Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Festival of Receiving Flesh
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Like dry ice sprayed across a theater stage, evil qi settled onto the arena floor.
The evil qi drained the vitality from any living creature it touched, leaving them weakened and chilled to the bone.
And the source of that evil qi stood there arrogantly, gripping a War Scythe whose blade alone looked to be over three meters long, as it surveyed the spectators in the stands.
Lich.
An elite undead monster that could rarely be spotted anywhere from the lower floors onward, where the pressure of mana grew ever stronger—regardless of the specific layer.
Not that it made much sense to apply the classifications of living species to undead, but it was categorized as an advanced form of Skeleton Mage.
And from a crawler's perspective, it was the absolute worst monster you never wanted to run into inside a dungeon.
Which was exactly why...
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Clap!
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Thrill-Nemus Rooooaaarrr—!
When you couldn't get a read on the situation, you had to land the first blow.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ -To think a mere undead withstood the might of my exorcism authority.
The Goddess's voice carried a deep sense of wounded pride, and I responded with a wry smile.
Treating a lich like it was just any old undead...
But I could understand her feelings.
Typically, blessings were like special fusion spells infused with divine authority, unlike the incantations of mortal mages.
And the divine authority aligned with the natural order of this world was inherently the antithesis of undead, which defied that very order.
Yet even after landing an amplified exorcism blessing via an item, all that happened was a bit of crumbling at the extremities of its body, formed from evil qi. From the perspective of the god who invoked it, that was bound to sting.
-Use a stronger authority! Grind it to dust, not even leaving a speck behind!
It was clearly a remark aimed at the Goddess of War and Victory, who was spectating this fight.
Her coaching, before the real battle had even begun, was a fresh reminder that this wasn't inside a dungeon.
"Minimum 40th floor. Could even be from the deep layers, depending."
Instead of responding to the Goddess, I briefed Asad on what I'd gauged about the lich.
Asad caught on immediately, his already stoic face hardening further as he drew his signature Shamshir.
Liches could appear from the lower floors onward, though with low probability on any given layer.
Their strength scaled with the floor, so in a dungeon, you'd gauge it by where it spawned—but here, I had to rely purely on feel to judge its caliber.
An elite monster type from 40-plus floors: a nightmare to handle.
Just like a 20th-floor elite Mountain Troll rivaled the threat of early-30th-floor mobs, a 40th-floor elite—especially a lich—had to be rated at least mid-deep layers, even lowballing it.
My matchup against undead was favorable, but Asad's wasn't particularly.
And even with the exorcism blessing, pure class-wise, the enemy outclassed us.
Undead was good news, but a lich among undead? The worst.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Thrill-Cress Light burst from the Keseff Heyrel and seeped into me and Asad's bodies.
This was just over five seconds after feeding Thrill-Nemus to the lich.
Eerie blue flames ignited in the lich's hollow pupils.
At the same instant, its massive War Scythe scraped the ground—and we leaped straight up from our spots.
From the gap carved by the sweeping strike came rigid tentacles or spikes—we couldn't tell which—that speared right through the area where we'd stood moments before.
I wasn't sure, but it seemed like the Impale spells earth mages used.
'This is why liches are such a pain.'
Tough as nails, and each one wielded a unique arsenal of spells.
You knew nothing beyond "lich," their means were varied and lethal, making info warfare essential.
-What of the exorcism authority—?!
I ignored the Goddess, who'd turned into an exorcism cheerleader.
No way was I taking advice from a dungeon newbie who didn't know how crawlers fought.
'Can't force a short fight here—switching my blessing to damage would be a blunder.'
I was a supporter, through and through.
In this scenario, for a support like me to dip into dealing, it'd have to be a fight-ending attack or at least a secure kill catch. Otherwise, avoid it.
Besides, against a lich, high probability of...
『■■■■■■—』
Bang bang!
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Thrill-Purga As the lich chanted something incomprehensible, I twice stamped the ground with the tip of the Keseff Heyrel, deploying a vitality-boosting blessing across the area for allies.
From the lich spread a murky purple-black mist mingling with the evil qi, while from my side unfurled a pristine white mist brimming with clear, invigorating energy.
The clashing forces—one sapping life and inducing decay, the other spurring vitality—began canceling each other out.
Someone once said it:
The most effective counter to an enemy domain was deploying your own.
It might've been a meme at the time, but surprisingly spot-on.
In combat, establishing a domain favorable to yourself was just common sense.
'Looks like a Corruption-type aura. Brutal stuff.'
Cheap protective talismans like the ones in Kaiden's party would've crumbled in under ten seconds there.
Even high-tier crawlers with layer adaptation and magic resistance wouldn't last long barehanded.
'Even? No, we're slightly on the back foot.'
I judged as I observed the clashing energies neutralizing each other.
At minimum, we'd secured the sustainability for a proper fight.
A shame I couldn't overwhelm it with the debt-incurring Keseff Heyrel purchase, but considering a 42nd-floor crawler was matching output with a 40th-floor elite? The money was well spent.
That said...
'Obviously neither side's done here.'
As the lich's blue ghostly glare burned with its next move brewing, I gripped the Keseff Heyrel's handle tight and thought:
Time to get busy again.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Excellent. That little miss."
A woman draped in a robe of sky-blue as soft as the heavens watched the arena's center with keen interest.
"A master of resource battles. She's got a solid spellcaster foundation."
"Isn't Rusted Silver a priestess?"
"Foolish child. Don't pigeonhole spellcasters so narrowly."
Astrid, the brain emperor representing this generation's top crawlers alongside Heavenly Army Tigran, chided her disciple's folly.
Exceptional talent and the hot blood of youth could sometimes cloud wisdom.
Astrid clicked her tongue at her disciple, still mired in petty jealousy despite the rebuke.
But she quickly schooled her displeasure and turned her gaze back to the arena.
The moment Arjen confirmed her foe was undead, she'd swiftly landed a preemptive exorcism blessing.
Sudden strikes were always effective attacks, especially for casters.
Quick judgment: one point.
No panic despite underwhelming damage; she briefed her ally with intel from first contact and seamlessly moved to her next play: another point.
Had Arjen's domain come late, her action radius would've shrunk dramatically.
To Astrid's eye, that lich was a 45th-floor-plus specimen.
Among current human mages, few could surpass its raw output with theirs alone.
You could count them on one hand, with fingers to spare.
Amplifying her output with a fine tool to barely match it was good—but still lacking.
Once the lich's Corruption aura fully expanded, suppressing it properly would've been a struggle.
'But what truly impresses is what followed.'
The opening was strong.
But you couldn't judge everything from a brief clash.
History in Dungeon City overflowed with hyped prospects whose glimpses of brilliance proved fleeting.
'She knows exactly what her role is.'
The young swordsman, apparently of Jawhari blood, pressed the lich relentlessly.
Though offset by Arjen's Thrill-Purga, the Corruption aura near the lich remained potent and unneutralized.
Without a talisman, even a crawler adapted to the 40th floor couldn't endure prolonged exposure.
Thus, forgoing talismans, Arjen layered protective blessings on the swordsman.
When the first protection blessing shattered under the strain, she'd reverse-engineered its uptime and chained the next one seamlessly at the perfect moment.
No resource waste.
'Must be favored by her god.'
Stingy deities were miserly with their faithful, limiting means.
Yet in that short exchange, Arjen had unleashed nearly ten blessings by rough count.
A number even veteran high priests, decades in faithful service, might envy.
'Diligent, unlike today's slackers.'
And she mirrored the swordsman's movements in opposition nonstop.
Orbiting the lich from opposite sides in a circle, unobstructed paths while constantly slipping its line of sight, needling it without cease.
Beyond the initial Corruption aura, the only spell the lich had shown in the fight was Sting Finger.
Obviously not its limit—Arien was laser-focused on anti-magic countermeasures.
Maintaining distance to respond anytime it targeted her.
"Mayer, no wonder that frog's got his eye on her."
『■■—』
The lich was a monster, but a highly intelligent one.
It knew it was being steadily worn down.
Muttering inscrutably, it swung its War Scythe around itself like swatting a pesky fly.
The swordsman, his physical prowess amplified by blessings, dodged with ease.
But that wasn't the lich's aim.
The War Scythe traced a perfect circle around the lich.
Then, bug-like things began dripping from the scythe, wriggling to fill the ring.
"Hoo. Necromancy? So that's what the spell sequencer was prepping."
The black bugs morphed into runes of malevolent energy, transforming the mere ground circle into a magic circle.
One of the pre-prep Circle Magics.
The lich's Circle of Necromancy began glowing with an ominous light.
"But there are no corpses, right?"
Astrid sighed softly at her disciple's question.
Would a beast like that overlook corpses in a pinch?
Evil or not, a master mage wasted no actions.
Drip... drip...
And as Astrid predicted.
A few finger bones detached from the lich's left hand into the circle, swelling like well-fermented dough in an oven until they took skeletal form.
"Like dragon-tooth soldiers."
Blue ghostfire ignited in the skeletons' eyes, spawned from the lich's fingers.
Clack! Clack clack!
They whipped their heads toward Arjen and charged, jaws rattling.
Their mission was clear: exclude Arjen, or at least restrain her temporarily.
Without her support, the Jawhari swordsman wouldn't last long against the lich.
"Well now, what's your next move?"
Astrid felt her excitement rise with the battlefield's shifting dynamics.