In an instant!
A pulse of overwhelming magical energy burst out from around Khajiit, forming a wave of pure negative energy that swept outward in every direction like a shockwave of death.
Lyle's eyes narrowed sharply as he instinctively braced himself.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The wings of his two Guardian Angels flared open behind him and, with a soft hum, positioned themselves in front of Lyle, shielding him from the corrupting energy spilling out from the enemy.
Thud!
A low, bone-deep tremor rippled through the ground beneath them.
Splorch! Splorch! Splorch!
Rotting hands suddenly burst through the soil. One after another, decomposed limbs clawed their way out of the earth, dragging ruined corpses up from the underworld.
All around them, the undead were rising.
Some crawled straight from crumbling tombstones, others dragged themselves along the ground using only their arms, pulling shattered, uncooperative torsos behind them like stubborn luggage at an airport from hell.
Splurt!
Even beneath Lyle's own feet, a rotten hand thrust up from the soil. But before it could so much as twitch, one of the Guardian Angels struck down with its radiant spear, skewering the undead hand into the dirt like an overly aggressive gardener planting rotten carrots.
[You gained 1 EXP.]
[EXP Bar: 171 / 10,000]
"Huh?"
Lyle paused mid-step, blinking. Wait a minute… did I just get EXP from something my summon killed?
He hadn't tested that before.
That was… kind of a game-changer.
If my summons can earn me EXP too, then I've been doing this the hard way for no reason!
Though—
1 EXP?
That was embarrassingly low. Sure, these were bottom-tier undead, the kind that might get beaten by a particularly angry cat, but still—one point?
Maybe EXP gained through summons was reduced somehow.
Or perhaps high-level players just got less EXP from low-tier enemies.
Well, not the time to overthink it.
All around, the undead surged.
"Raaaaghhh!"
"Hissss!"
"Uuurrghh!"
A horde of groaning, staggering zombies filled the graveyard. Just from what Lyle could see, there had to be over a hundred of them, maybe more.
"Undead Control!"
Khajiit's pale, corpse-colored face twisted into a smug grin.
"You thought sending your little friends to lure away the undead was enough to protect yourself?"
He raised his arms theatrically, his voice echoing.
"This is a graveyard, fool. If there's one thing we have in abundance, it's corpses!"
His tone turned commanding.
"Kill him."
At his order, the horde of undead surged forward like a tidal wave of rot and groaning limbs.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The two Guardian Angels flanking Lyle raised their radiant spears once more. Their golden wings pulsed with divine light as they began sweeping through the crowd of undead, each strike vaporizing zombies on contact.
[You gained 1 EXP.]
[You gained 1 EXP.]
[ … ]
Lyle stayed calm, his gaze never leaving Khajiit, who stood arrogantly atop the temple steps.
"These are just low-tier zombies," he said flatly. "Throwing more of them at me doesn't make them less pathetic."
He knew full well—Khajiit wasn't going all out yet. This was a test. And while the necromancer played his little game, he was likely preparing something more dangerous behind the scenes.
"Oh? Is that so?" Khajiit sneered.
FWIP!
Without warning, something shot out from the zombie horde.
It was—was that a glistening red intestine?
Yep. A disturbingly smooth, blood-slick gut rope lashed through the air like some unholy grappling hook and wrapped itself tightly around one of the Guardian Angels—specifically the one whose armor was already a little corroded.
BAM!
With a vicious snap, the intestine yanked the Angel down into the dirt with a meaty thunk.
In a flash, dozens of zombies dogpiled onto the divine creature.
They weren't strong enough to pierce its armor—zombies aren't exactly known for finesse—but the thick aura of negative energy around them was a different story. It eroded divine essence like acid on silver.
BOOM!
Within seconds, the Guardian Angel gave a final flash of light and burst into glowing motes, fading from the world.
Lyle finally saw the thing responsible.
It was an egg-shaped mass of flesh—a humanoid corpse, cracked open along its middle like a grotesque Easter egg. Inside writhed a full set of twitching internal organs, disturbingly intact and horribly alive.
And the intestine that lashed out?
Yep, it shot from inside that gory egg sac.
Low-tier Undead – Organ Egg.
Gross.
Even Lyle couldn't help but frown.
And that wasn't the end of it.
FWOOSH!
Six more undead burst out of the ground like horror movie jack-in-the-boxes. These ones were slimy yellow, their skin completely rotted off, and they moved far faster than typical zombies.
Low-tier Undead – Corpse-Eaters.
They zipped through the air like leaping piranhas and latched onto the remaining Guardian Angel, dragging it down just like the first.
Despite its resistance, the second angel was soon overwhelmed and also vanished in a shower of light.
Two Guardian Angels, gone in moments.
And Khajiit hadn't even gotten his robes dirty.
He hadn't used brute force, just clever tactics and the natural weakness of Angels against overwhelming negative energy. A clear sign—Khajiit knew exactly what he was doing when it came to fighting summoned holy creatures.
"If that's all you've got," Khajiit said condescendingly, raising his head and staring down at Lyle from his perch. "Then it's already too late to beg for mercy, you idiot."
He smirked, basking in the sound of his own voice.
He knew all about faith-based mages. After all…
He used to be one.
But no matter how strong faith magic was, it couldn't bring his mother back from the dead. Not really.
And to research higher-level resurrection spells? That took time.
Time humans didn't have.
So he gave up his humanity. He abandoned the divine path and the light of faith.
And in return, embraced the cold, endless eternity of undeath.
Now, he would become something beyond human—a true undead lord.
And anyone who stood in his way?
Only one fate awaited them.
"Die."
CRASH!
The zombie tide came crashing down toward Lyle.
The entrail-egg launched another intestine like a blood-soaked whip. The six Corpse-Eaters lunged forward with predatory speed.
But Lyle just sighed.
"This little game of yours has gone on long enough."
From beneath his black cloak, his hands emerged—each holding a glowing scroll.
Snap!
Two radiant spells activated at once.
Twin orbs of blinding white light shimmered into form in front of Lyle.
A moment later—FWOOM!—a fiery blade appeared in midair, burning hot and bright.
The intestine was instantly sliced clean in half by the flaming sword. The rest of it turned to ash under the intense heat.
The six Corpse-Eaters?
They never stood a chance.
A towering figure descended from above—an Angel wreathed in fire—and with a series of sweeping strikes, carved the Corpse-Eaters into flaming confetti.
Whoosh—
The wind stirred gently.
Two Flame Archangels now hovered beside Lyle, one on each side. Each wielded a flaming longsword wreathed in holy fire. Their wings glowed brightly in the darkness, turning the gloomy graveyard into a radiant battlefield.
The oppressive presence of these two summoned titans—part divine, part infernal—radiated scorching heat and divine power. The surrounding zombies froze in place, no longer daring to approach.
Lyle, clad in his voluminous black cloak and hidden beneath a deep hood, stood calmly between the blazing angels, his face unseen, but his presence undeniably commanding.
He now radiated an aura of divine mystery.
Across from him stood Khajiit, surrounded by a swarm of groaning corpses, cloaked in crimson robes and dripping with necrotic energy—a grim parody of power.
The contrast couldn't have been clearer.