"You've already led me in circles three times in this area. Do you really think I wouldn't notice?"
The old king rested his greatsword on the skeleton soldier controlled by Hel, a look that clearly said: if you don't give me an explanation, I'll cut you down.
Hel was rather helpless. Who would have thought that this old fellow, even in undeath, could still run so fast?
If she hadn't deliberately kept him nearby while circling around, her dispatched little archmage would have been long lost.
Even so, they had already crossed nearly half of the Free Nation, approaching the ruined Watchtower Wall.
Yet, the old king remained deeply suspicious of Hel from the start.
Just because Hel had led him in a few extra circles, he now drew his sword against her.
"Calm down, old King Frey," Hel said, lightly pushing the sword tip away from her spine, since the skeleton soldier couldn't withstand even a casual strike from him.
"All along this path, I've helped you dodge countless pursuers. I don't expect you to trust me completely in such a short time, but if we're going to cooperate, there should at least be some trust between us."
"Enough talk. We're almost at the Watchtower Wall. Why should I continue to cooperate with you? So…"
The old king's stiff expression twisted into a grim smile. He swung his greatsword again, pressing it toward the skeleton soldier's neck.
"Our cooperation ends here."
With one clean strike, the skeleton soldier was destroyed. The old king was about to leave when another skeleton soldier approached.
"Seems you're really impatient. Didn't you consider why I made you walk in circles like this?"
"I have no need to know! Just a petty, scheming rat—your being useful to me is your honor. Do you really think I'd cooperate with you?"
The old king looked down on the approaching skeleton soldier, casually releasing a wave of sword energy and shattering it.
Just as he was about to move again, the sound of hooves came from afar.
This stopped the old king, who had intended to fly straight past the Watchtower Wall. He narrowed his eyes at a group of riders charging toward the Wall.
"What is this…"
"That's the army you fought before. They've been busy clearing undead in the Free Nation, so they arrived late."
"So, you led me in circles just to trap me?"
The old king turned to a newly arrived skeleton soldier but did not strike. His expression darkened.
"Otherwise, I would have reached the Orc territories long ago."
"Not exactly. I've helped you dodge a few pursuers along the way."
The skeleton soldier shrugged, not denying the king's suspicion.
"So, who are you—or rather, your organization? I don't believe you went to all this trouble just to have me killed by the Empire's army."
"I told you from the start, we are comrades."
"You're trying to recruit me?"
The old king finally understood her intention.
Originally, he had planned to escape to the Orc territories and continue cooperating with the Supreme Church.
But this person clearly was not affiliated with the Supreme Church. She was likely part of an illegal human-empire organization, oppressed and suffocating under the Inquisition. Such small groups, besides the God-Welcoming Assembly that split from the Supreme Church, had no future—a bunch of sewer rats.
Yet, under the current circumstances, if the old king wanted to survive, he had no choice but to feign cooperation.
"I need to know exactly who you are."
"I told you before, didn't I?"
"No."
The old king gritted his teeth. He suspected she was stalling, though he could not understand why she would bother.
Meanwhile, Little Archmage No. 4 panted heavily, rushing toward them.
Previously, Little Archmage No. 3 had been left far behind by the old king, so Hel had dispatched another from Heim territory—the fourth little archmage.
Still, there was a distance, so Hel could only use the skeleton soldiers to stall and push the archmage forward.
After a long discussion about corporate culture and benefits—so long that the old king wanted to attack the skeleton soldier again—Little Archmage No. 4 finally arrived.
"So after all that dithering, you send a mere fourth-tier skeleton?"
The old king had already detected the new archmage's presence but was confident that a fourth-tier skeleton could not harm him.
"So you do have another purpose, after all."
"You noticed?"
Hel's skeleton grinned eerily. There was no need for further pretense—they were now generals.
"Do not move!"
The little archmage shouted from afar. Because a part of Hel's soul resided within the archmage, a fragment of Death Divinity descended into this space.
For any non-Saint-tier undead, Little Archmage No. 4 now had absolute authority.
"What is this…"
The old king felt his body move against his will. His face turned pale.
He suddenly recalled unpleasant memories—of a witch who had once tried to infiltrate the Free Nation's treasury, accidentally breaking the seal on the Underworld Witch, releasing her after 300 years, and causing the nation to fall.
"It's you… you're still alive? The Underworld Lady didn't kill you?"