MTLNOVEL Ch. 13
Chapter 13. Fallen Saintess (2)
In Warlord Conquest, the master of a dungeon is commonly called a boss mob.
Among boss mobs, the trickiest opponents are mage types.
Well, even outside of boss mobs, mages are always a pain to deal with.
Whether on a blood-soaked battlefield or at a spit-flying negotiation table.
The funny thing is, the way to handle a mage is usually the same in most cases.
Make them unable to speak.
In this case, that means stopping them from casting spells.
“Hey, corpse-shoveler.”
In that context, insults are an excellent tool.
“Why do you keep using the same spells? Is that all you know?”
They stop the opponent from saying what they need to.
“Got a problem with your head? Did you eat bad mushrooms as a kid? Or is your mom an orc?”
Imagine this.
Some random guy on the street grabs you by the collar and starts hurling insults for no good reason.
Your mind would go blank first.
You’d wonder why you’re being insulted.
That creates a pause—a critical moment when facing a mage.
“Kihee, I thought some random thugs wandered in…”
As expected.
In the time it would’ve taken to chant three spells, the enemy was already caught in the quagmire of pointless retorts.
Meanwhile, the dust kicked up by the trap began to settle.
I could finally see my surroundings.
Like a rapper in a survival audition, I fired off a barrage of trash talk while quickly scanning the terrain.
“Oh, was your mom a goblin, not an orc? My bad. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a goblin runt. You know, the eastern wastelands are a bit far from here.”
The terrain was a wide cavern.
Roughly fifty meters from end to end.
On one side, corpses were piled up, likely used for [Blood Sacrifice] rituals.
The ceiling… was festooned with hundreds of soul cores, twinkling like Christmas lights.
“Kihee? Why do you talk like that…?”
“Don’t be too ashamed of your goblin kin. Sure, they live in rags in the wastelands, but… they’re your proud ancestors, aren’t they?”
The enemy’s form gradually came into view.
A scrawny frame.
A sleek white mask.
A creepy laugh and a voice that sounded like it got stuck in puberty.
“Scrawny, edgy, and creepy laugh.”
The trifecta of unlikeability.
The name of this guy was:
“Human necromancer. Tribus von Zarhill, second-generation vampire duke.”
Sounds overly grandiose, doesn’t it?
You’re exactly right.
This guy was a future powerhouse hero.
A budding hero of the Vampire Archduchy, my enemy faction.
“Kihee. Well, fine. I was just running low on sacrifices.”
The creator of the Soul Core Trap.
A level 7 mage of the Vampire School.
A man destined to lead the Vampire Archduchy’s revival in the distant future, a catastrophe for the Empire and the Theocracy…
And I had no idea why he was standing in front of me right now.
Damn this luck-based, garbage game.
***
Bad omens are rarely wrong.
This was no exception.
When I saw the Soul Core Trap, I thought there was a chance Tribus might be the dungeon’s boss mob.
But I couldn’t be certain because this was an event I’d never experienced.
“…Honestly, I was hoping it wasn’t him.”
Either way, I had to be cautious.
Tribus at this point was a troublesome opponent.
Warning bells rang in my head as my senses sharpened.
It felt like when I first arrived in this world, standing before the execution block.
Every piece of information my eyes caught was instantly processed in my mind.
First, I needed to assess his current state.
“How much weaker is he compared to his game version?”
This was years earlier than his original appearance.
Considering he wasn’t that old even in his debut, the gap between his future and current abilities must be significant.
“The spells used in the traps were all level 3 or below. Necro Ogre summoning is level 4, but he forced it.”
His spell level was around 3.
That was within expectations.
“But he has Kha’ulder’s Staff. And judging by the soul cores on the ceiling, he likely has that skill too.”
The staff and that skill were each dangerous factors.
Next.
“The Fallen Saintess… could that be her?”
Behind him, a woman was locked in a cage.
She was unconscious, face-down, so I couldn’t see her face, but given her priestly robes and blonde hair, she was likely the Fallen Saintess.
For reference, the Fallen Saintess was a Vampire faction hero who appeared alongside Tribus.
According to the lore, she was a priestess of Luark from a noble family, corrupted by Tribus.
She was as much of a headache, but seeing her unconscious and caged, I could relax for now.
“So, two major risk factors.”
Information gathering complete.
“Kihee… I’d love to tear you apart and float your mouth in water.”
Looks like he was done with this conversation too.
“Oh, that’s a fresh way to kill. Is that part of goblin parenting?”
“Under the blood, the predator’s thrashing prey—”
Ignoring my nonsense, Tribus raised his staff and began chanting.
A spell incantation.
The same kind seen in the Soul Core Trap.
“[Red Strange Touch]!”
[I activate Shield.]
[I activate Imperial Knight Swordsmanship.]
Whoosh!
The space tore open, and crimson tentacles shot out.
I swung my shield-like Shield spell, deflecting the tentacles.
Clang!
This confirmed it again.
He couldn’t skip the incantation for level 3 spells.
That spoke to his current capabilities.
The odds were good.
As long as I dealt with the risk factors.
“Olif.”
The plan was already set.
At my signal, Olif charged forward.
His long sword shimmered with surging aura.
Like a human weapon, the fifty-meter gap closed in an instant.
“What—”
The startled necromancer’s face hardened as he slammed his staff into the ground.
He shouted.
“Kha’ulder!”
The first risk factor.
Kha’ulder’s Staff.
“[Lightning Brand]! [Fireball]! [Cursed Grasp]! [Explosion]!”
A barrage of spells poured out.
Spells cast without incantations, skipping the chants he’d been preparing.
Boom! Crash!
Lightning struck the branded shield, ghostly hands and fireballs flew, and an explosion erupted at close range.
Two seconds more, and Olif could’ve taken his head.
But even Olif was forced to halt under such relentless bombardment.
“Just! A mere knight! Daring to face me?! [Banshee’s Scream]!”
No, he wasn’t just stopped—he was being pushed back.
Naturally, I was joining the attack.
With Shield and sword in hand, I circled wide to the right, approaching him.
I got pretty close while he was distracted, underestimating me.
Thirty meters.
He turned his gaze toward me.
“Kihee! A pincer attack?! You rat—”
Kha’ulder’s Staff was one of Tribus’ signature items.
Having used it a few times, I knew its options.
Basic effects included a decent spell proficiency bonus, with slight penalties to mana and strength.
When activated, additional effects kicked in:
Immobility.
Increased mana pool.
Additional spell proficiency bonus.
And…
“Skipping incantations for spells level 4 or below.”
“[Shadow Blade]! [Fireball]! [Red Strange Touch]!”
In short, he was a stationary turret.
A magical turret firing devastating shots without overheating or reloading.
Despite the massive drawback of immobility, this was why Kha’ulder’s Staff was considered overpowered.
I dispelled my Shield the moment the spell barrage passed.
It was when Tribus turned his attention back to Olif.
There was one thing he didn’t know.
He wasn’t the only one who could skip incantations.
[I activate Fireball.]
[I activate Lightning Arrow.]
“Kihee, what?! [Shield]! [Shield]!”
A frantic voice.
The fireball and lightning bolt crashed into a translucent mana wall.
As I charged at him from a different angle than Olif, I kept swinging my staff, casting spells.
[I activate Shield.]
[I activate Lightning Arrow.]
Of course, I wasn’t pumping out spells at his bombardment level.
With my mana trait limited to [Crude Mana], my mana pool was still at a level 1 or 2 mage’s capacity.
But the fact that I could skip incantations meant he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.
“That’s the goal.”
[I activate Shield.]
Clang!
Deflecting gray claws swung through the air with my Shield, I slid across the stone floor, reaching right in front of him.
I slashed at the Shield separating us with my sword.
In the end, a mage duel was about revealing each other’s cards.
I had to use my cards well to push him to his limits.
To make him play his second card as quickly as possible…
“What kind of mage hops around like a frog?! On some potion?! Kihee… [Black Thunder Veil]!”
The second card.
[I activate Warrior’s Insight.]
[Skill acquired.]
[Black Thunder Veil (4th-level)]
The reason Tribus could summon Necro Ogres.
The ability that let him cast spells beyond his rank.
Zzzzzz!
The moment he uttered the spell’s name, the air rippled.
Hundreds of black lightning strands fell, weaving around the caster like waves.
They engulfed everything nearby, tangible or not.
“Captain—!”
No dodging this.
A level 4 spell cast at point-blank range.
Faster than my reflexes, the dark lightning tore through the ground like giant claws.
Olif threw himself at me, pushing me aside.
He raised his scorched shield to block the lightning.
Boom!
The thunder shook my eardrums.
Crackle!
A stray bolt struck my Shield, shattering it.
My body flew back, tumbling several meters across the floor.
Instinctively, I sprang up.
My vision spun.
My head throbbed.
Even in these harsh conditions, Lord’s Unyielding Mind did its job.
Like when I stood before the execution block, I quickly assessed the situation.
“Olif is seriously injured.”
He was flung far away.
Not dead, but effectively out of the fight.
“Tribus is lightly injured. And out of mana.”
A long gash from my sword marked his chest.
His hand gripping the staff was pale, veins bulging.
That level 4 spell must’ve drained most of his mana.
Even that wasn’t achieved by his own power.
“[Shield].”
I stopped thinking and raised a Shield.
He stared at me with a drained expression.
“You’re… still going?”
His voice no longer carried a laugh.
A good sign.
“That measly mana? Those souls? I can replenish them endlessly…!”
He raised his arm toward the ceiling.
Purple mana flickered in his trembling grip.
One of the hundreds of soul cores on the ceiling flickered out.
At the same time, color returned to his skin.
“…I can refill it, that’s what I mean. Kihee.”
[Soul Absorption].
The second risk factor I’d noted.
“An improved version of Tribus' [Blood Sacrifice] ritual.”
It could replenish mana like a potion without a magic circle.
And, like [Blood Sacrifice], it enabled casting higher-tier spells.
This ability was why Tribus, a mere level 7 mage, remained a formidable foe even in the late game.
Given the right conditions, he could amass thousands or tens of thousands of soul cores and unleash level 9 spells at will.
“Just die already.”
He raised his staff.
“[Blood Flow Explosion]. [Bone Arrow]. [Fireball]. [Red Strange Touch]. [Ashen Claw]…”
A wave of spells surged toward me.
A scale that Shield couldn’t dodge or block.
I dispelled Shield and raised my staff high.
Mentally reciting a spell’s name, a different kind of barrier appeared before me.
[I activate Spirit Shield.]
Not the usual translucent blue barrier.
A crimson curtain several times larger than my body.
The moment the barrage of spells touched its surface, they vanished without a trace.
“…W-What?”
The eyes behind the white mask widened.
“Spirit Shield?”
Exactly.
A defensive spell specialized against magic.
A level 5 spell used by Vampire School mages to counter [Infernal Meteor].
“A mid-tier mage… No, that perfect form is beyond that… But why would a necromancer…?”
Confusion was clear in his dark eyes.
His gaze wandered above my head, fixing on two extinguished soul cores.
A look of incomprehension.
His trembling fingers pointed to the air.
He couldn’t process what was happening.
My plan was simple from the start.
[I activate Warrior’s Insight.]
[Skill acquired.]
[Soul Absorption (2nd-level)]
It’s a skill, isn’t it?