"This… are those beastmen?"
The legion commander shouted furiously, extending his left hand to draw a short gun from his waist and aimed at the figure attempting the sneak attack.
At that moment, the old King's battle aura surged violently.
Gripping his twin swords, he swung them forcefully at the commander's spear.
With a thunderous crash, elemental energy erupted uncontrollably at the point of contact, spreading in all directions.
The city walls beneath them were the first to be obliterated by this violent energy, followed by the undead inside the city.
Even the imperial army, stationed farther away, suffered significant casualties from the energy wave.
"You truly deserve to die!"
The knight commander roared, bracing himself to fend off the twin attacks.
He waved his hand, pulling magical scrolls from his spatial ring one after another — second, third, fourth — seemingly endless.
The quality of these scrolls was impressive.
Released consecutively, the entire sky lit up in dazzling colors.
Even a Tier Six King-ranked powerhouse could not withstand this onslaught.
Watching through the eyes of her reconnaissance undead flies, Hel twitched at the spectacle.
She recalled what old Sebas had told her:
"Each of the three great empires has its own fighting specialty. The Knight Empire has knightly secret arts, the Magic Empire relies on forbidden magic, and the Federal Empire… has nothing but money."
It seemed this saying was entirely accurate.
The Ymir Empire's supernaturals literally fought by throwing money at the problem.
"Looks like there's no suspense here," Hel muttered.
As expected, the entire ruins of the capital were reduced to rubble.
All the undead within were utterly destroyed.
The sneaky beastman attacking earlier was killed on the spot.
The old King, however, severely injured, tore open a spatial scroll from his ring and escaped — but not far.
He fled to a forest about a hundred miles west of the capital — precisely where Hel's undead, used to construct her soul network, spotted him.
Seeing this, Hel used that undead to observe him for a while.
She also glanced at the imperial forces still clearing the remaining undead in the city,
and at the legion commander, standing atop the last fragment of the ruined wall, lamenting the magical scrolls he had just expended.
Quietly, she began sneaking toward the old King's position.
…
After narrowly escaping using the spatial scroll, the old King retrieved a small vial of bubbling black liquid from his spatial ring.
He opened his already decaying mouth and drank it all.
Instantly, his grievously wounded, rotting body began to heal rapidly.
Within moments, he had returned to his original form — though his skin remained pale, he appeared no different from a normal human.
"Damn it… I knew the Empire's people were rich, but I didn't expect them to be this rich.
Twenty Tier Six magical scrolls in a single throw… not even blinking.
Unbelievable. I have to get out of here. This place is not safe."
Just as he prepared to flee, a rustling sound came from the grass behind him.
Instinctively, he gripped his greatswords and shouted:
"Who's there? Show yourself!"
A surge of battle aura enveloped his swords as he assumed a defensive stance.
"Don't worry, King Frey."
The bushes parted, revealing a seemingly ordinary skeleton soldier.
The old King relaxed slightly, but did not lower the aura on his swords.
He scrutinized the skeleton carefully, knowing that as a first-tier undead, it could not possibly be intelligent or capable of psychic communication.
Someone much stronger must be behind it.
"Who are you?"
"Didn't you already guess, seeing the body I inhabit?"
"The Supreme Church… the Death Followers?"
The old King carefully examined Hel's skeletal body, still uncertain.
Hel smiled but said nothing — knowing too little, speaking could be risky.
She diverted the topic:
"You don't need to know who I am. Just know that we are not enemies."
"Really? If you want my trust, at least show me your true body," he demanded.
Raising his twin greatswords, he struck toward Hel's skeletal vessel.
"Are you sure you want to fight me here? The imperial forces aren't just this one army."
"What do you mean?"
"The northwest and southwest of Freedom each have a knight order sweeping the undead in your territory.
While we were fighting, they've already begun surrounding this area.
Add that to the reinforcements behind you… escaping won't be easy."
The old King's greatswords froze just above the skeleton's neck, the battle aura causing the skeleton's bones to creak.
It wobbled slightly, as if it might collapse — but it held firm.
"What do you want?"
"Just a little help for a friend," the skeleton replied with a creaking grin.
"Fine. I'll trust you this once. How do you intend to get me out of here?"
"Simple. I'll lead you around the pursuing forces."
The old King gave her skeletal vessel a long, deep look, but said nothing further, letting it guide the way.
Hundreds of miles behind, Hel's little mage apprentice dashed desperately through the wilderness, puffing and panting, muttering:
"These spatial scrolls are so far… how long do I have to run?"