Dracotitán

When the number of holy warriors in the central square reached three hundred, the signal for departure sounded. Accompanying the horn, the Cardinals from various temples silently appeared and jointly bestowed the final, highest-level divine magic upon them.

The holy warriors set out.

Muria observed a scene similar to the one he had witnessed before. Adventurers who had come for profit consciously cleared a wide path, watching the departing procession of holy warriors with a mix of admiration, worship, guilt, confusion, and sarcasm.

Lively and spirited music began to play as minstrels once again came together to see off the holy warriors. This time, however, there seemed to be a highly esteemed individual among the minstrels, organizing most of them in the fortress.

Therefore, this send-off was more coordinated and stirring than the last. It seemed that someone was trying their utmost to do what they could for the holy warriors.

Muria, following the holy warriors, observed the adventurers in the fortress city even more closely this time. Knights, druids, mages, archers, rogues, warriors... all sorts of professions were present, each showing different expressions and attitudes toward the holy warriors.

Humans are complex beings, and even these profit-driven adventurers could not be generalized.

As the holy warriors were about to pass through the fortress gate, the leader's gaze sharpened, looking towards the undead fog wall not a kilometer away.

Muria, following the group, sensed something too. Looking up and over the radiant warriors, he focused on the undead grey fog outside the city.

Originally, the undead in the fog aimlessly wandered until they sensed the breath of the living and reacted.

This meant that once the holy warriors entered the fog, they would face an almost endless onslaught of undead.

But now, the undead that were supposed to attack the holy warriors soon began to stir prematurely, collectively surging deeper into the fog, as if drawn to something.

"All holy warriors, charge and meet your comrades," commanded the lead holy warrior upon noticing the behavior of the low-level undead. Without hesitation, he drew his sword and issued the first command.

Only the living could attract the undead.

Without delay and following their commander's order, all holy warriors spurred their unicorn mounts into a charge, the kilometer distance allowing them to reach full speed.

While the kingdom's army on the fortress walls was still stunned, the holy warriors had already accelerated, charging directly into the undead fog.

It was like a piece of bloody meat dropping into the ocean. As the team of holy warriors entered the territory of the Kingdom of Bavaria, the robust life force of over three hundred people (even the elderly holy warriors had restored themselves to their prime) immediately attracted the undead, like sharks drawn to the scent of blood.

The holy warriors paid no heed to the approaching wraiths, specters, skeletons, and ghouls, letting them be drawn to the aura of life and fall upon them.

With a hissing sound, the undead that approached the holy warriors were instantly turned to ash under the thick layer of divine magic enveloping them.

The divine magic bestowed upon them by the Cardinals and high-ranking priests was not just for show. Ordinary low and mid-level undead stood no chance of even getting close.

However, these low-level undead were the most numerous in the Kingdom of Bavaria, virtually everywhere. Their continuous onslaught would eventually exhaust the divine magic surrounding the holy warriors.

"Don't stop, keep moving forward, and find the source that caused the disturbance in the undead," commanded the lead holy warrior, his order echoing through the ranks.

"Understood!"

In just a few minutes, this team of holy warriors saw what had caused the disturbance among the undead — a group of over ten injured holy warriors and three infants cradled in the arms of some of them.

Surrounding them were countless mid-to-high-level undead, and on the outermost layer, a seemingly endless sea of skeletons.

"Attack!" Without extra commands and seeing the remains of about twenty mutilated holy warriors within the encirclement of undead, the commander, a holy warrior at the peak of the Gold rank, led the charge into the sea of undead.

Soon, the three hundred vigorous, powerful, and divinely illuminated holy warriors broke through the undead encirclement, reaching the ten or so nearly exhausted holy warriors and protecting them. The divine magic on these few had been completely depleted.

"Get them out!" The commander turned to look at the more than ten companions, realizing their dire state upon closer inspection.

Missing arms and legs were considered minor injuries to them. More than half of them were emaciated, their flesh dried up, their faces withered, barely distinguishable from the skeletons surrounding them.

Their lives had been burnt out, and they were only sustained by willpower. When they saw the three hundred resplendent holy warriors, these few fell from their mounts, lifeless.

"Escape? Ha, such naive humans," a soulful voice filled with mockery sounded, reaching every holy warrior's ear. "Do you know where you are?"

"Liches!" The holy warrior commander looked up at the sky, spotting the large skeleton in a black robe wielding a bone scythe.

"This is the realm of the dead, where the living must perish." Before the holy warriors could respond, another lich revealed itself in midair.

"Kill them all. These holy warriors are the perfect material for making dark knights," declared a third lich.

The commander's face turned ashen as he stared at the three liches in the sky, knowing they were beyond their capability to confront. He realized what had befallen this team and why only a few holy warriors remained.

"The realm of the dead? Ha!" A scornful voice rang out, followed by a thunderous explosion. Three weapons, swirling with golden thunder and dragon flames, burst out from the fog, striking at the three soul-level liches. Crushing their feeble resistance, the weapons shattered both their lich bodies and soul fires.

"Forgetting to be gentle, I shouldn't have shattered their soul fires but sealed them instead," said a young man with black hair and golden eyes, appearing in midair. The three weapons that had just shattered the liches flew around him, as all the holy warriors below looked on in astonishment

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