Rogue hadn't dreamed for a long time. With his superhuman psychic power and the iron will inherited from the Necromancer, it was impossible for dreams to appear.
Yet now, Rogue felt disoriented, unsure of his location. Gray mist surrounded him on all sides. He tried waving his hand; the mist felt substantial, leaving a layer of slippery, cold, damp gray sludge on his skin. The light around was oppressive and dim, allowing him to see only about ten meters ahead. A solitary withered tree stood not far away, all its branches twisted strangely, appearing utterly bizarre.
There was no trace of life here.
Rogue wasn't averse to the aura of death, but such a pure and intense death energy made him extremely uncomfortable. Where was this? Rogue shouted, but couldn't hear a sound.
"This is the world of death, the paradise of the undead, the final purgatory for all living things!" A cold, evil, sharp voice breached Rogue's mental barrier and echoed in his mind. "Who are you?!" Rogue roared, but the voice gave no further response.
Rogue wanted to scream, but no sound came out. He wanted to run, but couldn't move. Only fear, despair, and the urge to shatter remained.
A powerful suction force from afar pulled Rogue into the air, swiftly breaking through the thin mist, carrying him through the void.
Rogue watched as bizarre forests, gray-black rivers, and bare hilltops rapidly passed beneath his feet. Experiencing flight for the first time, his heart almost leaped from his throat. But he still couldn't move. All he could do was use his psychic power to protect his entire body, preventing his life force from leaking out. This strange world continuously siphoned the energy of living beings.
The sky was also gray. The clouds were like lead, the wind like knives. It was suffocating enough to drive one mad.
Looking through the clouds, there was an endless gray expanse. Within this gray, points of light emerged, though their source was unknown.
A giant bone bird flew through the air, heading straight for Rogue. Rogue's nerves stretched taut, but he was powerless. His face contorted, eyes bulging.
*Swish!* The bone bird passed straight through Rogue's body as if the fat man were an illusion.
The fat man traced an arc, falling from the sky directly towards a small hill.
The hill was littered with countless skeletons, but in the center stood a skeleton holding its ground proudly. A deep black scythe occasionally flashed with a cold light – it was Fengyue.
Rogue plummeted straight down. Fengyue turned its head, seemingly gazing at Rogue. With a roar in his mind, Rogue felt the world spin. When he regained clarity, he found himself merged with Fengyue, yet still unable to move, only feeling his vast psychic power being sucked away like a tide.
A gust of wind sprang up from where Fengyue stood, sweeping up all the skeletons within a few dozen meters, sending them flying in all directions. The flames in Fengyue's eye sockets shifted from pale white to a dark red. A shade of black spread from its head down its body. In the blink of an eye, the white skeleton was dyed a deep black. The scars and marks on its bones vanished without a trace as the black color washed over them.
Fengyue threw its head back in a silent shriek. The bone wings on its back, which had always hung limp, now bloomed like spring flowers, gradually unfolding and rising.
That shade of black flowed down Fengyue's arms and stained the scythe. The stained hilt began to writhe like a living thing, like an old vine growing wildly along the handle. Several sharp metal spikes extended from the broad scythe blade. The blade itself writhed, acquiring several new angles and turns. Tiny lightning bolts skittered across its surface.
An intangible barrier force field extended from Fengyue, reaching about ten meters around it. Any living being within this barrier would be subjected to constant mental assaults from various negative emotions. Of course, this barrier was utterly useless in this undead paradise.
After a long while, Fengyue raised its head and looked towards the other side of the hill. Rogue, his psychic power nearly drained, also clearly sensed an ancient, evil, icy, and arrogant presence over there.
Waves of excitement, fear, and anticipation from Fengyue's mind assaulted Rogue's nerves. He didn't know how to comprehend the current situation. Previously, he could only give Fengyue various commands through consciousness but couldn't sense any of Fengyue's own thoughts. Now, however, Rogue could feel Fengyue's intense emotional fluctuations, though there were no clear, distinct thoughts.
Fengyue suddenly leaped high from the hilltop, gliding through the air for over ten meters as if riding the waves before descending and disappearing into the gray mist.
Within the mist, Rogue strained his eyes but could only see five meters ahead. Fengyue moved with extreme speed, racing swiftly towards the other side of the hill. It leaped high, crouched low, occasionally sidestepping to avoid a sudden withered tree, scaring Rogue into a cold sweat.
Rogue finally managed to calm his mind. Since his eyes couldn't see clearly, he索性 began using his psychic power to probe his surroundings. The fat man's consciousness gradually sank, as if submerging into a tranquil lake surface. His eyes still only saw about five meters, but beyond his visual range, the outlines of objects gradually appeared, shifting from blurry to clear. Delighted, Rogue's concentration wavered, and he was once again limited to the five-meter range. Hurriedly, the fat man focused his mind, and the objects outside his line of sight reappeared. Slowly, Rogue became more adept at maintaining this state of equanimity, waves of psychic power spreading out like living things, sensing objects from large to small, from near to far.
Suddenly, Rogue's psychic touch brushed against a mass of evil, icy energy. The sudden ferocity, savagery, and intense craving for flesh and blood nearly suffocated Rogue. Simultaneously, Fengyue immediately turned its head towards that direction, stopped, turned, and charged over at full speed.
A zombie emerged from the gray mist. This zombie's flesh was blackened but exceptionally sturdy. It wore crude leather armor and held a short sickle in each hand. From his recent study of various undead bestiaries, Rogue immediately recognized this as a Zombie Warrior. Zombie Warriors were often transformed from skilled warriors with strong wills in life, retaining some of their combat awareness and skills. They were invariably several times more powerful than ordinary zombies.
Fengyue charged up to the Zombie Warrior, raised its long-handled scythe high, and brought it down in a chop. The Zombie Warrior raised both sickles high, attempting to block. Fengyue's scythe suddenly accelerated mid-swing, evaded the block, and chopped down. The Zombie Warrior was quite agile; though caught off guard, its body instinctively dodged backwards. Fengyue's scythe struck it but struggled against its tough flesh, only carving a foot-long, inch-and-a-half deep wound on its chest. The skin and flesh were parted, revealing dead gray, desiccated meat, entirely different from the festering, pus-filled wounds of ordinary zombies. The Zombie Warrior's movements seemed unaffected by the wound, remaining very swift.
Fengyue was an old hand at dealing with zombies. It immediately applied its tried-and-true tactic, began circling the Zombie Warrior, its long-handled scythe appearing and disappearing unpredictably, frequently breaking through the Zombie Warrior's defense to leave another long but shallow wound. Many ants can kill an elephant; with enough wounds, the Zombie Warrior's movements inevitably slowed. However, limited by a skeleton's innate lack of strength, Fengyue could only engage in a war of attrition.
Rogue tried again to probe the Zombie Warrior with his psychic power, sensing a thin layer of magical energy covering its entire body. Well-versed in low-level magic, Rogue knew this was the effect of a Mage Armor spell. He hadn't expected this Zombie Warrior to naturally possess such protective magic. This completely contradicted the bestiaries. Focusing his mind, Rogue increased the frequency of his psychic power and sensed that same mass of icy energy within the Zombie Warrior's body. Now that he was closer, this energy mass was as conspicuous as a lighthouse in the night. An idea struck Rogue. He carefully attempted to envelop the energy mass with his psychic power, then roared mentally, unleashing his full psychic power in a fierce, concentrated squeeze on that mass. The Zombie Warrior immediately shuddered violently. The protective energy of its Mage Armor receded like a tide. Then it trembled incessantly, struggling desperately. Pain, fear, and even sorrow washed over Rogue in waves. By now, the fat man's will was firm as steel, utterly unmoved. He just kept pressing down on that energy mass.
How clever was Fengyue? It wouldn't let such an opportunity slip. Its Death Scythe danced wildly, a dozen or so black lines crisscrossing to form a net that silently drifted over the Zombie Warrior's body. The Zombie Warrior froze instantly. A moment later, with a *boom*, it shattered into several dozen small pieces, scattering across the ground. That energy mass also exploded, transforming into countless points of shimmering light that drifted away in all directions. Fengyue leaped for joy, sucking in all the drifting energy sparks and merging them with the energy mass deep within its own skull. The satisfaction and pleasure were like a parched desert traveler drinking deeply from a clear spring, moistening Fengyue's entire being. Rogue also got a small taste, a minor replenishment.
The air grew solemn and murderous.
Fengyue and Rogue stopped their enjoyment, waiting quietly. Countless life-and-death situations had long since honed their exceptionally sharp intuition.
The surrounding environment projected itself into Rogue's mental world. The dazzling small ball of golden light at the center was the Divine Origin energy hidden deep within Fengyue's skull. Surrounding the golden light was a ring of purplish-black mist dotted with golden sparks, which felt strangely familiar to Rogue – it seemed he now existed as this cloud of psychic energy. Over this period, Fengyue's energy had grown considerably.
Around Fengyue's golden light, dozens of icy, pale energy masses lit up one by one, some bright, some dim. Seven or eight of these energy masses were similar to the previous Zombie Warrior's. Further away, the largest energy mass shone with a clear, cold, pale blue light, its energy intensity nearly equivalent to three Zombie Warriors. A chill ran down Rogue's spine. He scanned the entire battlefield. As far as he could see, zombies of various levels were struggling to climb out of the earth.
Fengyue and Rogue were now of one mind. They had to temporarily abandon the idea of confronting the evil presence on the other side of the hill. Just this peripheral group of zombies seemed too much to handle. Escape was the best policy. Of course, Fengyue's thoughts weren't this complex; it simply seemed to understand Rogue's idea and charged swiftly in the direction opposite the largest energy mass. On the way, it dispatched a few low-level zombies struggling out of the earth with several slashes in passing.
Just as they were about to break out, a Zombie Warrior blocked their path. Fengyue and Rogue repeated their tactic: Rogue focused all his effort on attacking the Zombie Warrior's energy core, freezing it in place, while Fengyue swung its scythe. This time, the scythe was wreathed in electricity, easily breaking through the Zombie Warrior's protective Mage Armor. Although it still didn't cut it in half, the blade sank in over a foot deep. The Zombie Warrior's energy mass began to disperse again, but Fengyue had no time to absorb it. It cut down two more blocking low-level zombies and made its escape.
Rogue clearly felt the pursuing pale blue energy mass filled with rage and resentment. But zombies could hardly match a skeleton's speed, and Fengyue was unnaturally fast for a skeleton. The most powerful zombie (Rogue didn't yet know if it was a Zombie Lord or a Millennium Zombie King) had no chance of catching up. With escape assured, Rogue gathered all his psychic power and delivered a mental冲击 to that pale blue energy mass, immediately causing it to scatter sparks like a candle flame in a storm. Rogue himself didn't feel too good either, feeling dizzy and seeing stars for a while before recovering.
Rogue laughed triumphantly. Before his laughter faded, he saw Fengyue charging straight towards a cliff and leaping off. The rapid descent made fear surge like an angry tide, drowning Rogue.
"Ah!"
With a sharp cry, Rogue sat up in bed, his pillow and sheets soaked with sweat. He gasped for breath, momentarily unsure whether the experience had been a dream, reality, or a blend of both.
"Lord Rogue, are you alright?" A pretty maidservant pushed the door open and entered, sleepy-eyed, her thin nightgown half-open. "Did you have a nightmare? Would you like me to stay with you?" Her eyes and brows were full of suggestion.
Rogue sat quietly, reflecting on the dream, seeming to gain some insight. He looked at the maidservant, a flash of purplish-black mist passing through his eyes. The maidservant immediately grunted, two streams of blood flowing from her nose as she collapsed softly to the floor, unconscious.
"Ahahahaha!!!" Rogue threw his head back and laughed maniacally. Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating his face, making him look like a reincarnated demon.
A thunderclap followed, and rain poured down in torrents.
Shortly after the investiture, a summons arrived from Lyon City. Rogue and the others set off for the capital to assume their posts. By now, the territory was somewhat organized and on track. The Hammer of the War God would likely use up nearly half of the shipped iron ore themselves, and the rest wouldn't sell for much. Apart from covering castle maintenance costs, the remaining funds were used for road construction.
Winter in the mountains was still very cold. A heavy snowfall a few days prior had blanketed the entire mountain region in silver-white. The afternoon sun shone on vast stretches of frost-covered trees, refracting into rainbow halos, resembling a crystal palace.
Over a hundred Dragon and Beauty mercenaries marched leisurely on the road out of the mountains. Seven months ago, they were either defeated soldiers or street ruffians and military scoundrels. But tempered through life-and-death battles, those who remained were seasoned veterans, battle-hardened and ruthless killers. Though old habits died hard, and they still carried a somewhat bandit-like air, each emanated a faint killing intent.
Buddhas need gilding, men need fine clothes. The mercenaries were already well-equipped. After a month of rest and reorganization at Cyrus Castle, their gear was refurbished. Each was issued a crimson velvet cloak, and their warhorses were fitted with half-front bronze barding. This troop, when paraded, looked every bit like an elite knight order. Who would guess they were a third-rate miscellaneous unit? The last fifty or so men at the rear of the column wore simple leather armor, carried bows and arrows, and followed the mercenaries on foot. These were the mountain folk Rogue had recruited; the fat man planned to train them properly.
Rogue, who had fallen seriously ill (actually due to depleted psychic power), still couldn't determine whether that night had been a dream or reality. Three days had passed, and only a small portion of his psychic power had recovered. However, the fat man had consequently mastered the secret of psychic strike. Currently, the fat man was sitting in a warm carriage, enjoying the privileges of an invalid. Though the rugged, uneven road frequently jolted him awake from sound sleep.
They finally reached Lyon City on this day. The mercenaries and Keith went separately to report to the military headquarters. As an independent cavalry battalion, Rogue and the others were assigned a small plot of their own within the Third Knight Order's garrison. Registering at the military department, receiving official seals, drawing salaries, collecting equipment, making the battalion standard, and so on – a pile of trivial tasks kept the nobles complaining incessantly.
The matter of the battalion standard alone went through two iterations. Initially, Lance volunteered to order the standard. When he returned and unfurled it, it depicted a portly dragon with a woman riding it – indeed with an angelic face and a devilish figure, her charms depicted in exquisite detail. Franco's face turned green.
Subsequently, Rogue took charge. Four days later, the banner featured an elegant Sprite Dragon leaning against a peerlessly beautiful bard, truly a woman of stunning beauty and unparalleled grace. But Franco found her increasingly familiar and finally recognized her as the most popular courtesan in Lyon City's most expensive pleasure house, "The Spirit of the Night." Flying this standard would likely get them impeached by the Noble Censorate immediately; not even Ophirok could protect them. Sighing in despair, the already overburdened Franco had to take on the task of the battalion standard. The others chuckled darkly, their expressions saying, "It should have been this way from the start."
Pleading illness, Rogue, utterly lacking a battalion commander's awareness, hid in his room daily, cultivating his psychic power and mana, and studying various books on Necromancy. Most Necromancy spells involved curses and summoning类 magic. Necromancers either simulated a soul-like energy core using their own mana – the resulting undead, while average in combat power, had the advantage of low mana cost and could follow simple combat orders. Another method was to collect the souls of the living and attach them to undead creatures. The combat power of undead created this way was closely related to the soul's strength and possessed a certain level of intelligence. If a powerful soul was used, a very powerful undead could be created. At this point, Rogue finally understood that the energy masses he sensed in his dream were the souls of the undead. He just couldn't distinguish whether they were mana-simulated or derived from living souls.
The Divine Origin that constituted Fengyue was the purest and most powerful soul energy. Fengyue was an anomaly that should not exist.
Existence is rational. So some ancient philosopher once said.
The rationality of existence lies in the fact that only the rational can exist. So some argued.
Even if it's irrational, as long as it continues to exist, doesn't that make it rational?
What is rational? And what is this 'Li' (principle/reason)?
The fat man's head spun.
"Even if it's irrational, I, and Fengyue, are here! If anyone dares to talk nonsense, I'll cut them in two first. Then I'll see how you exist and how you rationalize that?!"
While the fat man was struggling with abstract thought in his room, a soldier in plain clothes burst directly into his room. Rogue recognized him as one of Keith's guard knights. His face was bruised and swollen, and he looked panicked about something.
"Lord Rogue, something terrible has happened!"
"Speak slowly!" Rogue barked.
"Lord Keith took a dozen or so of us Lionheart Knights to gamble secretly at the 'Abyssal Demon Realm' casino," here the young knight blushed, though it wasn't very noticeable under the bruises. "Somehow, about a dozen men from the Second Knight Order were also gambling there. They recognized us as Lionheart Knights and started provoking us. We taught them a lesson. Who knew those grandsons would call over a hundred people! Now Lord Keith is trapped inside! He ordered me to break out and seek your aid!"
Rogue immediately threw aside the book *The Worldview of a Necromancer*, jumped up, and shouted, "Someone! Tell the brothers to gather their gear! Get clubs! Don't bring swords! And, don't wear uniforms!"
The Dragon and Beauty mercenaries had been so thoroughly disciplined over the past month that they were growing utterly stir-crazy. Hearing there was a fight, they moved with divine speed. By the time Rogue counted to fifteen on the small parade ground, his men had assembled completely, not a single one missing. So the group rushed off to the casino in a frenzy.
The mercenaries – no, they should be called knights now – arrived at the casino entrance to find two fierce-looking, burly men guarding the door, only letting people out, not in. The noble reprobates, seasoned by countless battles, immediately sensed something was wrong. At Rogue's command, twenty Dragon and Beauty knights pounced, ten against one, quickly dealt with the guards, and charged into the main hall.
The hall was very spacious but now in complete disarray. It was packed with a dark mass of big men, probably a hundred sixty or seventy. The men all wore brown undershirts, clearly the garments worn beneath knight armor. They were currently surrounding a small door at the edge of the hall, shouting insults. There was no response from inside, only Keith, holding a wooden lance, guarding the doorway. Just then, several more big men rushed forward. Keith sidestepped, letting the first five charge into the room, then blocked the doorway again. His wooden lance flickered, quickly striking down the remaining three men. It was also lively inside the room, but it quieted down after a moment. With several *thuds*, five naked big men were thrown out, their family jewels a mass of blue and purple.
After Rogue and the others flooded into the hall, the big men stirred uneasily. One who seemed to be the leader stepped forth from the crowd and declared loudly, "I am Paxis, Battalion Commander of the Second Knight Order! Which unit are you brothers from? This is a private matter between the Second and First Knight Orders! Think carefully before meddling!"
The knight who had brought Rogue whispered, "This Paxis is an 8th Level Knight, sir, be careful. I'm afraid the Second Knight Order might send reinforcements soon. We need to resolve this quickly!"
Rogue asked quietly, "Has the Second Knight Order seen battle in recent years?"
The Lionheart Knight replied, "I don't think they've ever been on the battlefield."
Rogue felt relieved. He shouted, "We're the Independent Battalion of the Third Knight Order! Release our men immediately, and we can let this matter rest!"
Paxis and his men looked at each other and burst into laughter. As a main force knight order, they had never placed these miscellaneous units in their eyes!
Rogue's face turned from white to green, then from green to black from the laughter. He was about to shout "Hit them hard!" when Franco, like a wisp of smoke, rushed up to Paxis. His three-foot club stabbed towards Paxis's eyes like a venomous snake. Paxis, shocked by the sudden attack, hurriedly leaned back. Franco's club just grazed his eyelids. Before Paxis could react, Franco delivered a silent groin kick from below. Paxis had to roll on the ground to dodge it. But was Franco so easy to deal with? Once he gained the upper hand, his club shadows flourished, constantly targeting Paxis's family jewels and happiness root. Facing great peril, Paxis rolled around on the ground with astonishing agility, and Franco couldn't finish him off immediately. Legend spoke of unique martial arts from the mysterious Eastern Otherworld, including a ground-fighting technique. Perhaps Paxis had received true instruction in it.
The Dragon and Beauty mercenaries were fierce and vicious. Though they didn't use blades, they employed all sorts of street brawling and battlefield survival techniques. Orthodox knightly combat skills weren't of much use in this melee.
The Second Knight Order was indeed well-trained. A dozen or so big men formed a dense charging formation, rushed into the Dragon and Beauty ranks, quickly knocked down several men, and moved about freely. Just as they were feeling triumphant, a faint, dark, transparent小球 flew over, exploding softly. A wave of psychic oscillation spread out – a third-level spell, Fear, cast by Rogue. The big men immediately scattered in terror like birds and beasts. The two with strong wills, unaffected, were immediately beaten down by the Dragon and Beauty knights.
A few big men from the Second Knight Order, seeing Rogue was a mage, thought they had an easy target and charged towards him in a group. Rogue snorted. In front of everyone, he easily lifted a several-hundred-pound gambling table and hurled it at them with a *whoosh*, promptly pinning all the big men underneath. *Crack* sounds followed; breaking a few ribs was unavoidable.
The casino fell silent for a moment, everyone breaking out in a cold sweat.
The fat man's modified body possessed immense brute strength. Normally, he could still jump and move nimbly even while wearing over eighty pounds of full plate armor. But his martial skills were truly mediocre, and he had little interest in cultivating them. Against a true expert, he'd be like an ox facing a leopard – certainly helpless.
Lance hid behind a pillar, brandishing a delicate crossbow. Three-inch short arrows flew out rapidly, this time tipped with tranquilizer. One by one, Second Knight Order knights inexplicably collapsed.
Seeing an opportunity, Keith also led the knights from inside the room to charge out. The situation was now hopeless for the Second Cavalrymen.
A puff of black mist drifted behind Rogue. A skeletal head peeked out, saw the battle was decided, and retreated back in.
In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the Dragon and Beauty mercenaries, using vicious and underhanded tactics the Second Cavalry had never seen or heard of, had defeated the larger force, leaving the big men lying all over the ground. Only Paxis was still holding on stubbornly.
Franco's black hair fluttered as he viciously stabbed and poked at Paxis with his wooden club. Paxis rolled and crawled, letting out occasional howls of pain, completely unaware that he was rolling in circles around Franco.
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