Amelia the Level Zero Hero

Chapter 106

Noele leapt to the side as Talon pounced at her. The wight was both fast and durable. A deadly combination. Which was expected from an S-ranked threat. It only lacked in its offensive abilities— but that was only for its level.

It was still far more dangerous than any A-rank monster. It had to have been as dangerous as the Void-touched kretus boar she fought back in Wolfwater. The wight shredded the ground with its claws, before snapping its gaze to the blonde girl as she barely evaded its first attack. The moment her feet touched the ground, it unhinged its jaws.

And a deluge of black flames poured out.

It was a cone of darkness that consumed everything it touched. It streaked out for a hundred feet. Rock and stone burned and melted as the Ruins of Fihla’s Castle was ripped apart by this magic. But as the flames let up, the Noble Spellsword was gone.

Talon swept its gaze over its surroundings as its wispy eyes flickered. It couldn’t find her— not on level ground. Because she had teleported atop a nearby pillar with [Flash Step].

Noele took a moment to steel herself and survey her surroundings. She looked down at the wight standing warily at the base of the pillar, before glancing at the grand ritual forming around the perimeters of the Ruins of Fihla’s Castle.

The magic was slowly encasing the former Dungeon as a dome fell overhead, and an amorphous purple mist gathered high in the sky to create the vague outline of a skeleton. Standing right beneath it with his arms raised, on a broken pedestal made of marble, was Tristan Devon.

He looked up with bloodshot eyes. His arms were spread wide as he chanted in the far distance. If he wasn’t stopped, Ar’elith the First Lich King would walk the world once more— but this time, as a being empowered by the Void.

Noele shook her head and glanced back down at the wight. Its gaze had landed on both Saros and Garron. The two adventurers aimed their weapons at the undead, before Noele leapt off the pillar.

Talon took a step forward— and the Noble Spellsword crashed into its back. She swung down with her short blade, digging through its hardened skin. Even with her [Noble Aura Blade], she struggled to cut through the wight’s defenses. It howled and twisted its neck around to face her, before snapping down with its jaws.

She blocked the second attack with her longer blade, gritting her teeth as she stared into Talon’s eyes. It looked like its neck had snapped. But it was an undead, so it didn’t care about that. It simply hefted, hurling the blonde girl off its back.

Noele flipped through the air before landing lithely right before the wight. It snarled at her as she raised her two blades.

“Noele!” Garron yelled, running to her side.

But she shook her head as she gave him a quick glance.

“No!” she called out. “You have to stop this ritual— you have to stop Tristan Devon!”

He blinked as he came to a halt. He stared at her, and the wight lunged. Noele parried the attack as she explained.

“We have to destroy Ar’elith’s phylactery before it’s too late. I can deal with the wight. But if the First Lich King returns, we’ll all be dead.”

“That’s…” Garron hesitated.

But Saros ran past the burly man, sprinting straight for the center of the ritual circle.

“If you’re not going, I’m going,” the Gnome Inventor said. “Somebody has to be the one to stop us all from dying.”

Garron gritted his teeth. He looked between Noele as she kicked the wight back and Saros as he leapt over a pile of rubble. The blonde girl sighed and held the Steel Tank’s gaze.

“Just go— I’ll join you soon.”

“...right,” the burly man finally acquiesced.

He turned around, following after Saros as the Noble Spellsword steeled herself. She looked back towards Talon. The wight growled as it pawed the ground, before it opened its mouth. Black flames began to coalesce between its teeth, and Noele tensed. But it didn’t attack her.

Instead, the black flames spilled from its mouth onto the ground beneath its feet. The blonde girl blinked, watching as the wight stepped onto the dark fire. Her eyes grew wide as she looked on.

Talon was burning itself.

At first, she didn’t understand what it was doing. But then she saw the way the flames stuck to its skin. And she realized that it was creating a coat of protection with its own dark fire. Just like her [Nobleflame Armor].

Noele narrowed her eyes. “This is going to be annoying…”

She tightly clutched the hilts of her two blades, before lashing out at the wight.

—--

Garron sprinted towards the center of the ritual circle. He stumbled as the earth shook, and a nearby column collapsed. Dust and debris shot into the air like a pillar as the Steel Tank steadied himself.

The ground was glowing brighter than before— the purple light from the spell illuminated the night. It had to have been visible from even dozens of miles away. Garron was certain that if he had been standing at the entrance of Arelioth’s Pass, he’d have seen the shine of the ritual. He clenched his jaw and continued on.

Saros was just ahead. While the Gnome Inventor was an A-rank adventurer, he wasn’t really a close-combat fighter. He mostly utilized his tools to aid him in battle. And because of that, he wasn’t the fastest or strongest around. Especially with his small stature, it made it quite difficult for him to navigate the mountains of rubble and debris around him.

Garron reached the gnome a moment later, and the two adventurers nodded at each other. They came to a halt right before the center of the ritual circle— below the empurpled mist coalescing at the very top of the dome.

Tristan Devon stood there, laughing wildly as he stared at the skeletal figure being built in the sky.

“After ten thousand years, the reckoning has come! It is time for the First Lich King to claim this mortal world and lead us all to salvation! Kneel, beg, cry in terror— it matters not what you do! There is no stopping the inevitable!”

“Oh, shut it!” Saros yelled as he tossed a Blooming Grenade at the [Necromancer].

Tristan Devon blinked, and the ground beneath him exploded. He screamed as he was tossed into the air from the blast. Garron raised his shield and charged at the falling [Necromancer]. Thanks to [Shield Rush], he could move twice as fast as he normally would, and a white aura overcame his tower shield.

The Steel Tank reached his target a moment later. He swung his shield at Tristan Devon as a white ring pulsed out. The impact sent the [Necromancer] flying back as his bones cracked, before he crashed amidst a pile of rubble.

Garron was pretty sure that his attack had snapped Tristan Devon’s neck. But the [Necromancer] simply rose back to his feet and snapped his neck back into place. Bone magic? Probably, considering his Class. He sighed as he waved his hand dismissively.

“You can’t stop the ritual even if you kill me— and you’re never going to be able to find the phylactery,” he said as a black fireball coalesced on the tip of his finger. “Your efforts are futile.”

And with the flick of his wrist, he sent the spell hurtling at the Steel Tank. Garron cursed, backing away. But he couldn’t get out of the way in time. He readied his [Iron Will] just in time to block the blast of black flames.

Garron grunted as he stood his ground. There was a flash of light. For a moment, it was like his tower shield had become a mirror for just a single moment. And the black flames dissipated. The Steel Tank defended Tristan Devon’s attack, even though there was around 10 levels separating them.

That was the thing about [Necromancers]. They could summon powerful undead to fight for them— but oftentimes they could hardly even fight on their own against someone close to their level. Generally, their offensive spells were far weaker than what most [Mages] around the same level could muster up. But that was because a [Necromancer] was suited to bolstering their minions.

And right now, Tristan Devon had no minions. His army of undead had been wiped out by the three adventurers on their way to the Ruins of Fihla’s Castle. And the wight was currently preoccupied by Noele.

So Garron took in a deep breath and raised his shield as he eyed the [Necromancer]. He heard a set of small footsteps approaching him, before glancing back.

“Saros— do you have any antimagic equipment that can disable this ritual?” he asked the Gnome Inventor.

Blinking, Saros came to a halt right behind Garron. He furrowed his brows as he quickly dug through his Bag of Holding. He nodded slowly as he pulled out a flask.

“I… may have a thing that could work,” the gnome replied hesitantly. “But I’m not sure if it’ll work.”

“We have to try what we can… I’ll hold off Tristan Devon,” Garron said simply, drawing forward.

“Alright.” Saros nodded.” Just don’t die or Noele is going to kill me.”

The Steel Tank grinned. “I’ll try not to.”

With that, the gnome broke off, running straight for the center of the ritual circle. The [Necromancer] just watched this scene, rolling his eyes.

“As I said, your efforts are pointless.” He conjured up a ball of acid, before throwing it at the Gnome Inventor.

But Garron moved faster with the help of [Protect Allies]. He swung with his shield, batting away the ball of acid, splashing it over the rock ground. He heard a sizzle, watching as steam rose from the ground.

“And as I said, I’m going to be the one to deal with you,” the Steel Tank said as he raised his shield.

“Oh?” The [Necromancer] raised a brow, amused. “And how are you going to do that with that?”

He pointed at Garron’s tower shield. The Steel Tank blinked, before his eyes went wide.

It was melting.

At least, small chunks of the shield were melting away. As a whole, it was still mostly intact. But bits of the metal had been corroded and destroyed. Garron pursed his lips as he stared at his trusty shield. He closed his eyes, remembering what Noele had told him.

He had to fight with reason— because he had to. So he could overcome his current self and become stronger.

And the Steel Tank’s eyes snapped open a moment later.

“This shield is more than enough to hold you off, [Necromancer]!” he shouted, charging straight for Tristan Devon.

The [Necromancer] just cackled, conjuring a spear made of ice. He casually tossed the projectile at Garron. And the spell exploded over the shield.

But the Steel Tank didn’t slow.

Even as a large chunk of his shield was ripped off from the attack, he ran on. And Tristan Devon blinked.

“Well, how about this?” He created a giant boulder and threw it at Garron.

Again, the attack was deflected. But this time, instead of just splashing over the ground, it exploded into thousands of tiny shards that rained around the Steel Tank. His armor was cut apart as he felt the small bits of debris piercing his skin, and he roared in pain.

Tristan Devon conjured spell after spell— each attack whittled away at whatever remained of the shield. Even though his magic was weaker than a [Mage] at his level, he was still far stronger than any enemy Garron had ever faced in battle.

And still, the Steel Tank continued.

The [Necromancer] paled, backing up as Garron drew closer. He tried to create another black fireball, but he was too slow. His eyes widened, and the burly man rammed into him a moment later.

Garron struck Tristan Devon with what was left of his shield. And the remaining metal shattered upon impact, digging deep into Tristan Devon’s stomach. He yelped in pain, only to be slammed into the ground by the Steel Tank.

“You—” the [Necromancer] started.

But Garron just punched him in the face. “Where are you hiding the phylactery?”

“I…” Tristan Devon opened his mouth.

Only to be punched in the face again. And again. And again. Garron continued to break the [Necromancer]’s face until he was bloodied and bruised. Finally, the Steel Tank gripped Tristan Devon by the collar and asked again.

“Where’s the phylactery? How can we destroy it?”

“Oh, you poor fool,” Tristan Devon chuckled, before coughing up blood. “You don’t understand, do you?”

“What?” Garron narrowed his eyes. “Explain!”

“You cannot destroy the phylactery— because it is all around you!” The [Necromancer] spread his arms wide as he laughed.

The Steel Tank blinked. “All around me? What does that mean?”

Tristan Devon just sighed with a crazed smile on his face, and the ritual continued unraveling around them.

“Everything you see around you is the phylactery,” he said as he shook his hea d. “Because it is the Ruins of Fihla’s Castle!”

And Garron stared in shock. “What…?”