Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 117: Cultists and Monsters (2)

Dozens of ice pillars formed midair and came crashing down to the earth.

Boom! Boom! Boom-boom-boom!

The enormous icy spikes created a wide enclosure, trapping the stone orcs inside. From between the pillars, a group of humans emerged.

A dark-haired young man holding a staff sneered at the orcs. "Wow, I didn’t expect them to fall for it so quickly."

A blonde knight clad in heavy armor shrugged in agreement. "Right? I thought we’d have to wait at least an hour after casting the bait."

From the opposite side, a red-haired beauty and a young priest stepped into view.

"Well done, Lapicel," Serati praised.

Lapicel gave a shy smile in response.

Alius, looking at the decapitated orc chieftain, couldn’t help but express his admiration. "I thought it was too dangerous, but clearly, I was wrong."

This was exactly why Karnak had insisted on bringing Lapicel. The tactic of using a powerful warrior disguised as an easy target to lure monsters was a well-known hunting strategy, even to the monsters. Thus, monsters were wary of adult humans, no matter how unarmed or vulnerable they seemed.

But a child? Monsters rarely hesitated to attack children. This made it a highly efficient method to save time. The problem, of course, was the extreme danger posed to the bait. However, Serati was far from an irresponsible mentor.

"Now I understand why you brought her along," Alius said, nodding. "She’s no ordinary talent."

To be honest, she was far beyond ordinary talent.

"I didn’t expect her to have developed such skill in such a short time."

Her movements were far too refined for someone who had only been training for a couple of months. Even if she had started her training as a prodigy in an elite family from the age of five or six, it would have been hard to believe she could reach this level at her age.

Serati, having anticipated such suspicions, replied without skipping a beat, "She’s just incredibly gifted. When you have talent, growth can be quick."

On reflection, it made sense. Karnak had been a fourth circle mage when Alius last saw him, but he was now a sixth circle advanced mage. Similarly, Varos had become a full-fledged aura user. Even though their growth was nothing short of explosive and astounding, Alius did not think strange of it. It was just who they were.

Well, with good mentors, I suppose it’s possible, Alius thought, recalling his own experience of learning divine spells in mere days.

It was a rare moment of camaraderie shared only by prodigies, the kind of unspoken connection others found insufferable. At any rate, the task now was to eliminate the remaining orcs and check for signs of heretical activity. Karnak’s party surrounded the orcs, who snarled and brandished crude stone axes and clubs.

“Kraaaah!"

"Kakakaka!"

One particularly large stone orc stepped forward. It was the second-in-command. With the chieftain dead, this orc had just claimed the position of leader.

Raising a massive stone axe high above its head, the new leader let out a thunderous roar. "Kwaaaaaah!"

This roar meant, "I’m the boss now! Follow me!"

And then its head was instantly removed.

Boom!

The shattered fragments of its skull scattered through the air. Barely three seconds into its reign as leader, the second-in-command had relinquished its spot to the third-in-command.

Karnak, pointing casually with his finger, muttered in a bored tone, "All this mountain air is making me hungry. Let’s finish up quickly and grab lunch."

***

Red hair billowed in the wind. Stretching her body straight like a crane and darting forward as swiftly as a swallow, Serati dove into the midst of the orcs.

"Taaah!"

Her crimson aura blade left trails of light in its wake, a radiance that cut through everything it touched. Orc blood spurted out in quick succession.

“Gah!"

Serati’s commanding presence, as she felled one stone orc after another, caused Lapicel’s eyes to sparkle with admiration. Her swordsmanship was strikingly vivid and dazzlingly beautiful.

Wow, Sister Serati is amazing!

In contrast, Varos’s swordsmanship was plain. He stepped forward with steady resolve, delivering a single, deliberate strike.

His body remained rooted like a mountain, unshakable and firm. His arms flowed with the grace of a storm winding over a mountain peak. He simply swung, withdrew, countered, and slashed with calm precision. Lapicel glanced between the two and hesitated.

Oh no, I think Brother Varos’s swordsmanship might be better than sister’s.

Sister Serati’s technique was undoubtedly spectacular. But Brother Varos’s method felt solid, dependable.

I want to copy Brother Varos’s technique...

But she was Serati’s apprentice. Would imitating Varos be disrespectful to her mentor?

What should I do?

After a moment of deliberation, Lapicel struck a compromise.

If I follow both, it won’t be disrespectful!

Adjusting her grip on her sword, she stepped forward. An orc charged at her, targeting her without hesitation.

"Hiyah!"

With an adorable battle cry, she used the momentum of her entire body to propel herself forward. Twisting midair, she unleashed a series of precise slashes. Her swordsmanship, as vibrant as blooming flowers, pierced the orc’s vital points with flawless accuracy.

"Graaagh!"

After silencing the orc in a single move, Lapicel landed gracefully, her posture unshaken. By blending the steadiness of Varos’s method with the flair of Serati’s, she created a unique sword style of her own.

Success!

Thanks to her excellent mentors, she had developed remarkable skills. Filled with gratitude, Lapicel launched herself into action again. Around her, the anguished cries of the orcs echoed through the forest. Serati’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched.

I never taught her that!

It wasn’t a question of whether she had taught Lapicel or not. This wasn’t a skill she could have taught. Why? Because it was a level of swordsmanship far beyond her reach.

Good heavens...

Lapicel moved from stillness to motion, from motion to stillness. She stood firm like a mountain, flowed fluidly like a river, fluttered gracefully like a flower, and struck with the force of a lightning bolt.

That’s the perfected form of Tascal swordsmanship!

Tascal swordsmanship was the style Serati had mastered and was currently teaching Lapicel. But there was no way Lapicel could already know this technique. The parts she had been taught so far were only the basics, foundational elements common across most schools of swordsmanship.

—Do you think Lapicel learned Tascal swordsmanship in her past life?

Serati asked, still stunned.

—Who knows?

Varos replied. Even he couldn’t keep track of all the techniques Lapicel might have mastered in her previous life. But even if she hadn’t learned it before, it wasn’t entirely surprising.

—That’s just a phase most swordsmen pass through when they train in other styles, anyway.

To be frank, Varos could perform the same techniques himself. At the moment, he was simply sticking to the basics for practice. By the standards of top-tier swordsmanship, such skills were considered commonplace.

Serati’s voice grew somber.

—So, what you’re saying is... my ultimate move is just a regular slash to her?

A deep sense of inadequacy washed over her, and she let out a long sigh.

Varos chuckled, trying to console her.

—It’s normal to feel that way when you’re up against her. Even I and the other Martial Kings felt the same.

Though Varos and the other Martial Kings were undoubtedly stronger overall, Lapicel’s innate battle sense was something none of them could match.

—Don’t overthink it. Just focus on stealing and learning from her. That’s what we did.

—Really?

Hearing that even the mighty Martial Kings had felt the same eased some of Serati’s self-doubt. Letting go of her pride, she turned her full attention to Lapicel’s movements.

Oh, so that’s how it’s done.

Serati herself had awakened her aura at a young age, a testament to her exceptional talent. While she was no match for someone like Lapicel or the other Martial Kings, she had still been regarded as a prodigy in her own right.

Moreover, she was still in the prime of her physical and mental growth. Identifying her shortcomings proved to be an enlightening experience. With her newfound awareness, Serati’s movements became noticeably more refined and elegant.

"Ha!"

Watching her, Lapicel thought to herself, She’s demonstrating advanced swordsmanship techniques!

Of course, it had to be because Lapicel had followed along so well that Serati was now showing her a higher level of swordsmanship. Sister Serati truly was an amazing teacher, or so she thought. Lapicel felt gratitude toward her and devoted herself even more to observing and learning.

Swordsmanship is all about stealing from your teacher, Lapicel reminded herself.

Serati had never actually said that, and it was unclear where Lapicel had picked up the idea. Regardless, her movements became even more precise and intricate. She read every motion the orcs made—anticipating, predicting, and even grasping the flow and trajectory of their strength—before striking with impeccable precision.

Her ability to completely dominate their every move turned the chaotic battle into something more akin to a staged performance. The forest echoed with the dying cries of the orcs.

“Kraaaah!"

“Kegh!"

"Aaaargh!"

The two students of swordsmanship continued to spar with their foes while also subtly learning from one another. Serati, as the teacher, instructed her apprentice, while Lapicel, as the apprentice, also taught her teacher. It was a beautiful dynamic, a master-disciple relationship in perfect harmony.

Well, aside from the minor issue that one of them had far more to learn than the other.

Struggling to keep up with Lapicel’s movements, Serati screamed internally, Slow down, teacher! You’re going too fast!

***

Under the overwhelming difference in power, the stone orcs continued to fall one after another. When pushed to this extent, even the most savage monsters would normally lose their will to fight.

Since the concept of surrender didn’t exist for monsters, their only remaining option was to flee. Yet these orcs couldn’t even manage that. Karnak and Alius had thoroughly blocked their escape routes. The orcs turned and tried to run, but Karnak cast a spell as he fixed his gaze on their retreating forms.

"Let the light of restraint bind my foes. Hold Person!"

Ropes of light materialized, wrapping around the fleeing orcs’ bodies and pinning them to the ground. Bound and thrashing in vain, the orcs were quickly silenced by the blades that followed, their spirits extinguished.

Despite the name Hold Person, the spell didn’t discriminate between humans and other creatures. It created ropes of light that descended from above to ensnare bipedal beings, hence the name. For quadrupeds, there was a separate spell called Hold Beast, which used horizontal loops of light to bind them.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Alius raised a holy prayer. "Hatoba, cast your authority upon the sinners and force them to their knees."

Waves of sonic energy rippled across the battlefield. The orcs who were trying to flee suddenly froze in place, their bodies stiffened mid-stride.

“Guhh!"

"Krrk?"

One by one, the remaining orcs collapsed, and soon, none of them were left standing.

A faint curse in the orcish tongue echoed through the air. "Krrkkraak..."

Roughly translated, it meant: "Damn it! I knew my luck was too good today.”

Alius began channeling divine energy, his eyes scanning the field littered with orc corpses.

"Let’s begin the examination," he said.

The radiant light of the goddess swept slowly over the bodies. Most of the orcs showed no trace of darkness, but the ones who had been killed first, by Lapicel’s decapitating strike and Karnak’s explosive magic, were different.

“Sir Karnak’s prediction was correct," Alius announced.

The higher-ranking orcs emanated an unnatural aura, a refined trace of necromancy rather than the chaotic Shadow of Doom.

"These creatures were under the control of a necromancer."