The Lich's Sacred Power
"Ho, Haellagos. You found me faster than I expected."
Alzahar didn't panic at all upon seeing Haellagos appear out of nowhere. Instead, he grinned chillingly, as if to say he'd been waiting.
"I've long thought we'd have to settle things someday. And that day is now. Consider yourself lucky, Alzahar. I'll send you straight to the side of the god."
"Your confidence is impressive. But impossible. Unfortunately, it's not my time to join the god just yet. Instead, I'll help you reach Kakali's side."
Yoahim sensed mana gathering around Alzahar's body. The condensed power warped the space around it, flaunting its might. Anyone could see this was dangerous, but Haellagos didn't budge an inch, just staring him down.
He was a great demon and a black mage. If the bastard came at him with black magic, he was confident he could smash it head-on.
Without chanting a spell, Haellagos summoned a massive blaze. It collided mid-air with the mana blade Alzahar had unleashed.
"Gah!"
The scream didn't come from Haellagos or Alzahar—it was Yoahim. Like a shrimp caught in a whale fight, he got blasted backward by the ferocious gust while just standing there watching.
"Haellagos!"
Thick black smoke billowed up, blocking vision in an instant. Yoahim whipped up a wind spell to clear it and quickly checked on Haellagos.
Given his power, it was hard to believe that attack had done any real damage. But when the smoke cleared and Yoahim saw him with his own eyes, he couldn't help freezing up.
He was wounded. The black magic had pierced through, shredding his sturdy armor. It wasn't huge, but it was unmistakably a gash.
"......Alzahar."
His voice came out like a groan, laced with fury. The mistake had been meeting attack with attack, no defense. Necromancer versus black mage—both wielded black magic, but who was the expert? Obviously the latter.
So Haellagos should've won their black magic clash. Or at least tied. It made no sense for Alzahar to be unscathed while Haellagos bled.
"What? Did you think I was the same as before? Foolish Haellagos. You got that half-baked apostle and thought the god's will was on your side."
His scythe whipped around, pointing at Yoahim. Yoahim swallowed hard, watching Alzahar rummage inside his robe.
"That's hubris. You think you need an apostle to revive Kakali? We're all just pieces on the board for the gods. In the game between Raelro and Kakali, apostles are powerful pieces—but not the only key to victory. Pawns have their roles, and if you play them right, even pawns can win."
Alzahar pulled his hand from the robe. He gripped something emitting blinding light, its identity obscured. But the pulsing, immense mana made it clear: this was no ordinary item.
Haellagos and Yoahim's eyes locked on it.
"Behold! The power I wield!"
Alzahar clenched his bony fist. With a crash, glittering shards scattered everywhere.
Only then did Yoahim realize it had been a black gem.
Whoosh!
Scorching heat enveloped Alzahar like roaring flames. The demonic energy pouring from him thickened, fouling the air. It grew so heavy it was hard to breathe, pressing down like a weight.
Yoahim coughed, glancing between Alzahar and Haellagos. The lich's presence was off the charts. What was Haellagos thinking?
"No way......"
Haellagos spoke slowly.
"Kakali's sacred relic...... You absorbed its power?"
Fuck, absorbed what? Yoahim's eyes widened.
Just moments ago, Alzahar held a black gem radiating ominous energy. He crushed it, and his demonic power surged.
No fucking way, for real?
Yoahim knew firsthand how potent that power was—he'd killed Delion and absorbed a relic himself. If Alzahar did the same? The already monstrous lich would become unstoppable. One wrong move, and they could lose the war.
'His level shot up too.'
Alzahar's level: 172. Up 22 from his original 150. Haellagos still at 150.
'I thought it was a sure win, but this bullshit reversal?'
It felt like a game he'd had in the bag flipped on its head. Absurd. Yoahim couldn't even laugh.
He'd figured Haellagos would dominate one-on-one, war or not. Sure, Alzahar could summon hordes as a lich, but his undead were tied up fighting Haellagos's troops. No reinforcements possible mid-battle.
Haellagos, meanwhile, was a black mage and great demon with a warrior's body—he even wielded spear and blade. One-on-one? No contest.
'But that flipped.'
The relic closed the level gap, nullifying the lich's weaknesses: no undead summons, weak in melee. All erased in one stroke.
"Haellagos! Today, I grant you the honor of joining the god!"
Alzahar charged with earth-shaking thuds. Empowered by the relic, his body rivaled any warrior's.
His sharp scythe sliced the air; Haellagos parried with his spear. Wind howled, embers flew. A single clash, yet it was explosive.
Fights between level 150+ monsters devastated everything around them with even minor impacts.
Clang! Clang-clang! Boom!
Spear met blade and scythe, sparks flying, dozens of fireballs erupting mid-air. The already crumbling ceiling rained debris. The floor shook like an earthquake.
Maybe even the inanimate world feared these monsters' clash.
'Insane......'
Boom! A rock pulverized in one strike.
Slash! A pillar severed clean.
Rumble! The ground tore under heavy steps.
Legends come to life. A brutal duel between the oversized. The battle deciding the war's fate.
And in it...
'Fuck, no room to jump in.'
No place for Kakali's apostle. These guys split boulders with sword swings, melted steel with black magic. No openings.
Yoahim had gained confidence from endless training in Haellagoria. He'd grown stronger, proven against death knights.
But that was his limit. To relic-boosted Alzahar, he was just an annoying bug. Squishable with a flick.
Sword aura? Might scratch a bone at best.
Black magic? Lucky to chip a toe bone.
Necromancy? Suicide. Might lose control of summons instead.
'Nothing I can do.'
A level 78 weakling couldn't sway this fight.
So what now? Hide behind Haellagos and cheer like a pussy?
Grind. Teeth clenched.
'That's too pathetic.'
He was Kakali's apostle, damn it. Running from responsibility? No. Tucking tail before a strong foe? Pride wouldn't allow it.
Logically, it was suicide. But sometimes, you had to play crazy.
Like now.
'Swordsmanship, black magic, necromancy—none of it works.'
Charging at Alzahar, Yoahim stowed his sword and staff in inventory. Not to lighten up for speed.
'Gotta use something else. The most effective way to screw with Alzahar right now.'
Empty-handed, he pulled out a book. Not just any book—the ancient grimoire of a black mage.
Ha Meks Han.
Gripping the skill-stealing tome, Yoahim blinked forward. Light flashed; distance closed fast.
Alzahar noticed the flicker at his feet but ignored it. Haellagos wasn't some pushover, even post-relic. Kill him first; the apostle could wait.
'Blink!'
Thanks to the lich's indifference, Yoahim closed in easy. Tome in one hand, he eyed Alzahar's shin and took a deep breath.
Not stealing skills—his level was too low anyway.
So what?
'Stuck!'
Slap!
Like a leech, Yoahim latched onto Alzahar's leg and crawled up slowly. He nearly slipped with every wild swing but gritted through, clinging tight.
To outsiders, pointless dogshit. Climbing him for what? Couldn't hurt him anyway.
Alzahar knew it too—ignored the bug crawling his body.
Big mistake.
"Drain!"
Mana surged into him like a flood. Head spinning like underwater, Yoahim fought dizziness to stay conscious. He converted excess to spells, throttling the inflow to avoid bursting.
"Drain! Drain! Drain!"
"You annoying pest!"
Alzahar wasn't stupid. He felt the mana theft. Reaching to peel Yoahim off his shoulder—
Bam!
"Eyes on me, Alzahar! I'm your opponent!"
Haellagos' strike staggered him. Alzahar roared in rage.
"Both of you, such pests!"
He refocused on Haellagos. Meanwhile, Yoahim kept draining.
"Drain!"
Blood trickled from his nose. Stolen mana overwhelmed his body. He converted to spells to ease the load, but Alzahar's reserves were endless—intake outpaced output.
"Fuck, Drain! Drain!"
Yoahim didn't stop. Knew he might die, but couldn't. Mana screamed through veins, body howling—but no pain. Over the limit, agony turned to ecstasy, pure high.
"You filthy worm! Fight fair like an apostle!"
Playing dirty = You're really good at games, lol. Yoahim giggled at Alzahar's lavish praise.