Karnak, Monarch of Death

The interior of the grand cathedral was a hellish sight, covered in countless tendrils and dark red lumps of flesh.

A black-haired youth flew swiftly through the grotesque corridor. "Let's see. Is it this way?"

From every corner of the corridor, poisoned arrows, spears of darkness, and cursed bullets shot toward him. Yet they bounced off or deflected, veering off harmlessly in other directions. "Well, this is nothing..."

There was no need to even focus to counter them. Simply letting his dark energy flow around him as he passed was enough. If he had to compare it, it felt no different than brushing aside a dense thicket of reeds by the riverside.

The defensive domains set up here were by no means weak. But to Karnak, they were less impressive than the interior decorations of the old house he used to live in.

The cult had truly sent out all its forces. Aside from the defensive domains, there was nothing inside the temple. He advanced without meeting any resistance.

At last, he stood before the massive underground gate. Even through the several-meter-thick steel door, the oppressive darkness leaking out was so intense that even a layman could feel it.

"Open." He flicked a finger, and the dark energy opened the door on its own. The darkness that should have guarded the temple now obeyed his command like a loyal servant.

As if it was the most natural thing, Karnak stepped inside. An endless darkness spread before him. Here and there within the gloom, faint lights twinkled, as if the night sky itself had been trapped underground.

He immediately grasped the nature of what lay before him. If the compressed darkness was the blackened night sky, then those twinkling lights were the divine seals.

Once I get close enough, it won't be difficult to break it...

Clicking his tongue as he looked around, Karnak muttered, "As expected, it won't be easy now that I've come this far."

A powerful necromantic domain was blocking his path, surrounding the seal. It was on a completely different level from the domains he had encountered thus far.

"The Repetition of Abyssal Depths, is it?"

It was one of the highest-tier necromantic domain that Karnak himself had frequently used during his time as the Monarch of Death. It was not something that even he could easily break through. There was another problem with this domain as well.

"It seems even this has been tampered with by Tesranach."

There was something subtly different about it compared to the necromancy Karnak knew. Some other force had been mixed in, twisting it into a new form. It was just like the other necromantic domains the Cult of the Black God had recently begun to employ.

"So, I can't break through this with Redeemer of Necromancy." And using necromancy alone would not be any easier. "Well, I expected as much."

Karnak let out a quiet chuckle. He had faced this type of necromantic domain often enough to have prepared countermeasures for it. If he could not break it with Redeemer of Necromancy, and could not break it with necromancy alone, then it left him with another option.

Karnak raised his hands. "Then I'll just use both."

Gray chaos mana gathered in his right hand, while necromantic energy coiled around his left.

"Chaos in my right hand, Judgment in my left." The two forces intertwined, generating turbulent currents that surged around him. "Now mingle and flow according to my will."

The entwined energies burrowed into the surrounding darkness, sparking violently. Karnak narrowed his eyes as he grasped the structure of the ward. "This... is really tangled up."

Still, it was not a serious problem. It would simply take more time. Though, right now, that's the biggest problem of all.

Steeling his mind, Karnak began the dismantling process of the domain. A low voice flowed from his lips. "Shatter, break, scatter and howl..."

***

Dawnshroud Staff struck the ground. "Flowing thunder, melt the earth."

Diogres's mana split into nine streams and glowed red. Rivers of roiling lava infused with lightning surged forward, targeting Serati's group.

Leven couldn't withstand the attack. He could do nothing but run desperately for his life.

Lapicel, however, was different.

—Tascal Swordsmanship: Ninefold Strike!

Brilliant silver aura layered upon itself, forming a massive curtain. The aura curtain plunged forward like blades, cleaving the rivers of lava apart down the middle.

Serati could not hide her disbelief as she herself deflected the lava with a large burst of aura. Lapicel kept arbitrarily increasing the number of strikes, and now it seemed she had finally reached a nine-hit combo.

At this point, there's not even a trace of the original technique left.

Lapicel herself hadn't realized it, but in truth, this was pure Croterian Swordsmanship. By now, her body wasn't just instinctively modifying the technique. Her old techniques were surfacing unconsciously.

Lapicel continued her assault. She struck and withdrew with precise timing against the archmages's fearsome magic to continue the fight.

Diogres clicked his tongue at the sudden spike in her skill. What is this...?

It was not unheard of for someone to break through a barrier mid-battle after some moment of realization, though breaking through such a wall was rare in itself. For a warrior, surpassing such a barrier required a fitting moment of enlightenment.

Would that moment come more easily while swinging a sword alone in a safe training hall, or in the midst of a deadly battle where life hung by a thread? So, seeing someone suddenly become a silver knight mid-battle was something one could accept.

It was still astonishing that a child like Lapicel had reached this level, but then again, geniuses were not so rare in this world.

What Diogres could not understand was this. A girl who had just become a silver knight was now wielding silver aura as if she had spent decades mastering it. It was as if the purple aura she had used before had been ill-fitting clothing all along.

Then, a realization belatedly flashed through Diogres's mind. Of course. She is the Lapicel from the future.

He recalled that the first one sent back to this era had been the broken Lapicel. He had subconsciously grouped her situation with Leven's, but the truth was different. She acted like a child, so he hadn't considered it, but the soul within that body was that of the Martial King Lapicel.

In that case. Diogres changed the way he cast his spells.

His attacks became more precise, not relying on raw force, but gradually increasing in power, with each spell layering onto the next to form the foundation of the following one. It was magic befitting an archmage facing a martial king.

As a result, Lapicel began to falter. Seeing this, Serati licked her lips. Perhaps from the tension, her mouth had been dry for some time.

It's still not working?

Even with the lucky break of Lapicel becoming a silver knight, there was still no sign of victory. Facing an archmage was simply an impossible task. The fact they had survived under that crushing weight was already a miracle.

A sudden thought flashed through her mind. Maybe the adult Lapicel will awaken?

If the Martial King Lapicel emerged, she would surely be able to take on the Archmage Diogres. Of course, this was something that should never happen. Even Karnak, reckless as he was, did not dare awaken the future Lapicel for fear it would utterly destroy her mind. Expecting what even that madman had not done was absurd.

But then what are we supposed to do now?

As Serati fell into a moment of despair, Leven, who had been watching Lapicel's fight, suddenly muttered something strange. "I see."

His eyes tracked Diogres's incoming magic and Lapicel's counters closely. "So that's it."

He felt the surge of overwhelming mana and the silver waves of aura that pierced through it. "That's what it was!"

Leven's eyes suddenly shone. At the same time, the aura around his sword flared violently. With a roar that split the air, a torrent of aura surged up his blade and engulfed his entire body. It was a brilliantly shining silver aura.

"Thank you, Lapicel!" Expressing his gratitude, Leven stepped forward.

Lapicel gave a faint smile and nodded, as if she had expected this. Diogres did not look particularly surprised. "So, you managed it after all."

Only Serati was left completely bewildered. What? What is he thanking her for? And why is she nodding like it's the most obvious thing in the world?

They exchanged a few glances, and now they were wearing those faces that said this had been inevitable all along.

I'll never understand geniuses.

Still, it was something to celebrate. Now there were two silver knights. Their chances of survival had doubled.

Clearing her mind, Serati threw herself at Diogres once more. Right, let's focus on staying alive first!

***

Giyen Ren, like Diogres, found himself pinned down. Drel ranked among the strongest of the silver knights. He might not have reached the level of a martial king, but he was not someone who would be easily pushed back.

And then there was Dios. Unlike Drel, whose extracted soul from a decade ago had never reached the martial king's realm, Dios was an archmage in every sense, save for having lost his original body. Though his current vessel prevented him from displaying his full might, he still far surpassed most ninth-circle mages. Dios also provided another advantage.

—Fall back!

—Push forward!

—It's a trap, don't retreat, advance instead!

Whenever they exchanged blows, Dios would send precise instructions at critical moments. Thanks to this, there were more than a few times when they narrowly avoided getting caught in Giyen Ren's magic.

As a fellow archmage, Dios knew Giyen Ren's methods well. One might think it balanced out since Giyen Ren could also predict his opponent's moves, but with Drel in the mix as an unpredictable factor, Dios's side inevitably held the upper hand.

Of course, Drel and Dios faced a serious problem. Their bodies could not endure for long. Without Milia casting timely healing spells, neither of them could fight for extended periods. Giyen Ren was no fool, and he targeted her first.

But that proved troublesome. An angel with resplendent golden wings was flying about, singing as she soared through the air. Simultaneously, she launched consecutive spears of destruction.

These were not to be underestimated, as their power was formidable. Giyen Ren lightly flicked his staff, conjuring a shield that clashed against the spears and shattered them.

In that brief opening, Milia once again offered a prayer of healing. "Latiel, bestow your power upon them!"

Even in her Angel of Radiant Wings form, she wielded divine magic without hindrance. The power of Tesranach, the Shadow of Doom, and the goddess's holy strength intertwined with seamless harmony.

Giyen Ren's expression darkened. Truly annoying.

Wielding two energies simultaneously was nothing particularly impressive. Within the Black God's cult, it was not uncommon for corrupted priests to employ both necromantic and divine powers. The Angel of Radiant Wings was clearly a creation born of Tesranach's power.

What remained puzzling was the girl herself. Who exactly was she to be using Tesranach's power so freely? Having finished her healing, Milia let out another song as she soared skyward.

Once more, aura, magic, and divine energy intertwined, shaking the grand cathedral. As the battle continued, Giyen Ren briefly pondered. This is becoming dangerous.

There was Drel, a solid silver knight, Dios with archmage-level skill despite his weakened state, and Milia, whose Angel of Radiant Wings form surpassed even many purple-tier fighters while casting healing arts.

Their synergy was formidable, making them difficult to deal with. Even as an archmage, Giyen Ren needed to methodically build up his spells and corner them carefully if he wanted to defeat them.

The problem was that Karnak might destroy the seal before he could do that. Retracting his Golden Branch, Giyen Ren sent a message across the hall.

—It is time to change tactics, Sir Emil!

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