Invincible
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#113
🕑 Added 2024-09-26 02:41:27 +0000 UTCUndead (2)
The revival of the undead begins at the place where life ended.
That’s why the stronghold was nearly full of humanoid undead.
It was likely because the ones who died inside during the battle were mostly soldiers and knights.
On the other hand, the outer areas had a higher proportion of monster-type undead.
Their sheer size meant they couldn’t pass through the narrow entrance, and before the land was conquered, it was originally the habitat of monsters.
!!!
After piercing the forehead of an undead knight with an arrow, Limberton asked me,
"Will the Schlaphe guys be okay?"
"There’s nothing to worry about. You know it too. They’re humans who are well-versed in defending against monsters and are excellent at protecting their own lives."
Moreover, just as the stronghold could autonomously manipulate barriers, there were also similar mechanisms set up inside the dormitory.
By now, Athera must have deemed the situation an emergency and prepared accordingly.
For the moment, we had to focus on our own survival.
Silla and Leana took the lead.
Silla swung her sword, severing their necks, while Leana stabbed those aiming at Silla’s flanks with her sword.
Thunk!
Limberton aimed his bow from behind. Judging by how he only pulled the bowstring halfway, he seemed to be conserving his strength.
Swish!
Aslay grabbed the undead coming from the rear and slammed them into the ground, while Bellman intermittently turned the barrier magic on and off, providing them brief moments to catch their breath.
At the center of the group, without a doubt, was Ricks, fully concentrating on his shaping magic.
The remaining troops stood as human shields, ensuring Ricks wasn’t disturbed.
After clearing some of the corridor, Bellman spoke,
"Just in case you need to know, the armory is on the second floor."
Since Schlaphe guys weren’t familiar with the layout, it was a considerate warning.
It also served as a caution.
"Undead are still pouring in through the entrance, and there are likely revived monsters mixed in with them. It’ll drain your stamina more than now. Ricks, do you have enough magic left?"
Ricks forced a smile.
Judging by the sweat dripping from his forehead and his slightly slumped shoulders, he was clearly exhausted.
"I can maintain it for another 40 minutes or so."
Shaping magic demands a lot of mana. It mimics not just the form but even the weight, making the fake appear real, so it’s understandable.
The blessing that increased his mana capacity was attached for this very reason.
"Hersel, I’ll return your staff as soon as we reach the armory."
Thanks to the staff I lent him, he’d gained an additional 15 minutes of maintenance time.
A magic staff is a weapon that amplifies the power of spells and improves casting accuracy, reducing wasted mana.
I smiled lightly to ease his concern.
"At this pace, we should reach the second floor in under 30 minutes."
Starting with real weapons instead of fakes was almost like cheating.
Limberton’s bow and the magic sword in my hand were proof of that.
In the early part of the original scenario, the challenge was to make it through the gates without proper weapons.
"But I’m getting kind of tired."
Silla, who had practically swept the hallway, wiped the sweat from her forehead.
While Leana, who had been paired with her, still seemed full of energy, it felt wrong to keep relying on her.
As we reached the entrance to the descending staircase, Bellman pointed to Riamon and Erucel.
"It’s your turn to take the lead now."
When Leana and Silla handed over the shaping magic swords, Riamon made a reluctant face.
"I prefer a greatsword."
"Ahem, I also prefer a bigger sword than this."
Erucel glanced at Ricks’s tired face.
Sensing their desire for newly created weapons, Silla shouted in frustration,
"Ugh, I’m already on edge! Don’t be so picky!"
In the meantime, heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase below.
Aslay looked at me, waiting for my signal.
It seemed like he had a gut feeling that it was his turn to step up.
"Boss."
"You don’t need my approval. I won’t intervene, no matter what decisions you make. That goes for you too, Aslay."
Aslay nodded and approached Riamon and Erucel.
"I’ll handle this."
Aslay walked past Riamon and a dumbfounded Erucel, keeping his eyes on the bottom of the stairs.
"Wait, what nonsense are you spouting without a weapon? As expected, the intelligence of barbarians is on par with that of beasts, huh?"
Erucel babbled some nonsense, and I kicked his shin,
Wham!
"Ugh!"
"Shut up and leave it to Aslay."
When Erucel hastily averted his gaze, I smirked.
Would he really be at a disadvantage without a weapon?
Of course not. In a narrow passage, long swords and spears are restricted by the walls.
On the other hand, Aslay’s attack style involved close combat using his hands.
Among us, no one was better suited for fighting on the stairs than Aslay.
Krrrlrrrlrr
At the sound, a horde of undead rushed in like a pack of zombies.
Aslay’s large hand grabbed the nearest undead by the head.
Crack!
With a crushing force, the skull caved in.
Then a soldier undead thrust a spear diagonally at him.
Aslay twisted his body, dodging it effortlessly.
Snatch.
Then, with his left hand, he grabbed the spear and yanked the undead soldier toward him.
The undead’s feet lifted helplessly off the ground, as if uprooted.
Aslay grabbed its neck with his right hand and slammed it against the wall.
Bang!
The already fragile armor crumpled like aluminum foil.
He slammed it against the wall again, causing its contents to burst, and black blood splattered everywhere.
Splat!
With the space cleared, Aslay moved down the stairs, stepping steadily.
At a glance, it seemed like he might fall, but he didn’t.
For Aslay, who grew up in the wild, stairs were far smoother compared to steep slopes filled with sharp stones.
And what he had learned from his instructor wasn’t mere sparring, but real combat techniques that took terrain into account.
Tah!
Despite taking a large stride, Aslay quickly regained balance on one foot.
An enemy swung a sword to cut at his neck.
Whoosh—
Aslay ducked naturally, dodging as smoothly as water flowing.
His movement resembled that of an infighter boxer closing in on an opponent.
Although he hadn’t learned striking techniques from his instructor, he had been taught how to close the gap with footwork.
Clang.
Each time Aslay approached an undead, he would grab its armor, slam it to the ground, and break its arms when they attempted to strike him vertically with swords, throwing them aside.
Crack!
In the narrow space, his immense strength turned even the smallest movements into devastating blows, drenching the area in black blood.
After Aslay quickly cleaned up and stepped onto the landing, a massive undead knight appeared, perfectly matching Aslay’s enormous size.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The knight drew a mace that resembled an ogre’s club from its back and approached Aslay.
Whoosh!
It swung the mace down, aiming for Aslay’s head.
Aslay grabbed the mace with both hands.
Grab!
The knight tried to pull the mace back, but it didn’t budge an inch.
Aslay, having won the test of strength, released the mace and ducked past the knight's side.
In an instant, he was behind the undead knight, wrapping his arms around its waist.
Thud!
The massive body of the undead knight was lifted into the air.
What followed was a perfect suplex.
Boom!
The impact was so powerful that cracks appeared on the landing, and the undead’s head burst open.
As everyone watched in astonishment, Aslay stood up and said,
"I’ll handle the rest down below."
He turned and descended the adjacent staircase.
As the sounds of undead being crushed continued, Riamon asked me in a curious tone,
"That guy’s no ordinary fighter. If I were to fight him, who do you think would win?"
A faint smile tugged at my lips.
On the first day of school, Aslay couldn’t have even been compared to Riamon.
"You’d win."
But if I gave him just a little help, he might catch up.
If we could mutate his cursed trait, that is.
Of course, it wouldn't be easy, and it required fulfilling some rather tricky conditions, but that was a matter for a distant future.
"For now," I added.
Riamon smirked.
"Looks like I’ll need to put in some effort."
That was music to my ears.
If he grew stronger, it would benefit me as well.
Crunch!
***
The journey from the fifth floor to the second was quick.
At every new staircase, undead roaming the halls would rush at us, but Riamon and Erucel easily took care of them.
Even I, who had been watching leisurely, finally drew my sword.
Sring—
The corridor of the second floor, where the armory was located, teemed with more undead than before.
No matter how many we defeated, undead from within the stronghold continued to fill the vacant spots via three staircases—right, center, and left.
Krrrlrrrl!
As expected, the corridor was packed with undead, like a highway during a holiday rush.
Riamon and Erucel, swords in hand, stepped forward and swung their blades wide.
I, too, ignited my mana blade, entrusting my body to Donatan as I slashed through them.
Slice!
It was as though I was cutting through air, the cutting power was that sharp.
I had to check visually to confirm that I had indeed cut down an undead.
After decapitating and slicing through their shoulders dozens of times, the floor was soon sloshing with black blood.
Slice!
With every undead that fell, we gained more space.
Now, it was time for Bellman to shine.
And as expected, he lived up to my expectations.
"We’ll need some time to come up with a strategy."
Bellman blocked the central staircase leading down with barrier magic, preventing any more undead from coming up.
He did the same with the left and right corridors, sealing them off as if with metal fire shutters.
The undead, trapped on all three sides, pounded furiously on the barriers.
"Whew... Without that barrier, we’d all be dead by now," Limberton commented.
He was right.
Even though we had all gathered together, we still lacked proper weapons.
If we were surrounded here, it would only be a matter of time before we were killed.
An overwhelming force of undead was truly terrifying.
"But why aren’t there any people around? It’s still before dorm curfew, so we should’ve seen a few students by now..." Ricks voiced his concern, and Erucel nodded in agreement.
"Indeed. Although most professors would be in the faculty building at this hour, there are usually some wandering about."
Now wasn’t the time to be worrying about others.
Bellman’s mana was depleting rapidly.
I couldn’t help but scold them.
"We don’t have time to be wasting."
The first objective was to reach the armory and gear up.
The second-floor corridor was where we needed to sprint with everything we had.
The moment Bellman created the barrier, a 15-minute time limit began ticking.
It was an extremely complex spell, and on top of that, he had cast it without a staff, making it enormous in size.
And with the undead constantly battering at it, it was only natural that the duration would be short.
Of course, I knew the fastest way to resolve this, but this was also an opportunity for them to grow.
It was worth watching a bit longer.
It was Silla who spoke first.
"Now that I think about it, this is strange. Why are students like us doing all this hard work? What are the professors doing right now?"
Everyone nodded at her statement, which hit the core of the issue.
Indeed, they were hardly earning their salaries.
***
Meanwhile, in the faculty building, the professors stared beyond the translucent blue barrier.
A mass of undead swarmed outside.
One of the professors gripped his sword and took a stance.
His target was the barrier blocking the exit.
He infused his sword with aura and slashed at full strength.
Clang!
The sword bounced off with a dull sound.
Rockfeller, holding his staff, shook his head as he looked at the knight instructor.
"Pointless."
In the past, there had been many formidable enemies.
This barrier was designed to withstand such attacks, and there was no way a single professor's strength could break it.
The core mana stone came from an archmage's staff, a top-tier relic—only someone on the level of Arkandric could stand a chance.
"This barrier has protected the stronghold since it was built. It wasn’t created by ordinary means."
With his eyes closed, Rockfeller traced magical runes and infused his staff with a large amount of mana.
The wind stirred, strong enough to scatter the documents on the desk.
Whoooosh—
When he opened his eyes, the staff shot forward like an arrow, propelled by telekinesis.
Thud!
The staff pierced halfway into the barrier, and Rockfeller let out a sigh of relief.
Considering the strength of the barrier, even creating a small hole was something to be satisfied with.
Normally, within a barrier that blocks all mana, even telekinesis wouldn’t be able to move a pebble outside.
But now, with the tip of his staff reaching outside, he could release mana beyond the barrier.
"Hmm, with this, we can establish contact with the outside."
Rockfeller then drew a spell with his bare hand and grabbed the staff lodged in the barrier.
An undead from outside was forcibly pulled toward him by telekinesis.
It was the one in the best condition among the horde.
"Hamendal."
When Rockfeller called out, a professor named Hamendal hesitantly approached.
"Yes, Professor? You called for me."
"You specialize in curses, don’t you?"
"...Yes, that’s correct."
"Good."
Hamendal’s eyes trembled as he sensed something ominous.
Rockfeller, ignoring his reaction, pointed toward the staff.
