The Battle of the Quarry (Part 1)

For Connie, Fang Zheng didn't care at all. He knew full well that she was hurt even worse than he was, and those Holy Knights under Malte weren't very skilled in healing either. In fact, the priest responsible for treatment among their group had already died in the earlier ambush, which was precisely why Malte and his people had fought so bitterly afterward. If Fang Zheng hadn't cast healing on a few of them later, they probably still wouldn't have recovered their combat strength.

Even though Connie had become a problem, regardless, Fang Zheng, Stone, and the others had successfully completed half their mission—they'd found the Holy Knights who were stranded here. Logically, as long as they brought them back, that would settle things. But it seemed that neither Malte nor Stone had any intention of leaving just yet.

Malte knew about the Lich's sinister plan, and while Stone didn't know exactly what had happened here, he'd sensed something was wrong. In fact, when Stone arrived, he, Connie, and Miss M had already discovered the Undead creatures here. Not only that, they'd personally witnessed Undead dragging Holy Knights into the quarry. To find out what these Undead were up to and to rescue his comrades, Stone had chosen to go in alone to investigate. He'd originally told Connie to go back and pass a message to Miss M, so the poor Young Lady wouldn't start worrying needlessly. Who would've thought she'd run into Fang Zheng instead, and then... ah, what a mess this turned out to be!

"We don't have time to waste. That Lich must have sensed something's wrong up top."

As he spoke, Stone shot a displeased glare at Connie and Fang Zheng. Under his gaze, Connie lowered her head without a word, while Fang Zheng just shrugged, putting on an "it's none of my business" expression. Seeing their reactions, Stone rolled his eyes helplessly, then turned his gaze back to Malte.

"What do you think, Malte?"

"..."

Faced with Stone's question, Malte pondered for a moment, then lifted his head to look at Stone again.

"Are you sure my comrades are still alive?"

"They were alive when they were dragged in just now. Now... I can't guarantee it."

"..."

This time, Malte was silent for longer. Then he glanced at the others, seeming to have made up his mind, and spoke.

"Stone, I need your help with something."

"Name it."

"I want you to draw the Lich's attention. Then... we'll find a chance to charge in and see if we can rescue our companions. If we're lucky, we might even be able to crush the Dark Ritual they're trying to complete..."

With that, Malte turned to look at Connie.

"This girl is in your care too. She's badly injured and can't fight. Bringing her along would only be a burden. It's better for her to stay here. If we don't come back, please take her to the temple."

"You..."

Hearing this, Stone was stunned. Even Fang Zheng's eyes went wide as he stared at Malte. He wasn't an idiot; he understood exactly what Malte meant. To an ordinary person, Malte's request might seem cold-hearted, but if you thought about it carefully, you'd realize it put almost no pressure on Stone and Fang Zheng at all!

Because Malte was only asking them to act as bait to draw the Lich's attention. Frankly, that wasn't difficult, and it wasn't very dangerous either. It was Malte and his men who would be walking into the trap. After all, Stone and Fang Zheng just needed to taunt from the perimeter, pull the boss over, and then run. But Malte and his group would have to push deep into the core area. Even though Malte said they were going to rescue their comrades, Stone and Fang Zheng weren't fools. The Lich had gone to so much trouble to perform a Dark Ritual, so the core area was bound to be fraught with danger. Malte and the others claimed they wanted to disrupt the plan and save people, but it was easy to guess they almost certainly wouldn't be coming back.

Fang Zheng furrowed his brow, but glancing at Stone beside him, he didn't say anything. Honestly, Malte and his men truly lived up to the title of Holy Knights. Frankly, he couldn't bear to watch them go to their deaths, but Malte had clearly made up his mind, and Stone didn't seem inclined to stop him, so Fang Zheng kept his mouth shut.

"...Alright."

Finally, Stone let out a long sigh.

"Malte, come back alive. I'm still waiting for you to buy me a drink."

"Don't worry. I won't die that easily."

With that, Malte smiled and waved at Fang Zheng and Miss M, then turned and led his companions away. Watching Malte's retreating back, Fang Zheng was utterly speechless... Your death flag is three meters tall, Great Knight Malte. How am I supposed to save you? And Stone, you're pretty quick to plant flags yourself—can't you show some mercy to your own comrade? Don't you know the saying, "Leave some leeway, and you'll meet again down the road"? With flags planted like that, wouldn't it be a disservice to him if he didn't die?

"Alright, let's move too."

Stone, of course, had no idea what Fang Zheng was muttering behind his back. He quietly watched Malte's figure disappear, then turned to face Fang Zheng.

"You know the drill. Our job is to draw that Lich's attention. Lucky for us, you and that girl were fighting like crazy just now, so the Lich has probably already sensed something's wrong up top. Now we just need to drag that Lich out and keep it too busy to worry about anything else."

"Drag it out? How?"

Hearing Stone's orders, Fang Zheng was taken aback, staring at his mentor in surprise. Honestly, after spending so much time with Stone, Fang Zheng felt he had a pretty good read on him. In his view, this Great Knight was more of a frontline commander, not one for strategy and planning. That was why, upon hearing Stone's command, Fang Zheng immediately got a very bad feeling.

In response to Fang Zheng's question, Stone clenched his fists, flashed him a bright grin, and said cheerfully.

"By charging straight in, of course!!"

"..."

For the first time, Fang Zheng wondered if he should find a new mentor... Maybe Malte wouldn't be a bad choice?

At that moment, deep in the pitch-black, shadowy depths of the quarry, a completely different scene was unfolding.

Inside a vast underground cavern, flickering blue flames swayed and burned. At the center of the cavern, a blood-drawn magic circle shimmered with a faint glow. Hovering directly above the circle, a Lich wrapped in a black robe lifted its head. In its hollow eye sockets, crimson light flickered intermittently. Then, the Lich looked at the Skeleton Soldiers beside it and issued a low command.

"You, go see what's happening outside."

Hearing the Lich's order, the fully armed Skeleton Soldiers bowed respectfully, then turned and marched away in unison. In life, they had been brave warriors, but now these soldiers had become undead slaves. Their souls could find no rest, forced to submit helplessly to the power of darkness and death.

Yes, darkness and death—that was the true essence of this world.

At that thought, the crimson flame in the Lich's eye sockets suddenly leaped, and it issued another command.

"Bring the sacrifice up."

Soon, following the Lich's order, two towering Undead Giants dragged a Holy Knight forward. The Holy Knight looked young, badly wounded, and utterly exhausted. He glared fiercely at the Lich, his eyes blazing with furious fire.

"You cursed Undead creature! Your schemes will not succeed! Everything you do will face the righteous judgment of justice!"

"How tiresome."

Hearing the young knight's words, the Lich snorted dismissively. It raised a hand and pointed a finger at the young knight. Instantly, a beam of pitch-black light shot from the Lich's fingertip and struck the young knight's chest.

"Ah... ah...!"

Struck by the black beam, the young knight's face turned pale. He opened his mouth and let out a pained wail, his body trembling uncontrollably. Then, bright red blood gushed like a waterfall from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. The young knight seemed to be suffering immense agony. He instinctively opened his mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape, it was choked back by the blood surging from his throat.

"Ugh... ugh!!!"

The young knight's eyes bulged wide. He clawed desperately at his own throat, like a drowning man gasping for air, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn't draw a single breath. Because the "water" drowning him wasn't coming from outside—it was coming from inside his own body!!

"-----!!!"

In the end, the young knight's body began to convulse wildly. He flailed his arms like a madman, his mouth gaping open, yet not a single sound escaped—only blood mixed with bubbles sprayed from his lips, streaming down his body to pool on the ground. Then, the young knight went still, utterly lifeless.

He had drowned in his own blood!

Though the young knight was dead, the blood flowing from his body did not stop. Slowly, his frame began to deflate like a punctured balloon, until he was nothing but a skin-and-bones mummy. Meanwhile, under the influence of some mysterious force, that blood gradually coalesced into a massive, crimson magic circle. The moment the circle was complete, a spectral figure suddenly emerged from its center, flailing its arms desperately in an attempt to flee this cursed place. But the next instant, like a dog yanked back by its leash, the figure was forcibly dragged away, vanishing once more into the circle.

Then, at the heart of the formation, a stone coffin shuddered violently before sinking back into silence.

"Still not enough..."

Gazing at the magic circle before him, the Lich let out a cold snort, then silently issued his command.

"Next."