Chapter 199: The Corpse Queen (4)

Chapter 199: The Corpse Queen (4)

"...ahhhhhh?

Vikir expressed his disbelief through his mask.

The undead in front of him was skeletal, but clearly had brown skin and flowing hair that was a mixture of silver and black hair.

Moreover, the tattoos on its body were unmistakably Balak's.

Ahheman, the Shaman of Balak.

A black mage of considerable distinction, born of the shamanic tribe Rokoko.

Yes, he was definitely dead.

He was crushed and shattered by Iliad's battle with Vikir, and eventually burned to death at the hands of his own people.

But his gritty life force.

And the tenacity, inferiority complex, grief, anger, jealousy, despair, greed, frustration, and hatred that he harbored to the very end have brought him to this place as an undead.

Now there is no native shaman who was once so ancient and honored.

[ttagag- ttagagag- ttag!]

However, only the undead, whose only way to express themselves is by clashing their teeth, remain ugly.

Meanwhile.

The Corpse Queen looked at the lich she had created from the corpse of Ahheman and said.

[The corpse of a black mage, picked up relatively recently, a good thing from the depth of the Black & Red Mountain].

Ahheman was an ugly twisted creature on the inside, but otherwise a formidable force to be reckoned with in terms of qualities and talents, comparable to Morg Adolf.

He would have been a formidable foe, even for a Vikir, if he had focused on the ways of the Mage from an early age instead of trying to impersonate a warrior.

But he was eventually consumed by the Abyss, unable to overcome the inferiority complex and sense of victimization that consumed his soul.

The classic case of a talented, perverse mage being consumed by the Abyss of Magic. That is the Lich.

[ttagag- ttag- ttattag-]

A skeleton whose lips had rotted away, leaving his teeth and rotten gums exposed, Ahheman could only grind his teeth together to make a sound, unable to speak, as if he had lost all sense of self.

He was a faithful puppet, doing the Corpse Queen's will.

"Why is Ahheman's body here when it should be in the Black & Red Mountain?

Vikir pondered for a moment.

After all, hadn't a knight from Don Quixote's Family been a puppet of Dantalian's not too long ago?

Furthermore, Staffordshire of the Baskervilles, Mozgus of the Quovadis, and Rose of the Morg had all fallen prey to the demon as living corpse puppets.

This should come as no surprise, as collecting corpses and turning them into puppets is the demon's specialty.

Vikir didn't have time to ponder this.

[ttag- ttagag- ttagagag-]

The sound of teeth and jawbone colliding is loud.

Ahheman's lich shifted, and an unpleasant aura began to fill the air.

Tsutsutsutsutsuts...

The bones began to move again.

Vikir narrowed his eyes.

Ahheman's specialty in life had been playing with the dead.

And now that he was a Lich, the stench was even more vile, threatening the entire battlefield.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

A black air currents rushed around Ahheman, and the dead around him came back to life.

Surprisingly, even Ephebo, Pedo, and Hebe, who had been killed by Vikir earlier against the Dantalians, came back to life.

[grrr...]

[giggle- giggle-]

[Swoosh! Swoosh!]

Unlike Geronto, who was brought back to life with a clean look, Ephebo, Pedo, and Hebe were in a state of disrepair.

But Vikir soon realized that they didn't need to be restored to good looks.

Pow! Woodchuck!

yet.

[...Die, barbarian].

The corpse queen raised a black sun above her head.

The infernal flames bubbled and boiled like oil.

A black aerola stretched out like a coiled snake.

"...."

Vikir crouched low to the ground where the pillar of frightening flames fell.

Kiriririk-quack!

The black vines of the Infernal Tree that Lich had summoned and the giant hands of the Ragged Golem had sealed off Vikir's escape route.

Vikir gritted his teeth.

'Truly rotten. King of Corpses.'

Even though it was only half a human, its power was immense.

However, Vikir did not back down either.

Go-o-o-o-o...

Having already killed Andromalius and Dantalian, the experience imprinted on his body and soul accelerated the mana coursing through his veins, harder and faster.

Baskerville Seventh Formula.

A small but distinct seventh tooth in the aura of a Peak Graduator.

Purr-.

Vikir drew the magic sword Beelzebub from his wrist and swung it lightly once.

The seemingly insignificant movement, like the flapping of a butterfly's wings, instantly created a tremendous ripple.

Kurrrrrr!

Spinning in a circle at high speed, the aura storm soon formed a sphere, emitting a blinding red light.

A black aura sun rested on the tip of a tall sword, preparing to descend.

At the same time.

Quack, quack, quack!

The Infernal Tree summoned by the lich, the body of the rag golem, and the aura emitted by Vikir clashed head-on.

The shredded roots of the Infernal Tree and the body of the Ragged Golem.

The seven teeth of the night hound gathered together in the shape of a sphere and soon viciously attacked everything that stood in their way.

And the final battle is the Black Sun summoned by the Corpse Queen.

Uh-oh!

Vikir's crimson sun and the corpse queen's black sun clashed together to form a penumbra.

The half-destroyed buildings were completely destroyed.

Stone shattered into sand, and sand boiled.

Steel rebar melted like cheese in the hot winds blowing from the center of the collision.

Everything was falling to pieces on the battlefield.

"...!"

Vikir suddenly saw something strange.

It was the eyes of the Corpse Queen.

The corpse queen's red eyes shining through her skull helmet.

Morg Snake, who was supposed to be the Corpse King. Those eyes that were so different, yet somehow so familiar.

[...!?]

Her eyes glowed with the reflection of the magic sword that was emanating from Vikir's hand and the aura it carried.

And at the same time.

[... Now, wait a minute!]

The Corpse Queen cried out when she saw Vikir's aura.

Her tone was both urgent and desperate.