The corpses and wraiths gathered within the Sith Academy had already numbered in the tens of thousands, and even more corpses continued to crawl out from beneath the yellow sands!
Yet Darth Malthael did not so much as glance aside. He simply climbed the stairs one step at a time. First level, second level, third level...
But with every step he took, incomparably dense Dark Side Force and Death Force spilled forth. The terrifying power even left black footprints where he had stepped, wisps of black smoke curling up from them.
Great power was not a good thing at this moment, because it meant that the power could spiral out of control and devour its wielder.
This was a ritual, a ritual steeped in darkness and death.
He controlled these undead, but they also influenced him. At this moment, it was as though countless voices whispered, cursed, and screamed into his ears. One lapse in concentration, and he would be drowned in the endless negative emotions brought by these undead, becoming a madman.
Yet this ritual was something Darth Malthael had to complete!
Ever since he had become Darth Pregas's apprentice, the Dark Side Force and Death Force in his training had never truly merged into one. After all, the origins of Death Force were unknown, and it was his own power. Darth Pregas knew nothing about it, so he could only impart all he knew to Darth Malthael and let him train on his own.
As a result, Darth Malthael normally used the Dark Side Force in battle, resorting to Death Force only when necessary. The two intertwined with each other, yet never truly fused.
Darth Malthael had conducted countless exercises and attempts, but he had never managed to truly unite the two powers. It was only when he