Three ghostly puppets, exact dark copies of the casters they had been now they stood ready under his control. Their violet eyes, glowing with a cold light, stared at the remaining members of Derek's team.
The four brawlers left, who had been the strong and scary part of Derek's group, now looked like scared animals trapped in a pen.
They kept slipping and sliding on the slippery ice that Masha had created. Their bravery was gone when they saw their dead friends come back as his servants.
"It's not over yet," Dante said, his voice sharp and clear through the air. "Finish them off."
His team, driven by strong anger for their lost friends, didn't need any more pushing. The fight after that wasn't really a battle; it was just taking them out.
Masha stretched out her hands, and the ice area moved around, making sharp spikes come up from under the brawlers' feet, making them trip and lose their balance.
Erica, with her mana coming back bit by bit, sent out exact painful firebolts that were more for distracting them than hurting a lot, making them pull back at the worst times.
Jin, his injuries somewhat fixed by Rina's constant healing, moved like a fast shadow of revenge. He fought with a calm deadly style, his sword hitting the weak spots in their awkward blocks.
He didn't swing wildly like earlier; every hit was a planned way to end a life.
But the real scary part for them was the puppets. The three shadows rushed ahead, like a wave of quiet, unbeatable death.
The brawlers yelled as they got surrounded, their simple maces and axes going right through the puppets' ghost-like bodies without doing anything.
A brawler would try to hit a shadow, but it would just break apart and come back together behind him. They were up against ghosts, and they were getting beat hard.
One after another, they went down.
Thud.
The very last one, his eyes full of crazy fear, let go of his weapon and tried to give up, asking for mercy that wasn't there anymore in this area. Jin's sword ended his pleas for good.
As the final brawler fell, Dante felt the usual tug of their life energy, their mana, ready to be taken.
He reached out with his power on instinct, ready to make his army bigger, to bring these four tough guys up as his new front fighters. But when he tried to pull their spirits to him, he ran into a block.
It was a solid, unbreakable stop in his own ability, a top limit he didn't know about before. He could sense the four new bodies, all set to be raised, but his link wouldn't connect.
He checked his current summons. The first shadow he had made from the Toximancy user, and the three he had just done. That was four puppets.
The limit was four powerful people not just that E ranked goblins. At least for right now.
His power, even though it seemed so big, wasn't without end. It had its own rules. It had boundaries.
It was a key lesson that kept him grounded.
On the other side of the clearing, only one enemy was left. Derek.
He was still stuck in a hard fight. His big sword, wrapped in a red shine, hit hard against the solid block of Eric's shield and the quick strikes from Talia's rapier.
He was like a trapped animal using the last of his wild power.
"Eric. Talia," Dante called, his voice steady. "Step back."
They moved away right away, leaving Derek breathing hard in the middle of the ground covered in blood, with the bodies of all his team around him.
He looked at Dante, his chest moving up and down fast, his eyes full of hate and shock.
Dante started walking toward him. His four shadow puppets moved into place around him like guards for a leader.
The shadow of the Graviton user stayed on his left, the Phantasmist on his right. The Wardcrafter and the Toximancer stayed close behind. They all moved together, like a team of killers going for their last enemy.
"You see, Derek," Dante started, his voice normal, like they were talking about a bad school assignment. "You talked about 'survival of the fittest.' But you weren't really trying to be the best. You were just a bully with a strong new item."
"Shut your mouth!" Derek yelled, lifting his big sword. "I'll take you out myself!"
He ran at him. Dante didn't even move a bit.
"Edgar," he said without looking back. "Tell me more."
"His energy is almost gone!" Edgar's voice came strong and clear from behind. "The artifact on his sword is using up his own life! His swings are strong, but his steps are getting messy! He's protecting his right side more!"
As Derek's huge blade came down fast, Dante just took one easy step to his left. The sword hit the ground where he had stood, cutting a deep mark in the dirt. He didn't have to block it.
"You got nine people together, Derek," Dante went on, walking around him as he worked to pull his heavy sword out of the ground.
"You told them you were powerful, that you would get them to win. But you didn't lead them. You used them up."
"You wasted their lives for a short time of strength."
Derek finally got his sword free and swung again, a big side cut. This time, Dante stayed put.
The shadow of the Wardcraft user moved in front, putting up a ghost barrier. Derek's blade hit it with a low sound, the hit doing no damage.
"You thought killing made you better," Dante said, his voice showing some pity. "And it can."
"But you never thought about what type of strength you were making. You were just someone who killed without care."
"Me, though... I am someone who builds."
Angry now, Derek left him and ran at the puppets, swinging his sword like he was out of his mind. "I'll break your stupid toys!"
The puppets were quicker. His blade went through Toximancy user then his shadow went back to Dante. He wasnt released rather he was sent back to be used back.
It was like fighting against smoke.
"Every person you killed," Dante kept talking, his voice like a steady, cutting tool, "every life you ended, you were just collecting things for me."
"You were helping me without knowing it, Derek."
"You built a team with great ways to work together for killing, and by doing that, you gave me the best undead group I could want. So, from deep down... thanks for the present."
That was the last hit. Not with a weapon, but with words. Derek's mind, already tired, broke completely.
With a yell that was just pure anger without thought, he put every bit of his leftover power into his artifact.
The red glow around him grew huge, and he threw himself at Dante, his big sword moving so fast with intent to kill, not caring about anything else. It was his last, everything-or-nothing move.
And Dante was set for it.
"Now," he said quietly.
His puppets, who had been spread out, came back together for one planned attack. It was the same kind of deadly teamwork Derek had once led, now used on him.
The shadow of the Graviton user made a move, and the ground under Derek's feet got as heavy as metal, slowing his run to a slow walk.
The shadow of the Phantasmist moved its hands, and twelve ghost copies of Dante showed up, all around Derek, each one showing the same calm, cool face.
Derek tripped and stopped, caught up all by himself. He swung hard at the fake images, his moves slow, his yells turning into scared, choking sounds.
Dante walked past the ghost copies of himself until he was right in front of him. He didn't need a sword or anything.
He just made his hand into a fist.
Derek looked up at him, his eyes showing something Dante hadn't seen before. Fear. Real, complete fear.
Dante hit his fist hard into Derek's stomach.
THUD.
The punch wasn't to kill, but to crush him inside. The air came out of his lungs in a hurt rush.
The red glow of his artifact stopped and went out. The big sword, his sign of strength, fell from his weak hands and hit the ground loud.
Clang.
Derek, the big and scary leader, fell to his knees, beaten, shamed, and trying to breathe at Dante's feet.
He was circled by the ghosts of the men who had died because of him, their quiet, violet eyes the only ones watching.
The team stood back and watched, their faces showing surprise, relief, and a new, strong fear of the power Dante had now.