Ah, Andorhal (End)

After making another round, Roderick killed another necromancer in a dried-up well, but the poisonous mist showed no sign of dissipating. Perhaps the formation's power had begun to decline, but unless he found its core, it could continue operating.

Ignoring Astartes's warning, he tried to use his own energy perception to locate the formation's core. The outside of his holy water bandages was covered in highly toxic substances, and his nasal passages began to burn—a sign that the toxins were irritating his respiratory mucosa. The core of an Undead formation would naturally be heavily guarded, and a bloody battle awaited him. He could not use the oxygen stored in his body yet.

The veins of the Undead magic formation were naturally buried deep underground. Finding the necromancer in the well had truly been Roderick's good fortune. In the pitch-black depths of the well, a distinct energy line appeared on his retina like a cable.

However, the Undead had done their work meticulously. They had filled all the soil back in, preventing Roderick from using this place to directly locate the formation's core.

The magic formation was entirely Arcane energy. As if comforting himself, Roderick sprinkled a bottle of holy water over the area where the energy was most concentrated. This was probably the spell node the necromancers needed to maintain.

Returning to the surface from the deep well, he went back to the wall he had shattered earlier. A three-dimensional image of all Andorhal appeared in his mind. The straight line extending from here and the magical circuit in the well intersected at only one point—the original Andorhal town hall.

Though he did not know whether the enemy who had constructed the formation would be so straightforward, Roderick had no extra time to continue investigating.

The pain inside his nasal