Awakening of the Arcane Overlord

King Harold could only assemble two other people, excluding Elion, Jarett, and himself. Out of the twenty-one people capable of casting the Soul Avenge Spell, only five people had gathered at the place where the dead were sent to reincarnate just some time ago.

Zevan's lips thinned into a line as he looked on in worry. He glanced at the imposter who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

'I do not think the imposter is here to help us. He must be here to sabotage the spell. We cannot allow him to participate. We definitely cannot.' Zevan conveyed his thoughts to his Master who was preparing for the spell.

As soon as Elion heard Zevan's caution, he stopped his work and looked up to stare at the imposter. His expression turned unsightly while his lips twisted in anger. 

'Let me speak to His Majesty. Hopefully, we can prohibit the imposter from participating,' he conveyed back and disappeared from the place.

Zevan did not lower his guards. Keeping an eye on the imposter, he started to analyze their current situation. 'We are four and if I include King Samael, King Darcy, and King Thalor, we are seven. We are not enough.'

Zevan's heart dropped when he realized they were short on powerful people. Although the Soul Avenge Spell could be cast with seven people, it would require a lot of mana. Seven people were just not enough.

But they did not have any choice either. Could they force the remaining sixteen people? No, they could not. After all, who would be willing to put their lives at risk? Moreover, it was uncertain if the spell would be a success. There was a higher chance of lives being lost than the spell being a success.

Zevan huffed in dismay and gnashed his teeth. His expression turned dark as he glared at the man occupying Prince Jarett's place.

As if sensing a gaze on him, the imposter snapped out of his thoughts and looked around. Instantly, he found Zevan looking at him as if he wanted to kill him.

When Zevan's eyes met the imposter's, he narrowed his gaze as if he wanted to burn him alive. 

If only he could do it.

Zevan wanted to burn him alive, watch him wither, and scream in pain while he avenged his people. Alas, it was not the time yet.

The imposter's expression turned evil, and a smirk tugged at his lips. It was as if he were challenging Zevan. He was silently provoking him, and Zevan had to use a lot of willpower not to succumb to his anger and explode. Otherwise, it would do him no good.

To distract himself, Zevan looked at the sky. The sun was moving towards the horizon slowly. They had less than an hour for the sun to set and night to fall.

As if foreshadowing evil, the birds had vanished from the sky. The vacant sky was as deserted as his heart and Zevan only felt terrible as time passed.

If only he knew how to cast the Soul Avenge Spell...

Zevan was upset with himself for being useless. When his kingdom and people needed him, he was of no help. What was the use of him being so powerful when he could do nothing in time of need?

Zevan's thoughts were complicated and he felt miserable. But that did not stop him from having hope. Although the chances were slim, he sincerely wished for the spell to be a success.

"Please, Your Majesty. Please think about it."

Zevan heard his Master's voice and noticed him and King Harold approaching them with King Dracy, King Samael, and King Thalor in the front.

"Elion, we are already short of people. If Prince Jarett leaves us as well, we are bound to fail tonight." Harold was not convinced and he rejected Elion's suggestion right away.

"What happened, Father? I hope everything is good," The imposter questioned, his expression sincere and filled with concern.

"It is not significant, Jarett. Do not worry," Harold assured him.

On seeing his Master's desperate and defeated expression, Zevan understood that he had failed to persuade His Majesty. At his wit's ends, he approached King Harold and stopped him, forcing the other kings to halt as well.

"You Majesty, I hope you will reconsider Prince Jarett's involvement this time," Zevan spoke brazenly, disregarding that he might offend his king or even the imposter. "Pardon me for my impudence but we need someone to rule the kingdom if the spell fails."

King Harold's expression changed drastically and he stared at Zevan as if he were a dead man. However, he was convinced by him to some extent and thought about it.

But before he could speak, the imposter beat him to it.

"Father, let me participate in the spell. I have an inkling that it will be a success. With more people, the success rate will increase as well," Jarett spoke with such confidence that it seemed they had already succeeded in casting the spell.

"I will not be a hindrance. I promise," Jarett added and it seemed his words were directed more at Zevan than King Harold.

King Darcy, King Samael, and King Thalor scrutinized Zevan curiously. He had piqued their interest and they could not help but want to discover more about him. There was something about him that intrigued them. 

The three men did not interrupt, allowing King Harold to handle the situation. Although Zevan's suggestion was worthy of consideration, the prince's confidence made them waver, rendering them incapable of deciding.

Zevan's brows knotted into a frown and he peeked at the imposter who did not show any expression. He remained impassive yet confident and eventually, King Harold was lured by his bold words.

"Zevan, I know you have good interests at heart. But this matter is important. Please do not intervene," he commanded and moved away.

Zevan glanced at his Master who shook his head dejectedly. Having no choice, he moved away and stood far away from the place as he joined the spectators while his hawk-like gaze was fixed on Jarett. 

The seven people got to work immediately and picked up the wooden sticks. Preparing themselves, they started drawing a heptagram on the ground as they injected their mana into it.

The sky had already turned dark and the stars had adorned the night. The sun was nowhere in sight. The time was perfect.

Zevan held his breath as he watched the seven people draw the heptagram. Once they were done, each took one of the points. Closing their eyes, they lifted their arms above their heads and started muttering the chant in their minds.

Next, they pulled out a dagger and sliced their palm, allowing their blood to fall on the ground. The moment their blood touched the heptagram, it was set ablaze. 

Zevan watched in awe as the fire ran through the markings before becoming one. Even though it was a dire circumstance, he could not stop marveling at the scene before him. It was his first time watching the Soul Avenge Spell and his palms kept trembling.

However, the situation turned deadly when one of the sorcerers, Minister Chauncey staggered in his spot before he spat out a mouthful of blood.