How come this arcanist is invincible?

Chapter 42 Necromancer

The city guard consisted of about ten men, all clad in armor, and their ranks were impeccably orderly.

Kane glanced around and quickly took in the team's formation.

The front row consisted of heavily armored warriors with shields, while the middle row featured lightly armored crossbowmen and lightly armored soldiers.

Such a force configuration is undoubtedly in preparation for war.

Once the battle begins.

The heavily armored warriors in the front row focused on defense, the lightly armored soldiers protected the flanks, and the crossbowmen in the rear row could fire arrows without any worries.

Ordinary adventurer teams are powerless to resist and will only be slaughtered in one fell swoop.

Kane's gaze quickly locked onto the two players at the very front of the group.

Their armor was thicker and more ornate.

He is clearly a warrior, just like his teammate Braden.

But what stirred something in him was that the insignia on the two men's armor were completely different.

One man's armor bore the Night's Watch emblem, while the other's bore the emblem of a sword and shield.

"Can't you figure out the relationship between the Night's Watch and the City Guard?"

Sienna's voice rang close to his ear.

"You can think of us as... military inspectors."

Kane immediately understood; it meant the military supervisor.

No wonder the two of them, though standing close together, have such distinct auras.

But thinking about it, it makes sense.

If the City Guard were truly under the direct command of the Night's Watch, then the organization's power would be far too terrifying.

It has probably already crossed the line of royal authority.

At that moment, a blond man with a sword and shield emblem stepped forward.

His face was arrogant, and his chin was slightly raised.

He glanced at the three corpses on the ground, then at the Dead Apostle ring on Kane's hand, before turning to Reed:

"There are still passages that haven't been explored, and the remaining criminals may be inside those passages."

"Send one of your Dead Men down to scout ahead; that's his job."

"No, he has other important business to attend to."

Reed coldly refused.

The blond man chuckled, his voice suddenly rising so that the surrounding soldiers could hear him:

"So the Night's Watch lives are more valuable, and we city guards deserve to die?"

These words were clearly provocative, and Reed couldn't help but frown.

Kane stood to the side, silent.

In this situation, he, as a "die-hard disciple," had no right to interrupt.

Seeing this, the blond man threw out another chip:

"I'll compromise and send three soldiers with him."

"But your Dead Apostles must go first."

Reed hesitated.

Even the Night's Watch soldier stepped forward and whispered a few words in his ear.

Seeing the difficulty in Reed's eyes, Kane stepped forward and lowered his voice, saying:

"Let me go."

Reed gave him a deep look and sighed softly:

Be careful.

A faint smile appeared on Kane's lips:

"After the mission is completed, I want to choose that first-level spellbook myself."

Reed was slightly taken aback.

When he looked up again, Kane had already turned around and stepped into the dark tunnel with three city guards who had received orders.

His immortality made him fearless.

The three soldiers were all wearing light armor and carrying torches.

He had a one-handed sword and a small round shield hanging at his waist, and a light crossbow slung over his back.

This was clearly designed to adapt to the narrow terrain inside the tunnel.

The air in the dark tunnel was damp and cold.

The flickering flames of the torches cast long, thin shadows of the crowd.

Kane stared at the dark tunnel, and for a moment, he was reminded of the Demon Cult's mountain stronghold.

The three soldiers were very nervous, their steps trembling, and they kept glancing at Kane.

Kane knew that none of the three were professionals, so he took the initiative to speak:

"Stay close to me."

The three soldiers nodded hurriedly and gripped their torches tightly.

……

The corridor seemed to have no end.

I don't know how long it took.

Kane suddenly stopped and frowned.

A strong, putrid stench wafted over.

After the fork in the road ahead, there was a secret room even larger than the cellar of the Rusty Hand.

It was already completely empty inside.

Only on the four stone walls, dark red bloodstains remained, mottled and crisscrossed, long since dried and blackened.

The bloodstains were winding and twisting, like some kind of eerie ritual, or like the struggle of a dying person.

Kane's heart sank.

In the material plane where the gods have retreated, paladins and priests have long since fallen into obscurity.

The flesh and organs of ordinary people have long been used as materials by many professionals.

They were put on the black market and priced in gold coins.

He suppressed the surging emotions in his heart, gripped the dagger at his waist, and continued deeper into the corridor.

After walking a few steps, he kicked something hard.

Looking down, I saw more than a dozen desiccated corpses lying haphazardly on the ground.

The corpse was curled up in a ball, its face twisted and hideous, and its limbs bent at bizarre angles.

It was clear that he had endured unimaginable suffering before his death and had been dead for many days.

Kane remained unfazed and stepped over a dried-up corpse.

The three soldiers behind him gritted their teeth and followed.

"what!"

Just then, a piercing scream suddenly broke the silence!

Kane turned around abruptly, his pupils contracting sharply.

A dried-up corpse that should have been lying on the ground had somehow stood up.

It was biting a soldier's neck tightly.

Dark green venom was seeping from between his white teeth, trickling down his neck.

"Help...help me!"

The soldier's eyes were wide open, almost bulging out of their sockets, his face filled with extreme fear.

A hoarse, mournful sound came from his throat.

Before he could finish speaking, he foamed at the mouth and collapsed.

The torch in his hand was smashed to the ground with a "clatter," and the flame was extinguished instantly.

The remaining two soldiers were terrified and wildly swung their one-handed swords.

But fear had already made them weak in the knees.

The sword slashed down, but only managed to strike the dried-up corpse's arm.

It didn't even break the bone, leaving only a shallow bloodstain.

A faint, eerie green light flashed in the hollow eye sockets of the dried corpse.

One of the soldiers was so startled that his hand trembled, the torch slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground, extinguishing the flame once again.

Three torches, and in the blink of an eye, only one remained.

"Come closer to me!"

Kane gave a low shout.

Inside the tunnel, light is the lifeblood.

Losing all the torches is tantamount to handing over all initiative to the enemy.

With a flick of his wrist, a dagger shot out from the air.

Under the mage's precise control, the dagger flashed like a cold light, piercing straight into the mummy's head!

With a "thud," the dagger sank into the skull.

But the dried corpse only swayed and did not fall down.

Instead, it let out a hoarse growl and turned to pounce on the soldier beside the torch!

Kane's eyes sharpened, and he quickly stepped forward.

He picked up the one-handed sword dropped by the soldier on the ground and swung it down at the dried corpse!

With a flash of cold light, the desiccated corpse's head rolled off and tumbled to the soldier's feet.

The headless corpse froze for a moment, then collapsed to the ground with a thud.

First-circle spell, Lesser Animation of the Dead.

The word flashed through Kane's mind in an instant.

He remembered clearly that the maximum distance at which this spell could be manipulated was sixty feet.

That is, eighteen meters.

That first-tier necromancer Flynn must be hiding in the shadows not far ahead.

Should we delve deeper?

Kane paused slightly, weighing his options in his mind.

If a professional's corpse is manipulated...

"Should we retreat?"

"A soldier said in a trembling voice, looking at Kane with pleading eyes."

Kane frowned, looking into the thick, impenetrable darkness deep within the tunnel.

This tunnel is narrow and winding; venturing too far into it could very well lead to an ambush.

If you accidentally reveal your immortality and the opponent escapes, then you'll be in big trouble.

Upon reaching this point, he suppressed his desire for the first-level spell.

He turned to the two soldiers who were already trembling, and said in a deep voice:

"Retreat first, then report the situation."

The two soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, one of them carried his comrade's body on his back, and the three of them slowly retreated.

Kane, wielding a one-handed sword, stood guard at the edge of the torchlight, covering the rear.

The return journey was even slower than the way there.

Until the faint light coming through the cave entrance caught my eye.

The two soldiers finally collapsed and let out a long sigh of relief.

……

And just as their footsteps completely disappeared outside the tunnel.

From the shadows deep within the tunnel, a hunched figure slowly emerged.

It was a man wearing a tattered black robe.

His face was thin and sallow, his eyes were sunken, and there was even a faint layer of fine scales covering the corners of his eyes.

It reeked of a nauseating, putrid stench.

It was none other than the necromancer Flynn.

As he watched the firelight disappear from the cave entrance, Flynn's lips curled into a sinister smile.

He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse like a broken gong:

"Thank goodness they didn't come down to their deaths..."

"Father, Mother, I thought I would see you tear those fools to shreds."

As soon as he finished speaking, a series of faint footsteps, which could not possibly be made by a human, came from the deeper darkness.

Those were two Quassa demons.

The bat's wings were folded together on either side of its lean back, and its long tail dragged on the ground, making a sticky sound.

It is about the size of a hound, with long, slender limbs.

But these are abyssal demons with erratic and brutal personalities.

However, a barely perceptible fear was hidden in his eyes as he looked at Flynn.