Assassin's Chronicle

Chapter 270: The Wish for Revenge

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The battle began again. Bruzuryano could ignore the threat from the dark knight, but he could not ignore the giant skeleton. The speed of the skeleton’s movements was not much slower than Bruzuryano’s. There was possession magic on the skeleton’s scythe, which made the weapon give off a dark smoke. The smoke would turn Bruzuryano’s white coat dark, even if he was just standing too close to the weapon. Even then it took a long time for Bruzuryano to recover. It was hard to imagine what would happen if the scythe actually wounded him.

Anfey was not having an easy time, either. It seemed like Annunciata deemed him an opponent worthy of her men’s attention. Several necromancers were focusing on him, attacking him with bone spears. Even the dark knight joined the fight against Anfey. Anfey relied mostly on his speed during a fight, and was not like knights and swordsmen, who had combat power to protect themselves. He did not have the time and spare energy to notice what was happening to Suzanna.

Suzanna’s power suddenly grew and she was somehow almost as powerful as some of the best men in the world. She was able to deflect the attack of a phantom dragon, albeit barely. She was wounded during the process, but under normal circumstances she would already be dead. Since the dragon disliked light, it tried to stay away from her wings of light. It flew higher than Suzanna, and would only attack from an advantageous position.

Normally, when she was fighting alongside her friends, Suzanna would always check on them first before fully engaging her enemy, no matter how powerful her opponent was. Now, however, she did not look at any of her companions. Instead, her eyes did not even move away from the phantom dragon and were filled with hatred. It was as if nothing else mattered to her.

Slanbrea was perhaps the most relaxed. Even though he was wounded and he recognized it, he was already a cardinal of the Church of Light. For a creature of darkness, he was the worst enemy. None of the necromancers tried to attack him.

Black Eleven and Apa were observing the fight anxiously. They knew that it was not their place to help even if they wanted to. Joining the fight might go badly for them. The only person who noticed Suzanna’s strange behavior was Christian. He split his time thinking with his eyes closed and sneaking glances at Slanbrea’s scepter. When he first took the scepter out, Christian noticed, there was a figurine of an angel on it. Now, however, it was gone.

Christian frowned and tried to recall his readings, trying to see if he remembered anything related to the scepter. Light magic was very different from elemental magic, however, which meant Christian would not have had a lot of opportunity to read about it. He did not understand much about light magic, and could not recall any useful information.

No one noticed that the broken limbs and thick, dark blood on the battlefield were all shaking and moving slowly towards a certain point. A small mound of blood and rotting flesh began building.

Slanbrea was the first to notice the elemental surge. When he looked over, rows of zombies dashed out of the fog and towards the mound of flesh. The zombies disappeared into the mound, but more and more continued to jump onto it as if it had a strange magnetism.

When the mound swallowed the last zombie, a loud thud ripped through the air, and two arms sprouted out of the mound and slammed into the ground. It was made up of the bodies of several dozen zombies. Then the mound sprouted two legs and stood up.

The ground shook under the bloody giant’s steps; the smell of blood filled the air. The giant was too heavy, and since its body was made up of zombies, the zombies’ bodies could not take this kind of force. The giant only took one step, but the force was already too great for the zombies.

Slanbrea and Bruzuryano’s expression all changed from serious to grave. They both knew about one of the most vile Puppet spells the necromancers could use. Slanbrea swallowed and stared at the giant. Bruzuryano was distracted and was almost hit by the skeleton’s scythe.

The first step was just a test. Soon, the bloody giant began walking towards the fight, the ground rumbling under its feet and blood rained down from its body. If the path was too long, the giant could crumble under the pressure. Unfortunately, it was less than a hundred feet from the fight, and its body could endure that distance.

The fog that lingered there began moving as well. It expanded slowly, draining the earth of its life force. Necromancers’ skill of controlling their magic was as powerful as their skill of killing. If they were trapped by the fog, the fight would be over.

Slanbrea raised his arm, and bright light surrounded him. The scepter in his hand suddenly came to life and rose into the air. Light around the scepter grew stronger as Slanbrea began his incantation, and the scepter itself began spinning. It looked like a small sun hanging above the man.

When Slanbrea finished his incantation, his body suddenly shook, and he almost stumbled to the ground. Christian hurried over to help him up, but his hand froze midair and he let it fall back to his side without offering it to Slanbrea. "Are you alright, my lord?"

"Don’t worry," Slanbrea said with a smile. He looked up at his scepter, which was still spinning in midair.

Warm light radiated from the scepter and covered the ground around in a soft glow. The light cast light gold over everything it touched. The golden light blocked the advance of the dark fog, but the bloody giant did not appear to be affected. It kept moving forward, and its entire body was covered in dark smoke as if it was burning.

Slanbrea frowned. An evil puppet like this could not be killed by normal attacks. The only way to destroy it would be magic, since no swordsmen could harm it, not even a grandmaster swordsman. Even if the bloody giant was severed in two, its body could reknit itself and began its advance again. Only magic could destroy it and leave it with no possibility of regenerating. The only one present with the ability and knowledge to destroy puppets was Slanbrea, but even he was useless against it.

"Kill him," Annunciata bellowed as she watched the fight. "Kill him."

Her life had been torturous since the day she was branded by Slanbrea’s Mark of Holy Glory in Country of Mercenaries. Even though Mark of Holy Glory did not have great power, and its only effect was to protect an individual from the effect of death magic, it had caused severe damage to Annunciata. This was because everything she stood for was rejected by Mark of Holy Glory. It caused her great, continuous pain. Annunciata knew a lesser necromancer would have already gone mad.

If it had only caused her pain, Annunciata would not have taken such drastic steps. A necromancer with Mark of Holy Glory was laughable, and even her men, who were so loyal to her once, tried to avoid her as much as possible. Annunciata knew that the only way to restore her honor would be to kill Slanbrea.

According to the original plan, her mission was to capture Niya and Anfey and take them to their base. The others should be disposed of. Annunciata agreed to it, but she had a plan of her own as well. She wanted to wash away her shame and restore her fellow necromancer’s trust in her. She had to kill Slanbrea. Not only did she bring every artifact she had, she even stole the sacred artifact. Now, with victory in sight, she could not control her hatred for Slanbrea.

"Attack, you idiot," Annunciata snarled. She waved her staff, and the phantom dragon bellowed as it dove towards Suzanna. Annunciata was already using all of her power. She had to control both the phantom dragon and the giant puppet. She was doing something none of the other elders would ever even try. Death magic was even more terrifying when it turned against its user.

"Kill all of them," Annunciata ordered. Before the dragon could anything, however, she felt a sudden wave of magical surge. She turned around and saw a sprawling fire dragon flying towards her.

Annunciata did not move. Her plan had been flawless, and she had already set up a powerful protective magic array. Even though she was alone, the dragon could not harm her.

The fire dragon exploded about fifty feet away from Annunciata with a loud crack and turned into a cloud of fire.

"Show yourself," Annunciata commanded as she released a magic signal. She needed the other necromancers there as soon as possible. The fact that she was still controlling the puppet and the phantom dragon made her usage of the magic signal very impressive.

"Let me introduce myself," a man said as he stepped into the light. He was a normal looking, middle-aged man. He did not use spells, but he was floating. "My name is Entos."

"Entos?" Annunciata frowned. The name felt familiar, but she could not remember where she had heard it.

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