The Lich's End

Crack!

When it came to fighting the undead, the most effective tools were holy magic and fire. They were, quite literally, the undead's natural predators — which was why any seasoned adventurer knew the basic rule: never face them without at least one of the two.

But if circumstances left you unprepared, only one option remained.

Crunch! Crack! Rattle!

"Then you just smash them to pieces so thoroughly they never get back up."

Luden pulverized skeletons' bones and severed ghouls' legs, leaving them incapable of rising again. Having fought the undead before, he knew that anything less than a decisive kill only made them more of a nuisance.

So he cut down every undead that crossed his path. He walked the corridor, and when more of them blocked the way, he dispatched those too.

How much time had passed like that? After repeating the same pattern over and over, the seemingly endless corridor finally opened into a dead end.

"So this is the end of it?"

Luden stared at the massive door, sealed fast. A sinister aura seeped from beyond it. Surely something far from ordinary waited inside — and there was only one thing that could be.

He pulled vitality bread and an assortment of buff items from his inventory pocket and consumed them one after another.

"Whew."

Preparations complete. Luden let out a deep breath and laid his hand on the door — and the sealed gate swung open on its own, without a sound.

The interior was lit by a faint, eerie glow, not quite dark. It was a vast space like a great hall, and at its far end, the master of this dungeon sat upon a jet-black throne, gazing down at the intruder.

Luden named the creature in a low voice.

"A Lich."

―How curious.

"So the living dare set foot in this place. A first, truly."

Crimson flames blazed to life ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the skeleton's hollow eye sockets, and the sinister aura radiating from them was on an entirely different level from any undead Luden had faced so far.

And yet, Luden felt relief wash over him.

As I thought — it's not an Arch Lich yet.

In his previous life, the culprit who had turned Balzac Territory into a land of death was none other than an Arch Lich. A monster capable of freely wielding ultra-high-tier magic of 8-Star rank and beyond despite being a mere Lich — a calamity in every sense of the word. A terrifying creature that could stand against an entire nation single-handedly.

But what stood before him now was not an Arch Lich, just an ordinary one — and Luden had a good idea why.

Coming here before the Dungeon Break occurred was the right call.

Monsters released by a Dungeon Break rose a full tier in power compared to when they dwelled within their dungeon. Whether that was because they escaped the dungeon's rules, or because the Dungeon Break itself carried an amplifying effect, no one had ever determined — but the danger was undeniable.

If an Arch Lich had been waiting here, Luden would have fled without so much as a backward glance. No matter how much stronger the quests had made him, an Arch Lich was not an opponent the current Luden could beat even by the wildest stroke of luck.

But what he saw before him was a common Lich, one that had yet to achieve that evolution.

Which meant—

―I shall ask you. How do you intend to pay for the disturbance you have caused within my domain?

"What payment? If anything, shouldn't I be charging you for clearing out all these rotting corpses stinking the place up?"

Luden scoffed and provoked the creature in turn — though inside, he was anything but careless, his nerves drawn taut as bowstrings. His opponent was a mage. One wrong move, and he could die in a single instant.

―Fool! O living one, you have committed sacrilege against this body. Atone with your death.

A finger of bleached-white bone pointed at Luden, and black mana coalesced at its tip.

A black flash shot forth and pierced the spot where Luden had been standing — faster than any arrow.

So this is what a Lich truly is.

It might pale beside an Arch Lich, but even an ordinary Lich was a monster dangerous enough in its own right. Reminding himself of that fact once more, Luden closed the distance with Shadow Step.

―Cease your futile struggling! Blessing of the Black Waning Moon.

Black energy fanned out in a wide arc. It was a dreadful spell laced with a curse that rotted the flesh of anything it touched — and on top of it came mana-compressed bolts that tore through the very air.

BOOOOOOM!

―Nothing but a trembling little rat, scurrying and fleeing.

The Lich sneered at Luden, who did nothing but dodge and run from the black magic. Even in this very moment, the hall was filling with miasma — and that miasma became the fuel upon which the Lich's black magic fed.

―My servants. Slay him.

At the Lich's command, countless undead burst up through the floor.

He still had this many undead hidden away?

This was precisely why a Lich was so dangerous. A creature that commanded legions of undead while unleashing lethal black magic was far, far more troublesome to fight than any other monster.

Then I'll just have to punch through, one way or another.

Having made up his mind, Luden charged straight in. Undead reached for him from every direction —

FWAAAAAASH!

The shockwave of mana erupting from Luden's body blasted the swarming undead away.

The obstacles blocking his path were gone. Eyes blazing, Luden sprinted forward in a single burst.

CRACKLE-BOOOOM!!

Blue-white lightning lanced out. No matter that this was a Lich — as a mage, there was no way it could react in time.

And yet—

―Amusing.

BOOOOOOM—!

A mana barrier the Lich had prepared in advance sprang to life and turned aside Luden's blade. It failed to absorb the full impact — cracks spiderwebbed across its surface — but that was enough. Granted a precious heartbeat, the Lich completed a spell in its hand.

―Touch of Decay.

A black hand materialized and swung at Luden, the Lich's magic crackling close behind it. Black magic, each spell a virulent curse, stole life at the merest graze. No living creature could hope to emerge unscathed.

But the very next moment, the Lich could only recoil in shock.

"Ptui! Huh. Less to it than I expected."

―What—?!

Astonishment was written across the skeletal face. Uttering a flustered sound for the first time, the Lich stared at Luden in open disbelief — at a man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠standing perfectly fine after taking its black magic head-on.

Without this, things would've gotten ugly.

The Tears of the Sacred God. So long as he possessed an artifact powerful enough to nullify any curse or poison, black magic simply didn't have much bite against Luden.

That said, the Lich's spells were still a threat — the necklace only shielded him from their cursed nature, nothing more. But the Lich, knowing none of this, had no choice but to be thrown into confusion.

There's my opening.

Luden moved again, and the Lich, collecting itself, unleashed its magic in response. A spell even more powerful than before came screaming toward him. He avoided a direct clash, and the curses and poisons that bloomed in its wake were swallowed up by the Tears of the Sacred God.

By now the Lich, too, had realized that the curses of its black magic simply did not take hold on this man.

―You there! What manner of trickery is this?

In all its long centuries of existence, the Lich had never once shown such discomposure — not even within its own memories. That was how deeply shaken it was, facing a being its black magic could not touch.

For Luden, it was an opportunity beyond price. A foe that lost its composure on its own would inevitably leave openings. All the more reason to rattle it further.

Shall we try something?

Resolved, Luden twisted his body — straight into the path of the incoming black magic.

FWOOOOOOOM!

Gorgeous explosions detonated one after another. Searing heat and a storm of curses engulfed him. The translucent mana shield held for a moment — then tore apart like so much paper.

And yet, even amid that magical bombardment, Luden appeared once more without a scratch on him. The Lich's bewilderment spilled over into outright horror.

―Impossible. This cannot be!

It refused to believe it. How could a mere human cast off the power of the great black arts? By the Lich's every understanding, it was impossible — a reality it could not accept.

Ominous mana surged up from the Lich's body. All the mana it had hoarded across the ages gathered at once, seeking to give form to a single mighty spell — the most vicious, most devastating black magic in the Lich's entire arsenal.

In that instant, Luden's eyes gleamed.

Its judgment is slipping.

He broke into a dead run toward the Lich. Black magic flew at him from every side to hold him back — he ignored it all.

BOOOOOOM!

"Ghk!"

An impact that neither Mana Shield nor the Tears of the Sacred God could fully absorb rocked his body. His stomach churned; his skin burned with searing pain. But Luden did not stop. Gritting his teeth, he pushed on until he stood before the Lich itself.

―Too late! No living thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could ever endure it. Nightmare of Black—

"Gwanghwa."

A heartbeat before the Lich's black magic could complete — with the explosive surge of power, the entire world seemed to slow. And within that slowed world, Luden moved.

A fierce energy coiled around his blade. An ordinary sword could never have withstood it. But Luden wasn't satisfied with just that.

Storm Sword.

Second Form: Vortex.

GRUMMMMMBLE—!

―N-no—!!

The Lich's scream was swallowed whole by the storm. The lightning-wracked tempest did not stop there; it swept on to engulf the very throne upon which the Lich sat. The throne, made of some unidentifiable material, shattered to pieces — and the Life Vessel hidden within it was laid bare.

Crack!

―No! Not that—anything but—!!

The desperate cry was cut short as the Life Vessel was destroyed. In the same instant, the entire dungeon shuddered. The Life Vessel was both the Lich's life and the dungeon's core — with it gone, the dungeon could no longer sustain itself. The scenery around him began to warp and twist.

When the dungeon collapsed, the place that materialized in its stead was an ordinary cellar. Barrels were stacked against the walls, suggesting it had once served ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as a wine storage.

"Haah... haah. Somehow... I actually won."

Only after confirming he had made it out of the dungeon safely did Luden finally let his tension go. This was his first time fighting a Lich, previous life included, and it had been a frightening opponent — more so even than Hermos, whom he'd encountered at the Black Temple. Without the Tears of the Sacred God, he never would have endured that vicious black magic.

"Luden! Luden! How much longer do I have to wait out here, huh?"

Sarah's voice drifted down from above.

So not that much time has passed after all.

Time flowing differently inside a dungeon than outside was hardly unheard of. He'd assumed he'd been delayed quite a while, but apparently not.

"Better head out before Gwanghwa wears off."

But before that—

Luden looked down at the debris scattered across the floor. The throne, which had been the dungeon's core and the hiding place of the Lich's Life Vessel. Even with the dungeon gone, its remains remained behind — which meant the throne had never truly belonged to the dungeon in the first place.

"Might as well take it with me."

It certainly didn't look like ordinary stone, so Luden swept the wreckage into his inventory pocket. And just as he was finally about to head outside—

Gwanghwa's use had come to an end.

"Nghhhhhh—!"

An indescribable agony paralyzed his entire body. It had been agonizing enough before, but this time was far worse. He'd taken the backlash of Gwanghwa on top of weathering the Lich's black magic with his bare skin — of course it hurt. And the combination of his final skill with the Storm Sword still wasn't perfected, either.

"Khh...! S-Sarah..."

With that piteous call for Sarah, Luden lost consciousness.