Bang! Bang!
Two bursts of white light flared to life.
Twin Guardian Angels wielding long spears materialized at Lyle's sides, their forms glowing with divine radiance.
"Khajiit's abilities… I know a bit about them," Lyle murmured, eyes narrowing, "but what he's shown in public may not be all he's capable of. Someone with his record wouldn't reveal all his cards."
His voice was calm, but beneath that calm lay a glimmer of excitement and solemn anticipation.
After all, this was a man who had once gone head-to-head with the Maids of Nazarick. Granted, Narberal Gamma had treated it like a game at the time, but even so, she was level 63—while Khajiit had only been around level 21. The fact that he'd survived such an overwhelming difference in power, even momentarily, was impressive.
For someone like Zurrernorn to value him so highly, Khajiit had to be the real deal.
"Camouflage."
Lyle's gaze sharpened as he produced another magic scroll and flicked it toward the Guardian Angel on his left.
A flash of green magical light shimmered across the angel's form. The figure gradually blurred and then vanished into the night.
"Even without forest cover, the darkness here works just as well," Lyle nodded in satisfaction as he watched the angel disappear from sight.
Using a Tier-2 scroll to cast a Tier-1 spell might seem wasteful, but for someone like Lyle, who could craft his own magic scrolls, this minor extravagance wasn't worth a second thought.
Under Lyle's control, the camouflaged angel began to advance. Once it had moved roughly 50 meters forward, it shifted to the side, breaking line-of-sight with Lyle's position and forming a triangle formation.
From a bird's eye view, Lyle stood at the back, aligned in a straight line with the decrepit temple up ahead, while the hidden angel now flanked the formation's left edge.
Shff!
Lyle drew another Tier-2 summoning scroll and summoned a third Guardian Angel.
That made five out of the ten scrolls he had prepared—already expended in rapid succession.
"Go. Enter the temple."
He gave the command, and the newly summoned angel soared toward the derelict building. At the same time, Lyle moved to position himself behind the uncamouflaged angel and pressed a hand to its shadow.
"Stealth."
Lyle's form blurred, melding into the shadow cast by the Guardian Angel.
This was a skill he'd acquired after fighting the thief from the Eight Fingers—one that reduced his presence and allowed him to merge with surrounding shadows. It wasn't perfect invisibility, but it was more than enough to avoid detection under the cover of night.
The newly summoned angel flew swiftly into the ruined temple. Inside, the space was barren—wide open with nowhere to hide. Just one object stood out: a sarcophagus-like structure in the center.
In a place full of gravestones and tombs, it didn't look particularly out of place. If anything, it appeared to be a decorative piece meant to blend in with the cemetery aesthetic.
Whrr!
The Guardian Angel's wings flapped, launching it into the air. It hovered over the stone structure, then brought its glowing spear crashing down.
Boom!
The impact echoed violently in the stillness, the solid stone cracking under the blow.
The angel struck again.
Crash!
The sarcophagus shattered.
A dark, narrow passage leading underground was now revealed beneath the rubble.
Without hesitation, the angel dove into the hidden passageway.
Outside, concealed within the shadow of his angel, Lyle watched and waited with a patient gleam in his eyes.
He had given the angel one command: enter and destroy everything.
Lyle had no intention of entering a necromancer's lair himself. That was reckless. No—his goal was simple: force Khajiit to come out.
Boom! Boom-boom!
A rumble surged from beneath the temple as a series of impacts shook the ground.
Then, just as suddenly as they had started, the tremors ceased.
Lyle didn't need to guess what had happened. The angel had been destroyed.
Silence reclaimed the area, eerie and tense.
Then—
Shuffle…
One after another, rotting corpses began crawling from the tunnel. Roughly a dozen undead—zombies with tattered clothing and a rank stench of decay—dragged themselves into the open.
"Graah…"
"Hrrg…"
"Graahhh…"
Despite their grotesque appearances and ghastly moans, they didn't charge wildly. Instead, they formed a line, guarding the tunnel's entrance with eerie coordination.
Khajiit was testing him.
Lyle, still cloaked in shadow, narrowed his eyes as he peered past his guardian angel.
Cautious bastard.
He had considered sending all his angels at once—overwhelming the underground chamber with a sudden blitz in hopes of cutting Khajit down in one furious strike.
It could've worked, too.
But then again, if Khajiit was hiding here, in such an obviously vulnerable temple, he was surely prepared for that very scenario. There might even be an escape tunnel hidden below. If Khajiit managed to flee, it would be far harder to track him down a second time.
"Second-tier Guardian Angels…" a voice drawled from the depths of the tunnel.
It was low and cold, yet every syllable carried clearly in the unsettling silence of the graveyard.
Clack… Clack…
Footsteps sounded on the stone stairs.
A figure emerged from the underground.
An old man—or at least, he appeared old. Dressed in a blood-red mage's robe, his bald head and pallid, almost sickly skin gave him the look of someone in his sixties. Yet he walked with unhurried confidence.
Around his neck hung a necklace adorned with three miniature skulls. In his left hand, he held a long black staff. In his right, he carried a black stone the size of two clenched fists.
One look at him, and danger was obvious.
The moment Lyle saw him, he pulled his consciousness back, blending deeper into the shadow of his angel.
Don't be fooled by appearances.
Khajiit looked like he was in his late fifties or sixties, but his actual age was only a bit over forty. The years of negative energy exposure had accelerated the decay of his body.
A living person who manipulates the undead is always subject to corruption from that negative energy. There are only two ways to survive it:
One—forsake your humanity entirely and become an undead, trading your mortality for eternal life.
Two—succumb and die, then be raised as a soulless thrall without self-awareness.
And Lyle was certain—Khajiit had chosen the first path.