Hyper-Dimensional Player-Chapter 513 - 86: Backlash! Curse_3

His energy bar was about a third depleted.

In this regard, this human form didn’t have the endurance of the first human form and his stamina recovery was slightly worse. Duncan slightly slowed his charge, quickly joining up with Hegel next to him. The two exchanged a glance, sharing a mutual understanding, and simultaneously charged towards the beast-man monsters.

Boom!

Hegel was like a walking tank, clad in heavy armor, wielding a warhammer and shield to clear a path ahead. Duncan followed closely behind, pulling out a javelin and aiming at the distant enemies.

A lightning bolt tore through the sky.

The beast-head monster that seemed to be a legion commander was slain, and the nearby undead army fell into chaos.

"Don’t linger in battle."

"Let’s go."

Duncan covered Hegel’s retreat, the two reversing direction, charging back and forth seven times before turning to support others.

With the two of them holding the frontline, using the terrain nearby, they created an impenetrable defense.

"In a moment, you and I will take turns activating Frenzy."

Within the Barbarian Battle Group, only Duncan and Hegel mastered the ability of Unyielding Frenzy. Other barbarians would become fatigued after using Frenzy.

Typically, this fatigue state shortens as one’s strength increases.

As long as they allowed other barbarians the time to rest, someone could always activate Frenzy.

The witch, Gleya, was stunned.

It was her first time witnessing someone dealing with miraculous summoning spells in such a direct way while beside her, the pirate Anne and Storm Eira were also on a killing spree. However, the pirate’s rapier wasn’t very effective at this moment, so she switched to a pirate cutlass.

The bodies stacked up in front had formed a hill, almost like a man-made wall, blocking the undead army pouring in from all directions.

The other barbarians, after charging and fighting, were starting to pant heavily, especially Crete.

Yet Duncan and Hegel showed no signs of fatigue, unhurriedly slaughtering the undead army before them. As soon as elite enemies came within 500 meters, Duncan pointed, and Hegel struck, slaughtering beast-man monsters one after another.

"At this rate, we’ll really hold on until dawn!"

At that moment, the witch Gleya no longer doubted the barbarians’ physical prowess and endurance—they could not be considered ordinary humans.

Meanwhile.

In a certain underground altar on the Golden Coast, a high priest in a black robe held a heavy black book, his expression astounded, seemingly peering at distant events through some means, muttering: "These barbarians? Are they really human?"

Theoretically.

He used the Book of the Dead to open the Gate of the Netherworld, summoning the undead army endlessly, but even this summoning had an output limit—no matter how endless the numbers, there was a limit to how many could be awakened at once.

And now it was clear the summoned numbers couldn’t keep up with the barbarians’ slaughtering pace.

They were killing too fast!

The once dense undead army now appeared sparse at the front line.

"No!"

"Stronger undead must be summoned!"

Swish.

The surrounding priests in black robes, holding ritual daggers, executed the slaves beside them—this was a blood sacrifice ritual. They intended to offer sacrifices, praying for more powerful undead to descend.

The leading high priest placed the Book of the Dead at the center of the altar, chanting spells as an unknown whirlwind arose around.

Isa Island.

The same scene occurred by Duncan’s side—the battlefield ahead was swept by a whirlwind, resembling a sandstorm, with the ground flowing like quicksand, cracking open into a massive maw, swallowing Duncan’s figure like a Sphinx.

"Watch out!"

The witch Gleya had just warned.

Bang!

With a loud noise, Duncan’s figure leapt out from the underground quicksand, the resulting blast wave creating rippling circular patterns in the surrounding sand.

Duncan sprang up, hurling his ancestral projectile, instantly killing a priest-like mummy.

Buzzing!

Swarms of locusts surged from the darkness, seemingly realizing the undead army couldn’t handle these barbarians. The dense swarm approached like a dark cloud.

Finally, it’s my turn to take the stage.

The witch Gleya’s expression shook. She took out a bottle and opened it. As she chanted a spell, she blew out a wisp of flame. In an instant, a fiery serpent surged out, its body snaking over tens of meters, swallowing the swarming insects in the sky and scattering countless charred ashes.

She planted her staff into the ground, and the spreading quicksand solidified into rock. The swirling flames danced like a frenzied fire serpent, engulfing a vast number of enemies ahead.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

The barbarians who charged too quickly were scorched and cried out in distress. Crete’s hair was completely burned off, and he retreated in a rolling, disheveled state.

He glared at the witch behind him, thought for a moment but decided to let it go, considering this woman was quite formidable after all.

Magic doesn’t differentiate between friend and foe.

With Duncan’s strength, teaming up with Hegel, killing the rear Pharaoh mummy was not a difficult task. However, he didn’t do that; instead, he led a group of barbarians to continuously slaughter the enemy. Unknowingly, thousands of undead nearby were already hacked to death.

"You mentioned earlier, this is a curse?"

With half of his energy bar remaining, Duncan returned to the witch Gleya’s side and said solemnly, "If the curse isn’t lifted, will these undead keep coming after us?"

The witch Gleya, a bit confused, still nodded, "Yes."

"The enemy used the Book of the Dead to curse you all."

"As long as the curse remains, the undead will keep harassing you until you are dragged into the Netherworld, or the one who cast the curse can’t afford the cost of summoning the undead."

Such a thing exists?

Kinda feels like those magic-like abilities from the mummy lore.

Duncan immediately started restraining the barbarians. They decided not to leave here; he wanted to see just how many undead the enemies could summon.

A group of barbarians hacked away until dawn.

Then, at dawn, the seemingly endless army of undead gradually turned to dust and dispersed.

But the curse remained.

At midnight the next day, another dense crowd of undead appeared, but compared to the first day, there were far fewer.

The witch Gleya seemed to understand what Duncan intended to do.

"Is he planning to kill until the one who cast the curse is countered by the ritual?" The witch was shocked.

Summoning undead requires paying the price as well.

With this group of barbarians’ frenzied killing, even if she were to preside over the ceremony, she wouldn’t last long before being drained into a husk, and once a curse ritual is initiated, it’s not easily lifted.

The next day.

Another great battle, barbarians began to get injured, but it wasn’t a big issue. The witch Gleya had potions, but after continuous combat, others also showed signs of fatigue, yet, out of trust in Duncan, nobody expressed any doubt.

Finally, after the barbarians killed tens of thousands of undead.

On a distant golden coast, on a certain altar, knelt a trembling black-robed priest. His entire figure was emaciated, resembling a dried corpse, with all life force drained, his eyes blood-red, his expression left only with deep terror.

How long can these barbarians hold out?

All around the ancient altar, dried corpses of black-robed priests lay scattered on either side. As an angry gust of dark wind rose, the flowing sands shaped into a towering figure with a jackal’s head.

"No!... Great Anubis!..."

"I will keep offering sacrifices!..."

"No!!!"

Crack.

The entire altar began to crumble, the Book of the Dead in his hand turned to dust. A gigantic hand grabbed the black-robed priest, then the ground opened a gaping black maw, directly swallowing his soul and dragging it into endless darkness.

Rumble!

The temple arranged for the ceremony was collapsing, the quicksand devoured everything, and in the sound of enraged exclamations, swallowed all the priests who presided over the ceremony.

The undead army of the Netherworld suffered heavy losses, and the priests who summoned them had to pay the price.

In just two days.

An ancient ceremony that had persisted on the golden coast for hundreds of years was directly rendered ineffective, and no longer could anyone use the Book of the Dead to launch this curse ritual.

The warrior-spirits of the Netherworld no longer responded to any summons.

.........