Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Chapter 159: A Dance with the Dead



Unaware of Karna's meeting with the queen of magic, Adam's jaw clenched in the crypt's chill.

His eyes, two swirling chaotic pools melding frustration, fear, and hope, scanned the surroundings. Yet, he cursed under his breath as he saw the groove he had carved on the wall once more.

He covered his ears, a stone flying into the fog.

"And those wails are becoming worse than hauntings." He shook his head, his shoulders trembling as he roared. "Shut up! I'd rather try to leave a hundred times than explore this place without Karna or my army!"

He exhaled through the stale, chilly air and patted his drumming chest in a vain attempt to calm it down while a pensive frown creased his brows.

"Am I trapped in an illusion? If I'm, why didn't Karna free me?" He bit his trembling lips, his voice cracking. "I don't know where you are, but I hope you're fine."

His fists tightened, a steely glint flashing in his eyes as he remembered Shadow's report.

'He never mentioned illusions, only open tombs, walking skeletons, and... ghosts. I don't know what caused the change, but I can't remain passive.' His head snapped to the winding corridor leading deeper into the crypt, and his brows twitched. 'I'm doomed if he's wrong about their strength.'

Sword in hand, he stopped counting the number of times he ended up in the same spot while pondering, and engulfed himself in the crypt.

The muffled sound of his boots echoed through the silent passage, disturbed only by the occasional water drip from the ceiling. Ominous dark torches lined the walls, casting dancing shadows on his tensed jaw.

Eyes squinted on the rotten moss thriving through the cracked slabs, he spotted two pairs of immobile shin bones. Trailing up, they registered the oversized greaves protecting their pelvis.

Above them, rusted chainmail glinted over their exposed rib cages in a show of disturbing horror that forced a gulp down his throat.

But since he spotted them, they did, too.

Dark flames ignited in their empty eye sockets as their skeletal hands raised two tower shields before them. Ragged red capes fluttered and spears aimed at him glinted through the gap.

Their ivory teeth chattered as if to speak, yet without muscles and vocal cords, only a dreadful cackling reverberated in his throbbing ears.

He inhaled sharply, the fear in his eyes igniting into a defiant resolve to prevail at any cost.

Without hesitation, he stomped on the ground. The wind whistled, and dust swirled behind his blurring figure as he split the wind in a relentless and unstoppable charge like Achilles'.

Hair swirling behind him, he penetrated the skeletons' range in the blink of an eye. Yet, his speed didn't take them off guard.

On the contrary, he saw them shove their spears at him, two merciless impaling blows aimed at his head and heart. But his eyes remained steady and his heart didn't hasten. Instead, a whoosh burst against his ears as he launched himself and spun gracefully between their weapons. Find your next read at empire

Despite his breach, he saw them react instantly.

Like a single undead, they shoved their shields, the withered engravings zooming in his eyes to shatter his body.

With no space to dodge, his face should have collapsed, and his heart crumbled in distress, but not when Achilles' teaching reverberated through his mind.

"No space dodge? Nonsense! Use your brain and reflexes to create it."

A confident smirk stretched his lips as he shoved his right foot onto the fierce wall collapsing on him.

CLANG

The collision reverberated through the passage, dust melding with the surrounding fog.

Faced with the groaning iron, his leg bent, yet his eyes sparkled.

"I see plenty of space above!"

With his scream, he pushed on their shields, using them as springboards to flip in the air. Still, the momentum forced him back, something he didn't want. That's why he had roughly calculated the angle beforehand.

Propelled towards the wall and about to crash on it, he strained his muscles and forced his legs to land on it first.

Then, chaotic, demonic energy wafted from his eyes, a show as threatening as the flames flickering in the skeleton's sockets as he propelled himself again. Like a tiger pouncing on its prey, his body blurred and his weapons glinted like sharp fangs.

With a ruthless swing, his abyssal and silver blade drew two luminous arcs through the air. Precise and lethal, they collided with his adversaries' vertebrae.

CRACK

His hands trembled upon impact as loud crunches accompanied their splintering necks. The shock spread, causing their bones to chatter as their skulls flew above his solemn face.

"There is no fairness in combat. Even the dirtiest trick is a clever strategy, so never drop your guard before ensuring your enemy is a stiff corpse."

He repeated Achilles' words as his blades cleaved through the air. Each strike aimed to pierce, slice, or shatter a vital area, creating a deadly dance of steel and death.

In the blink of an eye, he reduced their bodies into piles of bones and shattered their skulls into a sea of yellowed fragments, ensuring they would find eternal peace.

Then, he exhaled a mouthful of vapor and the rage of combat with it.

Simultaneously, a kill notification echoed in his ears.

A brow raised in intrigue, he opened his interface to confirm his opponents' levels. After all, they followed his movements and their bones endured his kick, meaning they couldn't be weaker than him.

[You have defeated two tier-four level 45 undeads: fallen soldiers of Elden. You have gained 550 experience points.]

His hand rose on his heaving chest, a relieved sigh uncontrollably escaping his throat.

"At least Shadow's report was accurate. I can manage as long as they're fighters." He tucked his fingers around his chin, frowning. "But the ones with special abilities will be troublesome, not to mention the boss." His voice wavered as he massaged his temples. "I don't know if I can take on a tier-five undead alone. After all, I can't burn his skin or bleed him to death..."

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