"We'd better leave here quickly. These elite guards from the Necropolis were once the empire's mightiest warriors."
Bwonsamdi had infused the souls of the empire's warriors into suits of sturdy armor, forging them into unstoppable Ironclad Souls.
Fear shone in Talanji's eyes as she warned Rowan.
Before her words had faded, a bone-chilling Ice Lance pierced the iron armor. One Ironclad Soul warrior's soul dispersed, returning to the Necropolis.
Rowan didn't doubt Talanji, but with two High Archmages, Rhonin and Jaina, present, he felt perfectly confident. Their enemies might be powerful, but his side had nothing to fear.
"That's it?" Rowan turned to her and teased.
Whoosh. The sound of a soul tearing apart hissed like a storm suddenly gathering.
The skeletal iron armor re-formed, and another soul flowed into it. Faint deathly flames ignited over the ghostly blue bodies of the five remaining Necropolis warriors.
"Soul Sacrifice strengthens the other Necropolis warriors. The more of them fall, the stronger the survivors become." Talanji looked tense, but she didn't forget to explain the battle unfolding before them.
Her explanation was purely for Rowan's benefit, though. Both Archmages had already detected the steadily increasing power of the Necropolis guards.
Rowan wasn't the sort to grit his teeth and charge blindly to the bitter end. If they couldn't win, running was the best option.
This wasn't a battle for racial honor. There was nothing shameful about retreating. Even if racial honor were at stake, they still needed to maneuver around an enemy they couldn't beat. Staying alive came first.
"Are you feeling much pressure, Lord Rhonin?" Rowan asked.
At this stage, whoever did the most damage had the greatest say.
Although Rowan was the leader, he was completely out of his depth when it came to magical combat. Rather than try something