As the undead soldiers closed in, a flicker of panic finally crossed Roland's face. In a flurry of motion, he tossed out spell scrolls, desperately trying to cut down the advancing undead.
Hela, too, had drawn her longsword and engaged the approaching enemies, her expression tense and focused.
But while she was stronger than the average person, her strength had its limits. Surrounded by multiple undead, she was quickly pushed into a defensive stance, struggling to hold her ground.
Seeing more and more undead pouring in, Roland's expression grew increasingly frantic. He threw out another scroll, this time casting a Tier Three spell.
Tier Three Spell - Fire Repulsion Ring.
A wave of fire burst outward from Roland's position, sending the undead nearby stumbling back. But caught within the blast radius as well, Hela was flung aside, crashing to the ground some distance away.
Watching Roland panic to the point of harming his own allies, the High Priest finally let out a breath of relief.
Tch. So he's nothing but a sheltered flower completely rattled by a few undead. What a waste.
With Roland clearly overwhelmed, the High Priest didn't bother paying him any more attention. Casually, he raised a hand and converted several nearby corpses into lesser undead, commanding them to carry the rest of the bodies scattered across the clearing to the altar.
Though many of his careful preparations on these corpses had been disrupted, they were still resources he had nurtured for some time. With a little luck, the altar might still be able to recycle a few into Tier One undead vital assets for his eventual escape.
As the lesser undead began piling corpses onto the altar, the High Priest turned his attention to the conversion ritual.
But just as he was about to begin, Roland, who had only been pretending to panic, suddenly regained composure. In one smooth motion, he tore open several more scrolls, precisely targeting and eliminating the nearby undead warriors. Then, lifting his gaze toward the High Priest, he activated two more spell scrolls this time with a faint, knowing smile.
Tier Three Spell - Ice Explosion.
Tier Three Spell - Corpse Detonation.
In the blink of an eye, the altar erupted in simultaneous blasts of frozen shards and exploding flesh. The combined shockwave exploded right in the High Priest's face.
Reacting instinctively, the High Priest tried to raise a magical shield to defend himself. But before he could complete the spell, Roland had already ripped open another scroll.
Tier Three Spell - Spell Disruption.
The incantation crumbled in the High Priest's mouth. His magic rebounded violently, and the full force of the explosion slammed into him.
A hurricane of ice and fire tore through the altar, flinging the nearby lesser undead through the air like broken dolls. Even some of the Tier One undead were swept away, unable to react in time.
But Roland, having anticipated the blast, remained firmly rooted in place. His clothes whipped around him in the wind, yet he stood completely unharmed.
A point-blank Ice Explosion and Corpse Detonation if that doesn't kill the High Priest, it'll certainly cripple him.
From inside his robes, Roland pulled out several fresh scrolls and began walking slowly toward the altar.
But just as he stepped onto the first stair of the altar, a stream of black corrosive fluid shot out from the cloud of dust, darting straight toward his head.
It froze midair, halted by a shimmering elemental shield that had appeared without anyone noticing.
"You bastard… I'll kill you."
As the dust settled, the High Priest came into view, using his staff to prop himself up. Half his body had been blown apart. His ornate dark-gold mask was cracked and broken, revealing a skeletal, withered face beneath. His left side had been completely torn open, the shreds of his robes exposing lifeless, shriveled flesh.
He glared at Roland with bloodshot, hate-filled eyes.
Roland chuckled, lazy and contemptuous.
"With you?"
At the same moment he spoke, he silently activated another scroll in his hand.
Tier Three Spell - Mind Domination.
The High Priest seethed, shaking with fury at Roland's arrogance. Without bothering to heal himself, he raised his staff to retaliate.
But he never got the chance.
While Roland held his attention, Hela, who had used the earlier chaos to retreat and reposition, reappeared silently behind him.
As Roland kept the High Priest fixated, Hela struck.
Her black longsword flashed like lightning, piercing straight through his arm. The crimson veins along the blade surged forward, injecting red filaments into his flesh.
The moment they entered, the dark energy in the High Priest's body reacted violently. His flesh around the contact point dissolved, dripping away in liquefied streaks.
With a sharp push, Hela severed his arm completely, sending the limb and his staff flying.
But her bold strike came at a cost. The High Priest, sensing the sudden pain, seized his one chance to counterattack. His remaining hand conjured a sphere of black light and hurled it at her.
Hela's barrier shimmered for only three seconds before shattering. The dark orb struck her squarely, launching her into a distant wall. Dust and stone showered the chamber.
The High Priest didn't pursue her. Instead, he scrambled toward his fallen staff.
But it was too late.
In the seconds he had spent retaliating, Roland had already summoned a Mage Hand, effortlessly retrieving the staff for himself.
As he gripped the weapon, Roland looked down at the High Priest and smiled faintly.
"Give that back!"
The High Priest charged at him like a madman.
But Roland merely blinked, vanishing in a short-range teleport and reappearing at the chamber's entrance, far out of reach.
Watching the life drain from the High Priest without the staff to stabilize his energy, Roland placed the weapon aside and calmly activated another scroll.
Tier Three Spell - Death Curse.
A dark, deathly glow surged into the High Priest's body. His already failing life force began to collapse entirely.
He staggered a few steps on the stairs then tumbled down the altar like a lifeless puppet.
When he finally landed at the base, the last remnants of his vitality had vanished.
Even so, Roland remained cautious. He activated two more scrolls and sent dual Tier Two spells streaking toward the corpse.
As the spells closed in, the High Priest's eyes shot open filled with venom and malice. Like a corpse rising from hatred alone, he shrieked curses at Roland.
Roland remained unmoved.
He'd been through worse he'd survived internet witch hunts in his past life. The vicious snarls of a bitter loser didn't faze him in the slightest.
"No, no, no-!"
In the High Priest's collapsing gaze, the magical blasts struck home, reducing every part of his body except the head to unrecognizable pulp. A final gray beam slipped into his skull, imprisoning his soul within.
It was over.
Roland stepped forward and placed his hand on the staff. Without any resistance, he erased the High Priest's imprint and replaced it with his own.