Chapter 917 (2/2)

Fireballs and Ice Spears began to fly intermittently toward Randidly, giving the close range troops cover to approach.

Randidly calmy stood while Helen, a motivated woman who Glendel had never actually spoken to, asked a very sharp question. From this distance, Glendel’s eyes could see the supple softness of her lips as she spoke and read the words.

“I suppose a knight should lead the way for her Lord?”

But Randidly shook his head sharply. As the spells thrown toward him approached, he didn’t even raise his spear to defend himself.

“What the hell…?” Isabella mumbled. There were tight lines around Alana’s eyes as she watched the beginning stages of this battle that was being entirely ignored by the one side. Glendel’s spirits turned restless, which put him on edge.

Often, those spirits’ senses were sharper than his own.

As the projectiles whizzed closer, he still didn't move. But the ash swirling around at his feet… they transformed into sharp blades and cut upwards, knocking the Skills out of the sky. When the ash blades and the Skills clashes, the Skills were summarily extinguished. After each collision, the blades just drifted downward, settling around Randidly’s feet, seemingly unaffected.

Not a single attack was able to pierce through that defense. The air around Randidly was filled with the clash and fizzle of fire, ice, lightning, and poison. The ground around the Ghosthound began to crack and warp as the effects were discharged there, leaving the central figure himself completely untouched.

And these weren’t just one or two Skills. Almost a half dozen arrived every second, shooting out from the three groups to keep Randidly under control.

Noticing they were ineffective, the leader of the Squads instantly sent out the hold order. The flood of Skills stopped, giving Glendel an unimpeded view.

The Ghosthound’s lips moved. And the line said to Helen, at that moment, made Glendel’s blood run cold.

“Some lessons need to be taught personally.”

After he spoke, the whole arena seemed to change. There was abruptly a darkness that swept across the sky. Confused, Glendel looked upward. It was a cloudless day. The sun was hanging above them, releasing constant warmth.

Yet… why was it suddenly so cold and dismal…?

“First team!” The leader of the Squads barked. The front twenty or so members of the middle squad started into a dead run, rushing toward the Ghosthound’s position. There were monsters that resembled this manner of operation, occasionally. Ones that could perform a powerful wide area ritual. Often, the best response to that was to directly engage and overpower the opponent while the ritual was occurring.

Considering the wide effect of whatever the Ghosthound was doing, Glendel could logically understand why the leader had chosen this tactic. Based upon his experience, the Ghosthound would likely use the most effective means to strike down this mass of people. That is, he would rely on powerful area Skills to reduce their fighting strength and then pick them apart.

Therefore, following this logic, striking before that happened was the best response. The spirits inside of Glendel rustled uneasily

But what Glendel’s instincts were screaming at him right now was to do the exact opposite. Wait. Watch. This isn’t something we’ve seen before.

“Why do I feel like they are going to get massacred...” Isabella said, slack-jawed.

Alana hummed her agreement. “Are you starting to get it? If the Ghosthound couldn't’ handle this much, Donnyton wouldn’t even exist. Now watch closely. He’s about to move.”

But it wasn’t Randidly that moved, not at first. Even as those Donnyton Squads were sprinting at him, decreasing the distance between them to only a few meters, Randidly remained still. Instead, the sky above him seemed to tremble.

Then, slowly, like a wooden door swinging open in a horror movie, a dark portal creaked open and something strolled down to tower above them all.

It was a skeleton with bones the dark grey of cast iron, floating downward into position above Randidly. Every second, its bones seemed to be disintegrating, causing a small smog of grey particles to waft outward into the air around its body. Somehow it also seemed to be breathing, sending rippling billows of that smog outward from its torso to surround its limbs.

The skeleton was human, except for two details.

The first detail was its hands, which ended in long knife-like blades. With that grey smog obscuring most of its body, all that could be clearly seen of it were the intermittent flashes of those blades.

The second detail was, perhaps, not something that made the skeleton inhuman. But it made its visage chilling to look at: it didn’t possess the bottom part of its jaw. Its front teeth stabbed crudely downwards, crooked and broken, hanging in the air.

With great care, it surveyed the charging squad members, who were so intent on Randidly that they likely didn’t even look up to see this terrible specter. Then it moved, and with it, Randidly moved too, charging directly toward his opponents.