Right in front of the Embinyu Church’s fortress, the ground where the alliance tribes and the
savages had been fighting was splitting apart. Weed extended his two arms widely.
“He’s finally coming!”
He sincerely welcomed the first monster summoned by the Power of the Deliverer.
“Come quickly!”
A skeleton wearing a robe slowly rose from the crack in the ground.
The leader of the Immortal Legion. The worst Necromancer, who had probed into forbidden
domain; it was the appearance of Balkan Demoph.
* * *
Balkan did not know of forgiveness or mercy. If the Embinyu Church didn’t spare method or
means for domination and propagation, then Balkan was an entirely different being.
Subordinate to the power of darkness, he did not tolerate any living beings. A fierce hatred
for the living!
A frigid chill emanated from his appearance alone. A monster of the highest rank, just his
appearance made the battlefield’s atmosphere sink low. An overwhelming atmosphere
rushing in like a great storm.
Weed carefully observed Balkan’s appearance. An old lich with rotting bones. From his
appearance, he didn’t differ much from Lich Shire, who had been his disciple. He was slightly
taller and his jawbone looked thicker, but Weed, who had personally faced Shire, could only
distinguish tiny differences.
“You can really say he’s a truly rich Lich.”
Lich Balkan wore high-class attire. A bleak, black aura was flowing from his body. Made out
of extremely good-quality material but shoddy because it looked like it had been used for
over a hundred years, the robe would look as good as new with a little mending.
“All luxury goods are originally like that.”
He wore a crown adorned with gems somewhere atop his head. The duck egg-sized gems
embedded in the crown sparkled with light. There was an eagle’s skull attached to the staff
he was holding. The combination of crown and skull matched Balkan perfectly.
Even from a single glance, he could tell they were Unique items. Lich Shire had also been
equipped with incredible items, but his master one-upped him.
“Magician families have a lot of money after all. But...”
There was one weapon in particular that drew Weed’s gaze. A sword penetrating Balkan’s
chest! It was the only place the black aura could not cover.
Weed speculated, “Looks like the sword was stabbed in during the Versailles Continent war.”
Based on the design on the sword hilt, he guessed it was the relic of the Church of Lu.
It seemed the holy sword was restricting Balkan’s tremendous black magic. Balkan was in the
state of an incomplete resurrection!
“Did I bring a reject?”
While Weed was worrying a little, the alliance tribes were overcome by Balkan’s charisma and
were fleeing with their tails turned.
Hidden behind the rocky mountain, Weed scrutinized the battlefield. The alliance tribes had
now fully retreated.
Balkan’s gaze turned towards the nearby savages, “Worms. For the likes of you to have
flowing blood and breath, I cannot believe it.”
Balkan did not ask who they were. With an extremely unparalleled, arrogant manner, he
extended one hand towards the savages around him.
“Thunder Storm!”
CRA-CRA-CRA-CRA-CRAASH!
Black clouds rushed in, and countless bolts of lightning plummeted towards the savages.
The bodies of the savages, who were once living beings, simply exploded. With almost no
magic resistance, the savages were being massacred.