With chilling indifference, the Phantom Assassin signaled his three remaining subordinates to finish their task. They moved swiftly, dark shadows flitting through the wreckage, converging on a predetermined point. A complex magic circle, inscribed with ancient, arcane sigils, began to materialize on the cathedral's shattered stone floor. Its faint, ethereal light seemed to devour the last vestiges of illumination. As the circle neared completion, the Phantom Assassin decisively waved his hand. The grey, illusory mist, which had concealed a portion of the horrific truth within the cathedral, slowly dissipated. The desolate, ruined landscape of Estath Cathedral was fully revealed to those outside. They could also feel the suffocating aura of the two Rank 6s who had just engaged in a life-or-death struggle. Simultaneously, elsewhere in East Aerion, General Zalogr and Chief Investigator Ragley, two of the city's three most powerful individuals, were striving to suppress the frenzied monster attacks while coordinating the remaining military and Bureau forces. Suddenly, they sensed the abrupt shift in energy from the direction of Estath Cathedral. They knew the worst might have happened. Ralph… had perhaps fallen. Without a moment's hesitation, Zalogr let out a heaven-shaking roar, his entire body flashing with blue-violet lightning. He channeled all his lightning power to increase his speed, hurtling toward the cathedral like a silver arrow. When he was less than three hundred meters from the sacred edifice, the scene before him constricted the seasoned general's heart. Five strangers, all clad in black, stood amidst the ruins. Among them, one equipped in angular, jet-black armor, and another in a crimson robe stained with blood, exuded auras significantly more potent and malevolent than the other three. Beside them, a dense, grey-black fog, like a demonic casket, was slowly forming, seemingly containing something of immense importance. They stood there, within a nearly completed teleportation magic circle, preparing to depart. "Bastards!" Zalogr roared in fury. "Thunderbolt" A destructive lightning bolt, carrying all the general's wrath, descended from the heavens directly upon the five strangers. "Impressive! Less than five seconds and you've already sniffed your way here. Not bad." The Phantom Assassin, the one in jet-black armor, smirked, utterly unfazed by Zalogr's attack. He casually raised his two black daggers, dark aura condensing around their blades. "Black Slash!" Two crescent-shaped dark slashes, carrying the power to tear space itself, shot from the daggers, intercepting Zalogr's "Thunderbolt." A horrific explosion erupted in mid-air; the impact of the two attacks colliding shook a vast expanse of space violently. Zalogr, though prepared, was momentarily staggered by the aftershock. He still tried to charge through the dense cloud of smoke and dust created by the explosion, hoping to prevent their escape. But when he arrived, all the terrorists had vanished without a trace, and the teleportation magic circle had also extinguished. All that remained was a desolate, ruined Estath Cathedral, injured monks and soldiers lying scattered everywhere, their mournful groans and cries echoing in the terrifyingly silent space. In other battlefields throughout East Aerion, the enemy's high-ranking, the masterminds behind the attacks, also began to receive the signal to withdraw. They employed various methods of teleportation, secret paths, and dark artifacts to quickly disappear from the scenes, leaving behind chaos, death, and extreme terror. Only one location, a place that had seemed safe, was about to witness the most tragic calamity, the bloodiest nightmare in this entire horrifying terrorist event. At Estath Square, where thousands of ordinary civilians were cowering in refuge, where the remaining soldiers and Rankers were trying to maintain a last shred of order, a suffocating silence suddenly descended. All the soldiers on defensive duty there seemed to be suppressed by some invisible force, their bodies immobilized, their breathing becoming difficult, heavy. Present before their eyes, hovering in mid-air, was an entity impossible to describe with words. A high-ranking, perhaps even stronger than the Bloodluster and Phantom Assassin Archbishop Ralph had just faced. The evil aura he radiated was enough to completely overwhelm all living beings present, making them feel as small, as weak as ants before a colossal beast. For Henry and Sophia, the feeling of utter despair, of extreme helplessness, the sensation they had experienced in the life-and-death battle at the Bandit Graveyard, once again surged back, enveloping their minds. Once again, they felt themselves standing at the gates of hell, facing an unavoidable death. "I… I only came here… to observe the results of a few minor experiments…" A hoarse, raspy voice echoed throughout the square, as if transmitted from a distant place, not spoken by the grotesque monster hovering above. Captain Jacobs, still lost in the pain of losing his comrades and his suicidal intent, was suddenly jolted awake by the new threat. He spun around and, with a final burst of remaining strength, swung his bloodstained greatsword forcefully, slashing straight at the monster's neck. Behind him, the remaining mages also reacted in time; they continuously cast their most powerful support spells on Jacobs, while simultaneously using Undead-suppressing spells, attacking the enemy. The Paladins, warriors of light, also charged forward without hesitation, forming a steel wall before the innocent civilians. "Clack!" A dry, cold sound rang out. Captain Jacobs's massive, heavy greatsword, a weapon that had slain countless monsters, was now stopped by the monster with just one gaunt, skeletal hand. He casually waved his other hand towards Jacobs's back, where the Paladins were charging. An invisible wave of dark energy swept past; all the Paladins, strong Rank 3 and Rank 4 warriors, were sent flying like tattered puppets, fresh blood spraying from their mouths.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The monster gripped Jacobs's greatsword. He slowly used the strength of his gaunt, skeletal fingers, pressing hard on the blade. A piercing, gruesome "crack-crack" sound echoed. The greatsword, a weapon forged from the finest steel, was now crushed, cracks spreading like a spiderweb before shattering into tiny fragments. Disarmed, Captain Jacobs did not falter. He roared, concentrating all the remaining aether in his body into his right fist. "Power Fist!" A full-force attack, carrying all the indignation and fighting spirit of a soldier, struck squarely at the monster's chest. But it was also ineffective. He stood there casually, simply using one hand to catch Jacobs's entire anger-fueled fist. He used force once again, squeezing Jacobs's fist hard. The dry, grating sound of shattering bones echoed. The captain's right hand, the hand that had wielded a sword to protect so many, was now just a mangled mess of flesh, skin, and bone intermingled, blood flowing unceasingly. His right arm was likely completely crippled. "Angel Strike!" From behind, an angelic figure of pure light, carrying holy power, flew straight towards the monster's position, a surprising and powerful attack. It was Sophia; she couldn't stand by and watch her captain be tortured like this. It also didn't have much effect. The monster smirked, blocking Sophia's attack with just two skeletal fingers. But that was just a feint. As soon as he parried Sophia's attack, another figure appeared right behind him. Henry, his sword enveloped in a layer of holy light Sophia had just timely imbued, a fatal slash, carrying all his hatred and hope, aimed straight at the monster's back. The blow landed. But… Henry's sharp blade, a weapon that could easily cleave Rank 3 monsters in two, could now only tear through the monster's jet-black cloak, leaving a faint mark on his grey, rock-hard skin. The difference in power was too vast, impossible to overcome. "Quick reflexes, kid," Beleth sneered, his voice now clearer, no longer hoarse and difficult to hear as before. "But your strength is still too weak." He casually waved his hand; an invisible wave of dark energy struck Henry, sending both him and his sword flying far away. Thwack! A sudden sword strike, from an unexpected angle, pierced Beleth's side. The wound wasn't too deep, just enough to make him bleed a little. The attacker was Captain Jacobs. When the Necrofear was distracted by Henry's attack, Sophia had cleverly thrown a short sword towards him. Though he only had one hand, though he was severely injured, a warrior's instinct still helped him seize that fleeting opportunity. It was a pity, however, that he was too gravely wounded, his strength nearly depleted. Furthermore, this monster always maintained an invisible defensive magic layer around its body, rendering his desperate, full-strength thrust unable to inflict a fatal wound. Beleth slowly turned, facing Captain Jacobs. The deadly grey-black mist, which had initially just drifted lazily in the air, now moved with incredible intensity. It swirled monstrous, then condensed into thick chains of mist, enveloping Captain Jacobs's body, slowly lifting him, suspending him in mid-air. "If I were you," Beleth said, his tone savage, cruel, "the moment you ascended to Rank 5, I would have committed suicide without hesitation. You have missed your last chance, your only chance, to die peacefully, a gentle death." He spoke while laughing gleefully, as if he had just thought of an incredibly amusing, cruel joke. Captain Jacobs's limbs, the arms and legs that had fought so bravely, were now tightly constricted by those mist chains, slowly being crushed. Skin, flesh, and bone mingled in a horrifying mess. Only his torso and head remained relatively intact. Beleth continued his cruel game. He used his sharp claws to gouge out one of Jacobs's eyes. The captain's piercing, agonizing screams echoed ceaselessly, tearing through the silent square. Then he used another evil spell, separating Jacobs's brain, which was still functioning, from his skull. Captain Jacobs, the hero of Unit 18, the respected captain, was dead. Dead in agony, pain, and humiliation. The surrounding soldiers and civilians, those he had once protected, now stared blankly, frozen, at the horrifying scene. Fear, panic, and despair enveloped them all. But all were suppressed by the Necrofear's terrifying aura, unable to move, unable to resist. All, now, were just weak lambs, waiting to be cruelly slaughtered. In truth, even if they wanted to flee, they no longer could. The deadly grey-white mist had enveloped the entire square area at some unknown point. If anyone intended to make a move, he would immediately know and deal with them mercilessly. "Now, now, don't be so scared," Beleth said, his tone gentle to the point of being gruesome, as if speaking to old friends. " I spared your lives once at the Bandit Graveyard. I also put in considerable effort to arrange for your captain to ascend to Rank 5 smoothly. Now, I'm just here to harvest a few results from my minor experiments, and to entertain myself a bit after these boring months. Surely that's not too much to ask, is it?" He spoke while smiling gently, tenderly at Jacobs's eye and still-pulsing brain in his hand, as if they were still alive, still able to hear his words, as if what he was doing to Captain Jacobs was a special privilege, a great honor. The deadly grey-black mist surrounding Captain Jacobs's corpse slowly dissipated. His ravaged body, now limbless, fell with a thud onto the cold ground. From within his torn-open chest, black, slimy chunks of flesh began to appear, then a gaunt, blackened, skeletal arm slowly emerged. It used its sharp claws to tear away the remaining flesh on his corpse. The Primal Undead monster, the one that had sown terror at the Bandit Graveyard, appeared once again, right before the eyes of Henry and the survivors. Henry clearly sensed the evil aura it brought. But this time, there was something different, more frightening.

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