Ludwig needed to help his master. So far, he had felt it, he has been nothing but nuisance. Barely of any use to his master. While Van Dijk was carrying the weight of this whole ordeal. This whole excursion was just to find out information about the creature that had plagued Van Dijk’s nightmares. But little that Ludwig knew, Van Dijk was more than proud of the progress of his disciple.
Maleficent sigils spread from Ludwig’s hand, crawling across the ground like dark veins. They enveloped the corpses, the air growing heavy with the stench of decay and the faint hum of necromantic energy. But the process was not without its challenges.
[You’re about to raise a relatively powerful entity!]
[Fail! Your wisdom level is too low to raise {Guard of Tibari}]
Ludwig cursed under his breath. His wisdom was insufficient, and he only had twelve souls left in his lantern. But then he remembered the corrupted souls he had obtained from the crocodile and the Sheikh—each worth 200 souls—and the two weaker souls of 100 each. It was a gamble, but he had no other choice.
“Use two corrupted Souls! Use two weak souls!” he commanded, his voice tinged with desperation.
[You have obtained 600 souls!]
“Increase wisdom by 20!” Ludwig barked
[-250 Souls! You have 362 souls left!]
[Your Soul level increased by 2!]
With his wisdom bolstered, Ludwig tried again. “Rise Undead!” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the ground. The sigils flared to life once more, their dark energy surging into the corpses.
[Danger! The possibility to raise the Guard of Tibari has increased, but due to your lacking charisma, you will be attacked on sight!]
Ludwig groaned. “God damn it, fine! Increase Charisma by 20!”
[-290 Souls, you have 72 Souls left]
[Your soul level increased by 2.]
“Rise Undead!” Ludwig commanded again, his voice firm. The sigils spread once more, and this time, the process succeeded.
[You are about to raise a powerful undead!]
[Your wisdom level is lacking]
[Rise Undead has succeeded!]
[Your charisma level is too low to fully control the summoned undead! But minor orders can be accepted]
“Good enough for me!” Ludwig said, watching as the two corpses stirred. The slime that had animated them was gone, replaced by bones and rotting flesh. The guards rose unsteadily, their armor creaking as they moved. Ludwig pointed toward the gate, his voice sharp. “You, Knight! Kill!”
But the two soldiers ignored his orders, their hollow eyes staring blankly ahead. “For fuck’s sake! If only I could use them to help master!” Ludwig cursed, frustration boiling over. He had wasted precious time and souls, and now he was no closer to aiding Van Dijk.
Just as he was about to give up, the book at his side—the Umbra Malvolume Codex Necros—flew open of its own accord. The straps snapped loudly, and the pages fluttered as a powerful vortex erupted from within. The two guards were sucked into the book, their forms dissolving into shadowy energy.
Ludwig stared in shock. He hadn’t commanded the book to act, yet it had acted on its own.
[The Umbra Malvolume Codex Necros has been bound to you!]
“Shit, I didn’t want to do this yet!” Ludwig cursed, he had yet to understand the book’s abilities and details but it just simply did whatever it wanted.
[You have obtained a Mythical Item!]
[You have obtained the title: Myth Holder]
[Due to the presence of a stronger title, {He who holds the Power of the Gods}, the bonus from Myth Holder has been converted to better suit the holder.]
[+20 Charisma!]
“Okay, that’s pretty useful,” Ludwig muttered, though he was still annoyed by the book’s forceful binding. But there was no time to dwell on it.
He needed to help Van Dijk.
Rushing back through the gate, Ludwig found his master locked in a fierce battle with the Knight King. The tide had turned—where Van Dijk had once dominated, he was now on the defensive. The Knight King shrugged off his attacks with ease, and Van Dijk’s blood magic was rendered useless.
Van Dijk noticed Ludwig was back, a sigh of relief escaped his mouth, and he looked less tensed.
“You’re fine! Good, but be careful—he’s able to absorb spells now. I can’t even use my blood anymore!” Van Dijk shouted, his frustration evident. For a blood mage, being unable to use his blood was like a swordsman losing his arms.
“Burn!” Van Dijk commanded, summoning a torrent of black flames that surged toward the Knight King. But the king simply sliced through the flames with his sword, dissipating them effortlessly.
“And as you can see, he’s very strong against mage types!” Van Dijk cursed, his voice strained.
“How about against physical attacks? Get out and fight!” Ludwig waved his hand, summoning the book once more. “[Necrotic Apparition]!” he shouted.
From the book emerged the two guards he had raised earlier, but they were transformed. Their armor was now veiled in a shadowy aura, their eyes glowing a bright, unnatural blue. Their weapons and shields were no longer broken and cracked but polished and fully repaired. They moved with a speed and precision that defied their undead nature, sprinting toward the Knight King with deadly intent.
The Knight King’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the soldiers. “You dare take my people into undeath!” he roared, his voice filled with fury. He swung his sword with devastating force, slamming it into the first guard. The undead soldier tried to block, but the sheer power of the blow sent him flying to the side.
The second guard, undeterred, stabbed his sword into the back of the Knight King. There was no allegiance to royalty for these undead—their loyalty belonged solely to the owner of the book. Their glowing eyes were focused, their movements precise. Their task was simple: kill the enemy and leave nothing behind.
And thanks to the additional charisma, and whatever the book had done to the undead, they seemed to be more willing to accept orders. The flow of battle was about to change.