Lorne Guerrero shouted to Locke, “Behind you!”

“Watch out!”

The zombie horde had scattered the wizard prospects on the ship. Most prospects spent their time studying, lacking combat experience.

Only black wizards trained prospects in practical combat from the start, rather than ancient languages.

As Locke turned, a zombie with cyan skin and hollow white eyes lunged, slamming into his chest. The force sent him sliding across the deck, nearly into the sea.

“Kras~” At the critical moment, Locke chanted, activating Vine Hand. Five branches of Mandrake Vine, like pythons, slithered from his coat sleeve.

Two branches pierced the deck, anchoring him.

Three branches wrapped around the zombie, pulling it slightly away, then coiling around its head. With a crack, the head was severed.

Locke barely relaxed when the headless zombie kept moving, its hand reaching for his throat like iron pincers.

‘I’m an idiot,’ Locke realized. ‘It’s a corpse controlled by necromancy. Removing its head does nothing.’

Glancing at the three Indigo Jade gold rings on his thumb, index, and middle fingers, Locke noted his 30 extra mana points compared to other third-class wizard apprentices.

In this danger, he couldn’t afford to conserve mana.

Locke chanted twice in quick succession, casting Vine Hand twice rapidly. The Mandrake Vine, as the spell’s medium, gained the mana of two Vine Hands in moments.

This temporarily boosted the vine’s capabilities.

The five branches formed a giant hand, seizing the zombie’s body, pulling it away, and creating distance.

With a crack, the zombie’s body was crushed by the Mandrake Vine, its limbs and spine twisting and fracturing, rendering it immobile.

Locke exhaled slightly, but the deck was swarming with zombies attacking prospects.

They weren’t killing, but many prospects were pushed into the sea, abducted by black wizards in the sky’s black mist.

More cyan-skinned zombies lunged at Locke, at least five in sight.

Sweat beaded on Locke’s forehead. ‘These zombies were sent by black wizards, maybe even formal wizards.’

‘There are so many, their bodies are tough, impervious to blades, and each is incredibly strong. Even one takes effort to handle.’

A zombie attacking Locke was struck in the back by Lorne’s silver cross sword, letting out a wail as its back melted rapidly.

Lorne swung his two-handed cross sword like a whirlwind, striking the zombie’s back a dozen times. It collapsed, its surface runes fading.

Lorne reached Locke’s side. “In this situation, it’s hard to survive alone. Let’s team up.”

Locke stood back-to-back with him, facing the remaining four zombies. “Good point.”

“Thanks, Lorne.”

Locke glanced at Lorne’s glowing silver cross sword, likely a magical item as described in books.

A masterpiece of alchemy, these items were the best way for wizard apprentices to boost combat power before becoming formal wizards.

Each magical item was a product of alchemical craftsmanship.

Corfu Island had none.

Locke first saw one with Lorne, a prince from Schleswig Island.

Even among mortal worlds, Corfu and Schleswig were vastly different.

With his magical item and grand knight physique, Lorne fought two zombies evenly. Locke, with his superior mana pool, used Vine Hand to turn the Mandrake Vine into a giant hand, hammering two zombies to keep them at bay.

Locke eyed Lorne’s glowing sword. “Lorne, your sword does serious damage to zombies.”

Lorne slashed a zombie’s chest, the wound rotting under the sword’s silver light, disintegrating quickly.

Lorne quickly told Locke, “Yeah, my sword’s a magical item with a minor necromancy resistance enchantment from the enchantment school, perfect against undead and negative energy spells.”

“But there are too many, too strong, too fast. Even with this sword, it’s hard to clear them.”

Locke dropped to one knee, crouching on the deck, ignoring the two zombies rushing him and a third joining in. “Then let’s change our approach for the best solution.”

He chanted, punching the deck. The Mandrake Vine’s five branches burrowed into the wood, then erupted from the floor, binding the left legs of five nearby zombies.

The zombies were pinned in place by Vine Hand, unable to break free despite their struggles.

In combat, Locke’s mastery of Vine Hand grew more adept.

He called to Lorne, “Now, Lorne, finish them.”

Lorne paused, then laughed. “Great, this makes it easy. One swing each.”

He thrust his silver sword into the chest of a restrained zombie, which roared like a beast.

Its runes dimmed one by one, and it lost mobility.

After killing five zombies, Lorne grinned. “Locke, with us teaming up, we don’t need to fear these zombies.”

“The mentors will rescue us soon.”

Lorne turned, but Locke’s face was grim. Startled, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Locke pointed ahead. “Look around…”

At least thirty zombies surrounded them.

An overwhelming numerical disadvantage!

The sheer number could crush the will of most third-class wizard apprentices.

Lorne swallowed hard. “This…”

A black mist plummeted like a meteor, crashing onto the deck. From it emerged a witch in black high-heeled leather boots and a black robe adorned with a fox pelt at the shoulders.

On her chest hung a pentagram badge with a bone skull in the center, each of its eye sockets bearing another pentagram.

The badge was eerie.

Witch Barbara smiled. “You two, the Bone Cult has taken an interest in you. One has great combat experience, the other grows quickly and makes decisive judgments, exactly the talent our Bone Cult needs.”

“So, I, Witch Barbara Vayne, invite you to surrender and join the Bone Cult. Following those hypocrites will lead to nothing. The dark world is your true destiny.”