CHAPTER 21: PATHETIC

The Death Bats informed Dante about a nearby group of adventurers, and now was hiding behind a tree, watching four human adventurers creeping through a clearing. He knew many parties were spread out across the jungle just outside Thornebrooke. ’Trick or outright attack them?’ he mused, spinning his daggers, scanning them using Death Eyes.

[D Rank Human - Defender]

[C Rank Human - Knight]

[C Rank Human - Mage]

[D Rank Human - Healer]

Moments later, a volley of arrows streaked toward Dante, forcing him to dive to the side while unleashing a Death Blast at the group. The humans scattered, but he quickly summoned his Death Wolves and Sulla to fight back. When the Death Lich materialized, it clashed against the Rank C mage, their spells igniting explosions that rocked the earth.

Dante lunged toward the healer, only to be intercepted by the towering defender wielding a massive shield and was already attacking. His heart pounded like a drum as he narrowly evaded the arc of the greatsword. It sliced through the air, missing his face by mere inches. The rush of wind from the swing tousled his hair.

Instinct took over; he twisted his body to the side, skidding across the ground, fighting to keep his balance. Seizing the moment, he channeled his mana, his fingers twitched thanks to the dark power as arcs of necrotic energy sparked. The air around him grew oppressive, thick with the stench of decay and the electric tang of unleashed magic.

Shadows seemed to squirm at his feet, drawn to the force coalescing inside him. Dante didn’t wait and quickly cast Death Bolt at the defender. He watched as the projectile tore through the air. The sheer power of the spell warped the air, a harbinger of death hurtling toward its target.

Seconds later, the spell struck the defender square in the chest, letting out a thunderous crack that reverberated through the battlefield. The human was hurled backward as if struck by a battering ram. He crashed into the ground, skidding across the dirt in a cloud of dust and debris, his weapon clattering uselessly beside him.

The other humans rushed to his side, making Dante smile. Following this, the three froze, their eyes wide at the unfolding scene. The towering defender clad in rare plate armor clambered to his feet, his face twisted in a snarl of fury. Dust and grit clung to his battered form, his greatsword lying abandoned in the dirt, yet his presence radiated defiance.

His gaze locked onto Dante, who stood a short distance away, his figure excitedly humming. The air crackled faintly, tendrils of death curling from his fingertips as he reveled in the chaos he’d caused. His lips curled into a wicked, shit-eating grin, his eyes gleaming manically.

He tilted his head, taunting the enraged warrior. ’’Oh, this is gonna be good,’’ he said. ’’I can’t wait to twist you four into my loyal soldiers. High-ranking humans like you? Hah! You’ll make such powerful undead!’’

Dante’s laughter rang out, sharp and unhinged, echoing across the battlefield like a predator’s call. He spread his arms wide, as if already picturing the puppets he’d craft from their corpses, his grin widening to reveal a flash of teeth that promised nothing but torment. The defender’s fists clenched, his knuckles whitening as he took a menacing step forward, rage boiling over.

The enemies exchanged wary glances, their hands tightening on their weapons. Torn between fear of the unknown and the burning urge to strike Dante down before his twisted ambitions could come to fruition. Moments later, the three humans, their faces pale but determined, rallied behind the defender.

He watched as the injured man lifted his greatsword in a show of defiance. They charged as one, blades flashing, their war cries a desperate bid to drown out the fear clawing at their hearts. Dante stood his ground thanks to the thrill of impending slaughter. Just as the humans could close the distance, the ground shuddered, and a chilling wind swept across the field.

From the shadows, three figures emerged, their presence a harbinger of doom.

Raoul the Death Goblin Knight, clad in obsidian armor, rushed forward using unnatural speed. The creature’s crimson eyes glowed like embers, and his serrated blade was covered with poison that sizzled upon the earth. To his left loomed Sulla the Death Lich, who had already stopped fighting the mage.

He was draped in tattered robes that moved as if alive. The Death Knight’s hollow sockets burned thanks to a green necrotic fire, and his bony fingers clutched a staff that pulsed due to evil energy that washed over the clearing. Beside him stood the Black Knight encased in armor as dark as a moonless night, his greatsword radiating a sickly aura that warped the air around it.

His visor hid his face, but the low, guttural growl emanating promised nothing but death. The humans faltered, their charge stumbling, their worst nightmares given form. Dante’s laughter cut through the tension like a blade. ’’Now you might have guessed that I’m something of a Necromancer, but that’s where you’d be wrong, my friends.’’

Dante looked at each one, his face twisting into something evil. ’’Now, you three shall fight my Death Knights!’’ he crowed, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. ’’Let’s make this quick, shall we?’’

The fight erupted in a chaotic maelstrom. Raoul darted forward, his blade a blur as he slashed at the nearest human, a young swordsman whose reflexes were no match for the Goblin’s feral agility. Blood sprayed as the Goblin’s weapon carved through armor and flesh, the man collapsing while letting out a gurgled scream.

[C Rank Human - Knight - 400 Experience]

Sulla raised his staff, muttering an incantation that sent a wave of necrotic energy surging forward. The mage shrieked as the woman’s skin withered, her life force drained in an instant. She crumpled to the ground as an eerie chuckle echoed over the battlefield.

[C Rank Human - Mage- 400 Experience]

The defender, undeterred by the deaths of his companions, bellowed and swung his greatsword. The Black Knight met the blow, the clash ringing out like a death bell. Sparks flew as their weapons locked, but Henry’s strength overwhelmed his opponents. With a twist, he drove his sword through the defender’s chest.

Dante’s gaze locked onto the scene as the massive blade tore through armor and bone, the sickening crunch echoing across the battlefield. The man gasped, blood frothing at his lips, his body crumpling into a lifeless heap amid the dust and debris.

[D Rank Human - Defender - 200 Experience]

The final human, who was the healer, tried to run but was cornered by the Death Wolves and other Goblin Warriors.

’’Pathetic,’’ he sneered.

Just then, Dante approached the woman and crouched in front of her. ’’How many high-ranked adventurers are in Thornebrooke and Dreadport?’’

’’Not many,’’ the human quivered. ’’I don’t know, we only arrived a week ago.’’

The healer looked into his eyes and desperately asked. ’’You’re just like us! Why are you killing us? Do you not have any mercy?’’

As the woman’s trembling words echoed, Dante’s mind was flooded with memories: Ashley’s once beautiful smile, Ben’s laughter, and the fleeting warmth of their days on Earth, now centuries gone. His red eyes blazed with a fury that seemed to burn through the years, his voice a low, venomous growl.

’’Like you? Like you?! I was human once, loved, laughed, dreamed, until your kind tore it all away! Two hundred years ago, your kind burned me alive, shattered my heart, my entire world! You speak of compassion? You vile, wretched creatures know nothing of it, only betrayal and bloodshed!’’

When the woman heard this, she shook as the undead creatures growled, prompting her to question. ’’Who are you?’’

Without waiting, he grabbed her by the neck and lifted her into the air, answering before snapping her neck. ’’Your death.’’

[D Rank Human - Healer - 200 Experience]

The undead surrounding felt the chaos in his mind, prompting the Plague Maiden to appear. ’’My Lord,’’ she said. ’’If you ever need to talk, we’re all here.’’

Dante glanced at the undead and dismissed her with a wave. ’’I’m fine, Medea. The memories will fade eventually. It’s just... the past keeps resurfacing whenever I run into these creatures, and it stokes my anger.’’

A sudden rush of power surged through him as he leveled up, lifting his spirits. With a flick of will, he sent the undead back to the Domain, then resumed his journey toward Thornebrooke, eager to inspect his new upgrades.

[Level Up: 8182]

[Experience: 550/15,000]

[Experience Gained: 3400]

[MP: 270271]

[HP: 242243]

[STR: 290291]

[DEX: 315316]

[INT: 240241]

[CHA: 131132]