Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

The crisp sound of a blade piercing bone that he expected never came. Instead...

BANG!

A Spell Shield, black as ink and forged purely from Negative Energy, instantly sprang into existence, violently colliding with the Longsword wreathed in silver-white Fighting Spirit.

After the muffled impact, a bone-chilling SIZZLE of corrosion followed.

Seeing the tip of the sword so close, yet unable to advance another inch, Ellis silently curled his lips into a smile.

"Well now... Mr. Knight."

His voice no longer held its past bitterness and resentment, but instead carried a hint of amusement.

"Could it be you have some... special preferences? To be so insistent on tailing a man..."

Before he finished speaking, the once-stable Negative Energy Shield suddenly let out a low hum, then violently expanded outward.

A blast of pure Magic Power slammed into the body of the blade.

The spine of the sword groaned under the strain, instantly bending like a bow.

This irresistible Power surged down the length of the sword, forcing its wielder to stagger back several steps.

As the dust slowly settled, a burly figure was revealed in the center of the room.

It was none other than Graham, who had tracked him here.

"Hm?"

Seeing the completely unfamiliar face, Graham let out a confused grunt, his brow furrowing deeply.

The person before him looked nothing like the decaying Witch Demon he had been tracking, and yet...

...the faint, unique "mark" left by his Combat Skills on the man’s body was still clearly discernible.

Ellis’s tone was slightly teasing and gentle, but Graham, far from relaxing, tensed every muscle in his body. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

He took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the roiling blood within him. Just as he was about to speak, his gaze was captured by the Sheepskin Scroll floating in the air.

On that Scroll, amidst thousands of wailing, spectral souls, several faces he knew all too well had appeared.

They were the soldiers who had followed him deep into the Land of Mist, only to fall in battle.

"Th-This is..."

Graham’s voice hitched in shock, and the arm holding his sword couldn’t help but tremble slightly.

"Mr. Knight, why don’t we... make a deal?"

Perhaps retrieving his Life Box had put Ellis in a good mood; the gloom in his voice had faded, now replaced by a touch of mockery.

"My objective for this trip has already been achieved."

With a nimble flick of his wrist, Ellis made the Sheepskin Scroll vanish. In its place, the Eight-sided Dice fell into his palm.

"How about... we each take a step back? You let me leave, and I... will naturally overlook your previous rude intrusion. What do you say?"

"What is that thing?"

Graham completely ignored Ellis’s proposal. His eyes, like a hawk’s, were locked onto the hand that had just put away the Scroll, his body leaning forward like a tiger ready to pounce.

"This?"

Ellis casually tossed the Sheepskin Scroll in his hand, his tone flat and emotionless.

"Just some... ownerless souls."

Before the words had even faded, the Knight, cloaked in silver-white Fighting Spirit, had already transformed into a violent streak of light and charged forward.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

In a flash, the two had clashed several times.

But the Knight’s every ferocious Charge was effortlessly deflected by the black Shield that materialized instantly before Ellis.

The corrosive Negative Energy sizzled, greedily eating away at the silver glow of the Fighting Spirit, even searing blackened dents into the Knight’s heavy pauldrons.

And all the while, Ellis hadn’t moved a single inch.

He merely held up one pale hand, his fingertips wreathed in an ominous, dark purple light.

Whenever Graham tried to change his attack or launch a surprise assault, a precise spell would suddenly appear, forcing the Knight to block or dodge in a sorry state.

With his Life Box returned, the Witch Demon’s vast and long-dormant Magic Power had fully awakened.

His Casting was as swift as lightning, and the power of his Magic had multiplied.

Graham’s pride in his speed and Power now seemed clumsy and slow before the might of true High Tier Necromancy.

The Knight’s breathing grew heavy and ragged. Under the relentless consumption of Negative Energy, the silver-white glow of his Fighting Spirit visibly dimmed.

He was like a beast trapped in an invisible spiderweb; every struggle only caused the deadly threads of Magic Power to entangle him further.

"Damn it..."

Narrowly dodging another incoming Necromancy spell, Graham gritted his teeth so hard he could almost taste blood.

’How did this guy... get so strong?’

The curse exploded in his mind, but he had no time to dwell on it.

Staring at the Witch Demon, who was so close yet seemed separated by an Abyss, alarm bells screamed in Graham’s mind.

He knew better than anyone that if he let Ellis continue to lead him by the nose and wear him down, the only outcome waiting for him was defeat and death.

’Looks like... I’m going to have to break my promise, you old drunk!’

The last trace of hesitation in Graham’s eyes was replaced by grim resolve.

Facing this unfathomable Witch Demon, conventional methods offered no chance of victory.

He took a sharp, deep breath.

The inhalation was so long and violent it felt as if he were trying to suck all the air out of the room.

His chest heaved like a bellows, emitting a muffled, drum-like beat!

The next moment, some kind of invisible shackle within his body was forcibly shattered!

"Urgh!"

A roar, suppressed with extreme pain, burst from the depths of his throat.

The silver-white Fighting Spirit around him didn’t just intensify; it underwent a qualitative change.

It was no longer a pure silver-white, but a weave of molten gold and incandescent white flame, radiating a terrifying heat and an aura of Destruction.

But the price became immediately apparent.

On Graham’s exposed neck and arms, it was as if a searing hot brand were moving just beneath his skin.

Fine, dark-golden Scales with a metallic sheen were forcibly emerging from his flesh, spreading at a visible rate.

The emergence of each Scale was accompanied by the faint sound of skin tearing and then instantly cauterizing from the intense heat, leaving behind dark red lines.

The knuckles of his hands, clenched around the sword hilt, made a sickening cracking sound. His nails sharpened and hardened, faintly taking on the shape of bestial claws.

A primal, savage, and oppressive aura erupted from him, like an ancient beast awakening.

The aura was violent and chaotic, utterly incompatible with his previously pure Fighting Spirit, yet it contained a Power far greater than before.

The stone slabs beneath his feet silently melted into red-hot Magma. The blackened dents on his pauldrons, corroded by Negative Energy, were now being melted straight through by the molten-gold Fighting Spirit.

For the first time, Ellis’s cold pupils contracted slightly, and the flow of dark purple light at his fingertips faltered.

Graham raised his head. His eyes were shot with blood, and deep within his pupils, Magma seemed to churn as he locked his gaze onto Ellis.

A low growl, like rolling thunder, rumbled in his throat.

"You Undead who defile the living... today is the day you die!"