The Lich was the first to move. Its archers stepped forward and raised their bows. Alaster could have simply let them loose a volley. He could tell at a glance that the arrows were mundane and would not harm his Undead. But he didn’t.

With a thought, Alaster’s Death Mages stepped forward and raised their hands towards the enemy. As one, dozens of [Necrotic Bolts] were summoned, hovering next to their Mages.

‘Begin.’

The Bolts flashed past, elongating due to their velocity. They descended on the Undead. The Mages’ aim was not perfect, causing the Bolts to be spread out, but it did not matter.

Even as the Bolts flew, the Heavy Cavalry charged forward, barreling out of the dense forest, only gaining in speed as they galloped through the clearing. The Zombies in the front braced, planting their spears in the ground, pointed to the enemy with their shield in front.

It was impressive, and likely would have repelled the normal Cavalry charge, but Alaster’s Heavy Cavalry were massive. The Skeletal Horses themselves were over seven feet if measured to their backs. And without organs or blood, piercing weapons did not mean much to them anyway.

Alaster was not sure how much one of the Heavy Cavalry weighed, but from the sounds the roots made when they stepped on them and how much dirt they moved with each step, they earned their name.

The [Necrotic Bolts] helped to displace the archers, but the volley still came. Before the might of the Cavalry, it meant nothing, nor did the Zombie spear wall. They crashed through it like wet paper, sending many Zombies flying, their rotted bodies breaking apart. Like a wedge driven through sand, the Cavalry dove in.

But each impact inevitably slowed the Heavy Cavalry’s momentum, and Undead or not, momentum is a cavalryman’s greatest weapon. Without it, they are fragile. Alaster knew that. He remembered watching one of the Siphas’ Guards trainings while he lived there as a child.

He had prepared for it.

By the time the Heavy Cavalry was halted, the Horde Legion dove in, pushing further into the mob of Skeletons while also widening the gap. The Summoned Undead attacked from the right flank while the Woven Undead attacked on the left. Together, they shattered the Lich’s frontline, gradually meeting with the Horde Legion in the middle while the Heavy Cavalry pulled out.

Despite their power, even the Heavy Cavalry took losses while surrounded and ill-equipped. A sizeable amount returned to Alaster in the forest, but not nearly as many as had left. Their broken bones laying scattered among the many others on the battlefield. The remains of the Undead would remain for twenty-four hours after their destruction, after which the Lich’s Undead remains would vanish, leaving only Alaster’s custom Undead behind as the material they were made out of were already part of this world.

Alaster watched the battle from atop his own improved steed, watching his forces gradually carve their way forward. The Undead Knights remained hidden deeper in the forest behind the Lich, ready to prevent it from escape. The Undead Mages continued to launch volley after volley of [Necrotic Bolts] aiming for the areas his Undead had not reached.

“Master,” One of the Death Knights spoke. Turning, Alaster saw that it was Catherine, the one that had ultimately killed him, “This is too easy. Even a White Lich would not be this foolish.”

“Nonsense! This is a battle of pride between two men!” Shouted one of the other Knights, Alaster had not bothered to learn his name.

“Shut up John,”

‘So that’s his name.’

“This is a battle between two Summoners. That’s why Master has not yet acted himself.”

Alaster turned away and observed the battle, “That is correct.” He admitted, “But it is also why the Lich has not acted either. Either one of us could have done serious damage to the other’s army, but this isn’t a contest of personal might, but of the might of our armies.

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Only when one is defeated, will we fight ourselves.”

“But, sir, isn’t that all a lot of work begin destroyed out there?”

Alaster smirked. Part of him cringed, because his Death Knight was correct. Each of his Personal Guard was hand crafted. Each Woven required time. And the Summoned had cost massive amounts of Mana. He would have to rebuild his army, but it would be worth it to defeat a Lich, just for pride alone.

Alaster was not a prideful man, in fact, he saw pride as the downfall to many. But he was proud of his Undead Army. Proud of what he had accomplished, even if he was nowhere near the completion for its creation. Defeating the Lich, to him, would mean that his Undead were the best.

Alaster had already broken past most of the restraints of the System, allowing him to create more Undead than most of his Abilities supposedly allowed. And he had taken advantage of that, creating legions of the Dead to serve him.

By the current limits of the [Raise Undead] Spell, Alaster should have only been able to raise forty-five, doubled so for Skeletons. But currently, Alaster had three hundred under his Personal Guard. But by doing so, Alaster could feel the weight of all those Minion bearing down on his soul.

It was a minor weight, easily held up, but Alaster understood that as he created more Minions, that weight would increase. In doing so, putting more strain on his soul. He was not sure what that would do, if anything, but Alaster was ready to risk it if it accomplished his goal.

Alaster knew that he would not be able to create an endless number of Minions, especially stronger ones. The Lich could summon several thousands of Undead because individually, they were weak. But on an individual level, Alaster’s Undead were much stronger, and so, held more weight.

As Alaster sat atop his steed, watching the battle unfold and feeling the burden on his soul gradually decrease with each destruction, he realized that he would eventually have to organize his Undead. Currently, they were just made according to his thoughts and feelings at the time, making the numbers rough and seemingly random.

Which for a battle such as this, between two forces of unthinking and unfeeling Monsters, was fine. But against an organized force of Humans, an equally organized force would be more valuable.

Alaster’s sister was held by Humans. Humans that had access to armies, and if not, then they certainly had the funds to buy one. He knew that in the pursuit of his goal, he would eventually have to combat a Human Military. By himself as each of his potential Allies could not risk it. But he would do it without hesitation if it meant holding his sister again.

But first, he had to deal with the Lich. It threatened Galmore, which in turn threatened his education, which delayed the rescue of Evelyn. Alaster held no hate for the Lich, but that could not be tolerated.

As Catherine predicted, the Lich was not simply going to stand there and let his army be destroyed.

Without warning, the Liches eye’s flashed for a moment and the earth under the battlefield shifted. Thousands of skeletal hands shot up from the ground, clawing their way to the surface. The clittering clacking of bones intensified as another army of Skeletons freed themselves from the ground, surrounding Alaster’s Undead.

Faced with a threat from the rear, Alaster’s forces were divided, and their progress halted. They circled up in order to prevent being attacked in the back, but it also limited their ability to fight back. Unfortunately, the best tactic to use in such a situation was using long thrusting weapons behind a thick shield, which had little to no effect on the Dead.

“Catherine, remind me to use that sometime.”

“Yes sir.”

Had his forces been living men and women, Alaster’s army would have broken and ran at the sight of being immediately surrounded like that. But the dead did not think. Nor did they panic. They simply reacted.

While the Death Mages continued to pummel the Lich’s army, Alaster ordered the remains of his Heavy Cavalry forward once more. This time, their orders were to charge towards the encircled before breaking into two and angled out, hopefully reducing the time they were in combat and the number of losses they would take.

Each Heavy Cavalry Undead cost just over two thousand Mana after all.

Without hesitation, they charged out of the forest. But before they could engage, the earth churned once more. Two Zombie Hulks dug themselves out of the ground, leaving a crater where they had hidden themselves.

The Cavalry’s greatest weapon was turned against them as they found themselves unable to stop in time. With two great backhands, Alaster lost connection to little over two dozen of the remaining Heavy Cavalry.

The remaining forty were able to peel away, avoiding the Hulks before charging through the Lich’s Army from different angles, intent to complete their Master’s command.

The Hulks would have towered over any normal Forest, but here, their chests were only barely taller than the treetops. Their rotting flesh had many holes, and their intestines were spilling out of their bulbous stomachs. Their stench infected the forest for miles, making Alaster all the more grateful for [Death Embrace]’s aspect of muting his sense of smell.

Alaster emotionlessly stared at the Hulks.

“John. Take a few and get rid of those.”

John hefted his massive shield and spiked mace with a laugh, “Gladly!”