That night, after leaving the Dracnakrid’s estate, they met Leona at the designated spot.

Miralyn had brought her team of pseudo-Wood Elves along, and Hilda had Moira by her side, knowing that having a High Priestess with them would provide an extra layer of protection when confronting a Necromancer.

They pushed forward through the freezing night, their breath forming clouds in the frigid air.

The rhythmic crunch of snow beneath their boots was the only sound accompanying them on their relentless march.

By the time they reached the border ten hours later, the first light of dawn painted the horizon in muted blues and grays.

Thanks to Sokram’s extensive knowledge from his reading, they already knew which region housed the largest war graves, with three specific areas being the most significant.

He had also pointed out several smaller sites in the vicinity, and they planned to keep watch over those as well.

Miralyn sent three of her team members as scouts while the rest set up camp.

Hilda noticed Leona pacing back and forth, her anxiety palpable. She couldn’t help but wonder if Sokram’s insights would prove true.

Time dragged on in heavy silence until after dusk, broken only by the crackling of the campfire and the distant howling of the wind.

Leona paced near the edge of the camp, her gloved fingers drumming impatiently against her sword hilt.

Every so often, she cast Hilda a questioning look, her eyes dark with doubt.

Even Hilda started doubting, thinking to herself, ‘Did Sokram miscalculate?’

Miralyn’s communication crystal flared to life, its glow cutting through the snow-covered woods.

A tense silence followed as she spoke, her voice crisp with urgency. "We found the Necromancer."

"Gather up, guys," she started, taking out a map and setting it down as the team gathered around her.

"He’s west of here. One of my scouts reported that he’s starting to engrave an enormous array in the soil. But there’s bad news, he already controls five hundred skeletons."

Moira was the first to speak. "If you can create an opening, I can cast an area spell, Light of Redemption, but it won’t be as powerful since I’m back at Tier 2."

Hilda added, "I can help with the mana, but weaving the spell will take more time."

Miralyn raised an eyebrow. "How long?"

Moira thought for a moment before replying. "With Hilda's assistance, five minutes, if we’re not interrupted."

Miralyn nodded firmly. "That’s our backup plan then. Leona, my team, and I will focus on the skeletons and try to create an opening for your attack. If we can’t deal with him in five minutes, the spell will finish the job."

Leona, nodding grimly, added, "Got it," and flashed Hilda an apologetic look. "Thanks."

Hilda smiled and tapped her back. "What are best friends for? Just make sure you teach my son well."

Leona nodded silently, and they moved out swiftly to avoid wasting any more time.

Once they arrived at the scout’s position, the other two scouts were already there, waiting.

The members of Miralyn’s team were all elite imperial guards, each at the Flawless Level of Existence.

One of them alone would be enough to handle the Necromancer. Yet they were here to ensure all was done according to the Princess’s wishes.

Miralyn’s true intent was to form good relations with Hilda’s friends while also working to gain favor with the City Lord’s son.

Helping one of his wives take revenge would surely solidify her position.

What she didn’t know was that Lycius, the City Lord’s son, and his three wives were Hilda’s childhood friends.

Before she married Adulwulf, many had expected her to become one of his wives, but fate had chosen a different path.

Upon arrival, the first task was to assess the situation.

The scout who had located the Necromancer approached Miralyn and reported, “Boss, the Necromancer is still drawing his array. He’s only halfway done, but his undead are scattered in every direction, hidden under the snow and in the trees. Once we approach, he may try to flee.”

Miralyn’s mind worked fast. “Here’s the plan. Two will stay back to guard Hilda and Moira; they’ll be vulnerable while casting. If the Necromancer is sharp, he’ll sense the spell and try to disrupt it. The rest of us will split into six pairs, surrounding him from all angles. No escape routes. Once we move, we move fast. Leona, once we begin, you wait for the right moment to strike. We’ll try to create as much of a distraction as possible, but stay sharp, Necromancers always have a trick up their sleeve."

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Under Miralyn's command, the group moved with practiced precision. Three pairs for each side as they surrounded the giant array being carved onto the snowy expanse.

The atmosphere grew tense; the only sound heard was the cold northern wind and the occasional distant rustle of a skeleton walking. But the imperial guards' steps were expertly silent.

Each step brought them closer to the looming darkness of the Necromancer’s ritual.

Leona glanced at Hilda and grinned. "Where’d you find her? She looks very hot when she’s bossy like that."

Hilda shot her an embarrassed look. "It’s a long and complicated story."

Then, looking at the oblivious Necromancer, she deflected, "Focus now."

Leona nodded, slipping away into the shadows, waiting for her opportunity.

It didn’t take long before the battle began.

The elven imperial guards, clearly holding back, made quick work of the scattered undead, their strength far surpassing that of the weak skeletons that had only recently been raised.

Meanwhile, Hilda and Moira began chanting the sacred words of their spell. "Repeat after me and let your mana flow freely," Moira instructed. "May the light shine upon the dark road ahead of us..."

Hilda repeated each word, aligning herself with Moira’s rhythm, knowing that perfect synchronization was necessary for the spell to work.

The battle raged from all directions around the unfinished array.

Fireballs, Lightning Chains, Wind Blades, and Rock Bullets rained down on the undead that attempted to surround the Necromancer in a defensive maneuver as he seemed slow to react, too focused on his spell.

Yet, his minions provided nearly no defense, most of them weak skeletons and zombies hastily raised without any fortification or enhancement.

Amidst the chaos, Leona saw her chance.

She dashed toward the Necromancer, drawing her sword for a decisive strike.

But just as she was about to cut him down, a bone spear shot from the ground, blocking her blade. “Clang!”

The Necromancer sneered, meeting her gaze. "Ah, it’s you again. I thought you’d have learned your lesson after losing so many people."

Leona growled, her grip tightening on the hilt of her katana. "You stole them from me," she spat, her voice cracking with fury. "My team, my friends… I swore to their souls that you would pay for what you did. And today, you will!"

Leona, who just lost the element of surprise, clashed with the Necromancer under the looming threat of the undead.

While Hilda and Moira continued chanting, their voices harmonizing against the sound of battle.

Sweat beaded on Hilda’s forehead as she struggled to maintain her focus. Each word carried weight, their mana intertwining like a thread, but what they failed to realize was how chaotic the power that was forming was.

As the holy spell was weaved, Leona sidestepped another bone spear and slashed at him once more, only to be blocked again.

This time, a huge necrotic arm shot up from the ground, holding a massive tower shield.

The impact of Leona’s strike on the shield sent her stumbling back, but as she regained her footing, she found herself facing an enormous undead ogre.

Armed with a tower shield and a greatsword, it was a formidable opponent, though Leona had fought ogres before.

The Necromancer glanced around and found himself surrounded, his hastily raised army being overwhelmed by twelve elves, but instead of panicking, he laughed maniacally.

"Hahaha! I may die today, but I’ll take you with me! Kill that kitten!"

The ogre swung its sword with immense strength, but Leona’s footwork was sharp.

She spun neatly to her right, dodging the blow as the ogre’s strike created a cloud of dusted snow.

The Necromancer smirked confidently, thinking Leona had been thrown off balance. He hurled a crackling Necro Bolt at her last position, expecting her to struggle.

But Leona was already there.

A blur, swift and cold like the wind of the north.

"SHING!"

The wet, sickening sound of steel cleaving through flesh filled the air.

The Necromancer barely registered the pain before his severed arm was already spinning away, dark blood spraying across the snow.

His survival instincts kicked in... 'Blink!'

Leona’s blade flashed again, aimed at his torso.

He had vanished in a pulse of dark energy, reappearing three meters away.

She lunged forward to finish him, but an ogre’s massive blade came crashing down, forcing her into a sharp sidestep.

An instant. That was all it took.

By the time her feet touched solid ground again, two heavily armored, undead knights had materialized at the Necromancer’s side, their swords raised in eerie silence.

The Necromancer’s breath was ragged, but there was no time to dwell on pain. He burned the wound shut with necrotic fire even as his lips twisted into a sneer.

His eyes, filled with venomous hatred, locked onto Leona. "You should’ve gone for the head, you stupid whore!" he spat, his voice trembling between rage and exhilaration.

Then, madness overtook him.

His lips curled into a twisted grin. "Hahaha… Now you’re dead."

He thrust his remaining hand forward, and Leona’s senses flared.

The space around her seemed to darken, the surge of mana turning thick with the taint of death.

The undead knights stepped forward, their glowing eyes pulsing with sinister energy.

But before the knights could get close to her, a blinding light illuminated the battlefield.

The Necromancer recoiled in shock. "Holy Magic?! Where?!"

Hilda and Moira emerged from their hiding spot, hand-in-hand, their faces resolute.

With the other imperial guards flanking them, the two women raised their hands in unison, chanting:

"Light of Hope, Light of Fate, Light of Destruction, shine the brightest and wash away the darkness in our path!" The words rang like a decree, resonating through the battlefield.

A blinding pillar of light pierced the sky, cascading down like a holy judgment.

The Necromancer barely reacted. His instincts screamed, his body twisted to evade, but it was too late.

The edge of the blast caught him.

Half his body was consumed in an explosion of radiant fire, his flesh searing as raw, holy energy tore through him.

He screamed, a wretched, agonizing sound, as the spell’s shockwave expanded, swallowing the battlefield.

The imperial guards recoiled, their training meaningless against such overwhelming brilliance.

Some instinctively raised their arms, but the light was merciless. Even through closed eyes, the brightness burned into their vision.

The undead stood no chance.

Where the light touched, flesh and bone disintegrated.

Skeletal warriors crumbled into dust, zombies ignited like dry parchment, their shrieks cut short as they dissolved into nothingness.

Shadows recoiled, twisting violently before being erased.

The battlefield was no more, replaced by a stage for the chaotic holy light.

When the light faded, Leona rushed forward, her eyes scanning for any sign of the Necromancer.

She found him, barely alive, his body half-burned, and collapsed in a crater.

Leona approached cautiously, sword at the ready.

She would have finished him from a distance, but she wanted to meet his eyes as she ended his life.

But just before she struck, she heard the Necromancer’s voice. "You think this ends with me?" he rasped, his lips curling into a bloodied smirk. "You've merely scratched the surface of what's coming. Our pact with Frostaxe is sealed. The dead will rise, and your King will regret allying with the High Elves... Cough! Cough! Hahaha!"

His laughter, ragged and broken, echoed briefly before fading into a heavy silence.

His glazed eyes stared into nothingness as the last breath left his ruined body.