Alaster dove into the battle. Atop his black skeletal stallion, he swung his heavy poleaxe, cleaving through multiple foes with each swing. His Expert Level Strength made it easy.

His second mind rained down [Necrotic Bolt] after [Necrotic Bolt]. Each cast summoned thirteen of the sickly bolts, and each bolt could be passed onto others if the melting flesh splashed onto them. Faces were melted off, their screams turning wet and horrid.

Alaster’s third mind focused on rebuilding, resummoning, and buffing the Undead. It was struggling to keep up, but as Alaster fought, more of the Monsters converged on him, freeing up some of the Undead further away.

Nearly five hundred Undead clashed against a thousand Monsters. Goblins died in droves, but more filled the empty space, or if there was no space, they climbed over the corpses of their fallen.

The longer the battle went on, the more advantageous the situation would be for Alaster. The Hob King knew that. It also knew that the Undead would vanish or fall apart the moment Alaster died.

Raising its staff in the air, it conjured a fireball larger than a person. Alaster cut through four more Goblins and noticed the incoming attack. Too late.

It exploded into him, hurling him twenty feet into the air and crashing into a cliff face. But his Undead didn’t fall. They continued to fight. Even more, they seemed angry. Ignoring defense, they tore into the flesh of their enemy.

The Minotaurs used their shields as battering rams to knock down the Trolls and Ogres, allowing others to hack into their eyes and throats. The Blackguards marched forward as one, thrusting into their foes before moving onto the next, stepping on the fallen to end their miserable lives.

The [Horde Legion] fell in droves, only slightly more powerful than the Monsters that they rose from. Yet they replenished their own numbers. They took to throwing their spears into the enemy before charging in with bone claws. If they survived, they simply repeated it.

Four Minotaurs crowded around Alaster’s crumpled form, boxing him in with their shields. Monsters swarmed over the Undead in an attempt to reach the downed Mage, but the Minotaurs prioritized guarding their master, standing resolute and unwavering.

But Alaster did not notice this. All he felt was his skin melting. His armor glowed from the heat, continuing to burn his body. It was agonizing, yet as quickly as his flesh melted, it regenerated. [Last Stand] and [Regeneration] had activated, followed shortly by [Pain Tolerance], removing his sense of pain for a single minute.

Alaster stood up on weak legs, his chest popping into place with a disturbing crack. The Pact Armor cooled quickly, repairing the damage.

He had nearly died. A single blow had nearly killed him. He knew that. He had grown up thinking Experts were unkillable titans. That delusion was quickly shattered, and yet, he was smiling.

In just twenty seconds, his Mana was refilled completely. And for ten minutes, it would regenerate just as quickly.

A sickly feeling radiated out from Alaster, causing the Monsters attacking the protective Minotaurs to grow weaker and nauseous.

As one, the four Minotaurs crouched down, turning their shields sideways. Over three dozen fiery green bolts flew over them, carving into the flesh of the Monsters.

The Minotaurs surged forward, making room for their master.

Three [Dead Bombs] materialized over Alaster’s head, using [Mana Manipulation], he changed their shape, giving them a spiral pointed head. He hurled cast them into the sky.

The Hob King watched from its cliff, thinking its sworn enemy had received brain damage from its attack. Until the three bombs plummeted back to earth, creating explosions of corrosive Necrotic Mana that exceeded the range and radius of its own attack. An attack it had been cultivating for use against this particular foe.

Before it knew it, another six such attacks were unleashed upon its army, reducing his carefully collected soldiers into naught but bone, and leaving the Undead untouched.

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Alaster continued to summon [Dead Bomb] after [Dead Bomb]. With his temporally increased Mana Regeneration, the Mana used was returned before the first Bomb went off.

Even frenzied, the Monsters felt fear claw into their minds, crushing their hearts. Many fled, but even more froze, unable to make their bodies move.

Those in groups were wiped out by Bombs, but those by themselves were executed by [Mana Tendril] as he walked past. It was still weak, unusable in combat, but against fragile foes who had given up, it worked just as well. Each one was met with the sharp, jagged point of the Tendril being driven through their hearts.

Alaster’s Undead surrounded the cliff where the Hob King and his bodyguards watched the execution of their army, unable to escape.

His stallion had been destroyed by the attack, but Alaster simply raised it again using Blueprint. Fragments of bones flew from the countless corpses around, molding themselves into the proper shape, size, and position.

With the structure of the stallion created, Alaster lifted himself into the saddle and slowly rode towards the cliff, even as the Stallion’s bones were darkening, slowly becoming stronger and more durable.

Cresting the hill, and looking over the ranks of his Blackguards and Undead Soldiers, Alaster saw the Hobgoblin warriors in a tight circle their Lord in the middle. The warriors’ attention was on the Undead, but the Lord didn’t dare look away from Alaster’s eyes.

Several of the Hob warriors looked at Alaster, and backed up as much as they could.

Atop a large black Skeletal Stallion, an equally large man in cruel black armor with glowing red eyes, wielding a Halberd, and a tail of sharp Mana flicking around, as if begging to kill.

Atop the hill, they had seen exactly how this armored man had cut through swaths of their army. They had cheered when their Lord’s magic sent him flying, only to stare with wide eyes as the man stood back up, seemingly more annoyed than hurt, before he singlehandedly wiped out their army.

They had seen the deserters be chased and cut down by his Undead. They had seen him walk through the altered and bloody battlefield as if he was taking a casual stroll through a park, emotionlessly executing those too scared to flee.

And now, that same man stood before them. The helmet covered his face, but they could tell, he saw this entire battle as beneath him. He looked at them from atop his steed with contempt.

How shocked they would be to discover he was merely wondering what he would eat for lunch.

Alaster already considered the battle to be over. He had won. Now, he simply wished to sit down and look over his gains while eating a warm meal.

‘Perhaps a stew? I am getting tired of dried and roasted meat. Oooh, freshly baked bread, with melted butter and powdered garlic, paired with a hot beef and potatoes soup!’

While Alaster was daydreaming about lunch, Belgroth and Sedall could only roll their nonexistent eyes.

‘Oh, right. Azameer told me not to leave any loose ends. Time to end this feud.’

Alaster ordered his Undead forward with a mere wave of his hand. He watched with bored eyes as the Hobgoblin Warriors fought with everything they had, even pushing back the Minotaurs with pure strength. But they were simply too outnumbered.

Alaster watched the Hobgoblin King attempt one last spell, before an arrow, loosed from an Undead Longbowman, cut through its throat.

It fell to the ground with a wet gurgle. Its blood joining the pool already forming.

When the final Hobgoblin fell, Alaster ordered his stallion forward. Uncaring for the bodies beneath its hooves, it stomped its way forward, breaking bones and crushing ribcages.

Alaster stopped just before the Hob King. The scar over one of its eyes, melted from a previous encounter with a [Necrotic Bolt] confirmed it as the same Goblin Lord that had attacked him twice only a few years ago.

‘I really have grown.’

But the King was not dead quite yet, though it was only an inch away from it. It glared at Alaster with hatred burning in its dimming eye. Alaster only looked down at it before he put the point of his halberd through the heart of the pathetic creature, uncaring enough to dismount.

Azameer watched from his carriage high in the sky, hidden by the white clouds. He was impressed. The boy certainly had the might worthy of his teachings. He also had the mindset Azameer respected. A mindset of being thorough and merciless.

He had watched as even in the midst of the melee, Alaster was still capable of commanding his Undead to encircle the Monsters, preventing them from fleeing. He had been able to keep a clear view of the state of battle and commanded his ranged Undead to move to avoid being destroyed, or specific targets to loose their arrows into.

But he was also worried about the boy. The Mindset was commendable for war, which is what Azameer would teach. But the boy had embraced that mindset. He no longer saw Peace and War as two different things. Azameer doubted the boy even believed in Peace as a concept anymore.

The boy had casually slaughtered those unwilling or unable to fight. Which for Monsters, was desired, but when his enemies would be other Humans, it would be problematic.

When he had the enemy commander surrounded, he had not attempted to parley or end hostilities. He had simply butchered them, killing the commander personally.

There was one last test Azameer had planned for the boy, and the methods would mean more than the outcome. Even if Alaster managed to defeat the foe. If the methods the boy took to accomplish it were not passable. Azameer would leave the boy, unwilling to teach him.

And if needed, he would kill the boy to avoid a bigger danger in the future.