Chapter 133: Withered Wraith and Death Knight
Meizhuolashi stared at the unknown entities surging in from all directions, slowly closing in on them. He recognized these creatures—once seen in the journal of a Necromancer.
"Withered Wraith! They’re spreading the Darkness Infection Plague!"
"They feed on Darkness drawn from the soil, carrying ancient evil will wherever they go. In forests infected by the Wraiths, trees and plants grow at unnatural speeds. Vines and undergrowth erupt across constructions and roads in a matter of hours. Once the Wraiths have slaughtered or driven out every resident, an entire village can vanish within days."
Meizhuolashi slashed through a thorned tendril lashing out from the Darkness, cursing under his breath.
"Damned! I heard the first Withered Wraiths were birthed from Vampire Blood. That old vampire had been preparing for this all along!"
Alje gripped his Everburning Greatsword and plunged it deep into the twisted limb of a Withered Vine Monster. Flames erupted from the blade, engulfing the creature in a roaring inferno. The Monster shrieked in agony before crumbling into ash.
Alje bellowed, "They burn easily!"
As the creatures—once hidden in shadows, concealed within the dense woods—revealed their true forms, the Players began unleashing their Supernatural Powers.
Stuffed Bun, staring at the earlier vine-like Wraiths, watched his Character Sheet refresh with new data.
> [Withered Vine Monster]
> Challenge Rating: 1 (200 experience points)
Stuffed Bun exhaled sharply, then fury flared.
"I thought it was some filthy abomination, but it’s just a low-tier mob? You dare scare old Stuffed Bun? Die!"
He charged forward, sword raised.
The twisted mass of vines trembled, emitting a voice choked with terror:
"It’s got me… don’t leave me… please… help me…"
The Withered Vine Monster was the only type of Withered Wraith capable of speech. It mimicked the broken, fractured tones of its dead master, using the voice of the fallen to taunt its victims.
But seeing its health bar, Stuffed Bun felt not fear—but insulted rage. His fury boiled over.
"Still trying to scare me?!"
"Give me your death!"
He drove his sword deep into the brittle, withered vine.
As the faint glow of his Ring of Burning flared, searing fire surged along the blade, igniting the dry, brittle form. The creature writhed in flames before collapsing into ash.
Stuffed Bun pulled the blade free, smirking.
"Not even a challenge. One strike, one corpse."
Singo loosed a volley of flame arrows, then added with cold mockery:
"Who was trembling in fear just a moment ago?"
Xia Ye Qiu Yu’s golden eyes burned with indignation. She parted her lips slightly.
> [Aganassa Flame Blast]
A torrent of searing fire erupted in a sweeping line, reducing more than a dozen Withered Wraiths to charcoal in an instant.
But she wasn’t the Player with the widest kill radius.
Chenguang Xiwu, Guild Leader of Eternal Radiance and a光明 Priest, charged straight into the heart of the dark forest, lifting his heavy mace high.
> [Channel Divine Power: Dawn Light]
From his very being, endless Luminous energy poured forth. Light flooded the darkness like a rising sun.
The oppressive shadows vanished. Hundreds of Withered Wraiths, rushing toward him, were instantly purified—before they could even scream—reduced to fine ash.
Meanwhile, Steel Tide casually chewed on a cigar, tossing rune-laden bombs with practiced ease.
"Art… is explosion."
With thunderous detonations, waves of fire spread outward. The Wraiths before him were vaporized, leaving only charred remains.
The Withered Wraiths lurking in the shadows might claim the lives of careless Civilians or lone Adventurers—but against Players, especially those wielding fire and destruction with such flair, they were utterly powerless.
After all, the ancient Evil Strength had never taught them how to fight The Fourth Plague.
The Players carved through the cursed forest, emerging at last before the gates of Lakanman Castle.
Behind them, the Twilight Grove now blazed—smoke choked the air, flames danced across the ground, and the remains of Withered Wraiths lay scattered, reduced to ash.
Above, the Sky was veiled in a thin, crimson haze, as if the heavens themselves were bleeding.
Lakanman Castle stood in ruin, aged and decayed, as if battered by centuries of time. Built from black stone, its walls were cracked and overgrown with moss, stained with old, dried Bloodstains. The jagged spires pierced the storm-laden sky, casting an oppressive, chilling aura.
Windows were barred with iron grates and spikes, giving the fortress a prison-like appearance—sealed, threatening, and sealed against the world.
Shadows seeped from the castle, blanketing the earth in Darkness, pressing down on the soul with suffocating fear.
Meizhuolashi gazed upward at the crumbling fortress, then smirked at Alje beside him.
"So this is where you used to live?"
"No wonder you turned out so twisted."
Alje shook his head. "No. When I left, it wasn’t like this."
He stared at the massive, iron-bound gates, his expression grim.
"Someone else has been here. Probably that vampire Duke. He’s done this… again."
A piercing, bone-chilling screech tore through the air.
Alje snapped to alertness, shouting:
"Watch out!"
"This isn’t the wind!"
His years of battle had taught him—this was no ordinary threat.
The Players whirled around, scanning the area—but saw nothing.
"Enemy’s above!"
"Damn it!"
In the gloomy sky, a massive Bone Hawk circled, wings of yellowed, split bones trailing ghostly green flames. The wind whistled through its hollow joints, creating that eerie, wailing shriek—like the cries of lost souls.
Perched atop the creature’s back was a Death Knight—dressed in terrifying Plate Armor, its skull helmet revealing glowing, malevolent eyes that burned with endless hatred for the living.
"Intruders!"
"I will—kill you!"
The Knight let out a rasping cry, then plummeted toward the ground in a deadly dive.
Alje locked eyes on the creature, whispering,
"Old沃德…"
Old沃德—the former Instructor of the Northwind Eagle Guard, the man who had taught Alje everything. Wode Kris had once fought for the Duchy of Lakanman, riding the skies with valor and honor, earning legendary Battle Merits. Yet, in the end, he had asked only to serve as a mentor—training the next generation of Eagle Guards.
Now, that loyal, noble soul had been twisted into a mindless Death Knight—reborn by the Duke’s dark magic, forced to eternally guard the castle he once defended, unaware of his fate.
Alje clenched his sword tighter, his voice low and cold.
"I’ll set you free."
"You old nuisance."
(End of Chapter)
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