Chapter 160: Supreme Undead Emperor

Chapter 160: Chapter 160: Supreme Undead Emperor

The barrier didn’t just take the hit; it groaned.

Lazaria struck the surface with enough momentum to send a violent shockwave rolling across the field. Beneath her, the earth buckled, spiderwebbing into deep fractures. Stone and pulverized dust erupted into the air, swallowing her whole.

Inside the cloud, she dropped to one knee, coughing through lungs that felt scraped raw. Every drag of air sent a sharp, white-hot knife through her ribs. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out beneath her.

Not yet. Stay up.

She locked her knees and dragged herself forward, one hand pressed hard against her side.

Through the thinning haze, a dark silhouette emerged. The Being walked with an agonizing, deliberate slow pace, trailing its heavy broadsword through the dirt.

Sccccrrrraaaape...

The metal shrieked against the stone—a sound that made the skin on her arms crawl. Lazaria forced her chin up, blinking through the spots in her vision until the figure came into focus.

It stopped a few paces away. Crimson eyes burned through the dust, locking onto her with an unnerving, hungry intensity. It wasn’t the look of a warrior facing an equal; it was a predator admiring prey it had already decided to devour.

"Your father..." the creature rasped.

Lazaria’s expression hardened into granite.

It took another step, the blade dragging behind it. "I must have my revenge on him." Its clawed fingers tightened around the hilt, pale tendons straining against dark skin. "He turned me into this monster."

It halted right in front of her. Lazaria stared at its ruined, decayed form, trying to map its words onto anything she knew. None of it made sense. Her father was dead. He had been dead for years.

"I must kill him," the crimson eyes flared brighter, "but first... I’ll start with his daughter."

Its lips peeled back in a grotesque smile.

A sudden chill settled in the pit of her stomach. She forced her voice to stay deadpan, burying the spike of dread. "What are you talking about? My father is dead."

The Being tilted its head, mocking. "Is that what you were told?"

Lazaria forgot to breathe.

The battlefield vanished around her. The shouting students, the instructors, the cracked trees, even the throbbing agony in her side—all of it faded into background noise, overwhelmed by those six words.

Is that what they told you?

Her hands curled into tight fists. She frantically searched her memory, looking for a specific moment—someone sitting her down, telling her the truth of his death—and found nothing. There was only the accepted fact, handed down to her as long as she could remember. Everyone had said so. Everyone.

It doesn’t matter. It’s just trying to mess with your head.

It was working anyway.

The Being raised its sword, the dark metal drinking in the light. "Maybe you should visit him sometime." Its smile broadened into something hideous. "Don’t worry. I’ll send you to him soon... right after I cut you down."

The air grew heavy, suffocating. Dark, viscous energy gathered along the blade, twisting like thick cables as dust spun off the ground in violent gusts.

Lazaria pushed herself fully upright on shaking legs. Her left side was ruined, but her mind detached from the pain, processing it purely as tactical data. Left ribs cracked. Balance compromised. Shift weight right. Not here. Not in front of this thing.

The creature shifted its weight, spilling a wave of oppressive killing intent across the field.

Then, it lunged.

It crossed the distance in a fraction of a second, the blade swinging down in a brutal arc. Lazaria’s pupils dilated as time seemed to dial down. She read every movement: the dip of its shoulder, the trajectory of the steel, the pulse of dark mana wrapped around the blade. Left foot planted. It can’t adjust its pivot in time.

A faint, sharp smile touched her lips.

She vanished.

The broadsword shattered the empty ground where she had stood a millisecond prior, detonating the stone in a spray of shrapnel.

The creature raised its head slowly toward the sky.

"I’ve read about the undead," a voice echoed from above.

Lazaria hovered high over the crater, dark mana coiling around her outstretched palm like living smoke. Her hair and clothes whipped wildly in the draft.

"Demons are the natural predators of your kind," she said, her voice dropping to a icy whisper that carried far clearer than a shout. "You’re a Supreme Undead Emperor. Powerful, yes—but not enough."

She raised her palm toward the sky. "This is where you end. Dark Entity: Zero!"

The air around her hand distorted violently. A massive sphere of pure, unadulterated black mana coalesced above her. It wasn’t merely dark; it looked like a hole torn into the fabric of reality itself, humming with a terrifying gravitational pull. Debris, dust, and stray threads of energy spiraled upward, dragged into its void.

Everything I have left is in this spell, she thought, her pulse hammering in her ears. If it survives this, I’m done.

The creature looked up, the arrogance finally draining from its face.

She brought her hand down.

The sphere plunged into the crater, crushing the Supreme Undead Emperor into the earth. The impact detonated with catastrophic force, sending shockwaves rippling across the arena. The ancient trees surrounding the field snapped like twigs, and the golden barrier protecting the spectators groaned under the pressure.

Cracks raced across the barrier’s surface—dozens, then hundreds—until the ward shattered entirely, raining shimmering golden fragments onto the dirt.

Lazaria remained suspended in the air, chest heaving, eyes locked on the smoking crater below. Silence fell over the field. She held her hand raised, counting the agonizing seconds by her own heartbeat.

Four. Five. Six.

The smoke began to clear.

In the center of the pit, a silhouette stirred.

The Supreme Undead Emperor was still standing. Its body was horribly mangled, flesh torn and bones exposed, but the crimson glow in its eyes hadn’t faded.

"How...?" Lazaria’s breath caught in her throat. "After a strike like that?"

The creature didn’t answer right away. Slowly, a horrific, twisted grin broke across its ruined face. "Impressive..." It forced its broken spine straight with a sickening crunch. "A magnificent spell. But it takes more than raw force to destroy a Supreme Undead."

It surged upward, closing the distance in an instant.

"Lazaria!"

Theon launched himself forward, but Ifrit clamped a heavy hand onto his shoulder before he could take three steps.

"Stay back. This is her fight," Ifrit commanded.

Theon whipped his head around, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. "She’s at her limit! Look at her!"

"I see it, Master." Ifrit’s eyes remained glued to the sky. "But she needs to settle this. You heard what that beast said about her father." He cast a brief, sharp glance at Theon. "You wouldn’t walk away from that either."

Theon bit back his response, muscles rigid with helpless fury. He hated standing here, watching her bleed, but he forced himself to stop. He let out a harsh, controlled breath. "...Fine."

High above, the Undead Emperor closed in, swinging its broadsword in a brutal horizontal arc. Lazaria barely managed to bring her own blade up to parry.

The metal collided with a deafening crack. The force shuddered through her arms, rattling her teeth. Her guard collapsed instantly.

The momentum threw her backward through the canopy of a nearby oak, branches snapping like toothpicks until she slammed violently into the main trunk at the base.

She slid into the dirt, gasping for air that wouldn’t come.

A few yards away, a young student stood paralyzed, eyes wide with terror as the monster landed softly near the clearing and turned its gaze toward him.

"Run!" Lazaria choked out, trying to push herself off the tree.

The boy trembled, his boots glued to the soil.

"Get out of here!"

Nothing. Fear had completely locked his nervous system.

The creature raised its claws, stepping toward the boy.

No! Lazaria had no mana left for offensive magic, but she had one option remaining. She focused every ounce of her willpower, targeting the monster’s mind. "Mind Wipe!"

A surge of psionic force blasted out from her, slamming straight into the creature’s skull. The sudden mental overload disrupted its neural network—its brain convulsed, pressure building behind its eyes until its head literally ruptured in a gory spray.

The student recoiled, covered in ash and horror, before his legs finally remembered how to function. He turned and fled into the wood.

Lazaria leaned back against the tree, her breathing ragged, watching him go. A sudden, sharp realization cut through her exhaustion.

If I can disrupt its brain... it means its body is still driven by a conscious mind.

She looked back toward the crimson mist left behind. If it has a mind, I can rewrite it. I can take control.

A flicker of hope sparked in her chest—but it vanished as a sudden, freezing draft hit the back of her neck.

Before she could turn, a cold weight slammed through her chest.

The creature was behind her, its body already reforming from the neck up. It hadn’t needed a head to move.

SHLICK.

The broadsword pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the tree trunk.

Lazaria’s body went rigid. A choke of blood spilled past her lips. "Gh—!"

The pain was blinding, radiating through her nervous system until her fingers went numb. She stared at the blade protruding through her shoulder in disbelief. I blew its head off... how is it still moving?

"Lazaria!"

In the staging area, all restraint vanished from Theon’s face. He surged forward again, but Ifrit blocked him, planting both hands against his chest.

"Out of my way, Ifrit!" Theon snarled.

"Not yet!" Ifrit held his ground, his voice unyielding.

"She’s dying!"

"Look at her eyes, Master. She hasn’t given up." Ifrit’s gaze remained fixed on the tree line. Beside him, Silver remained dead silent, his hand resting on his hilt, watching the battlefield with silent precision.

The Undead Emperor twisted the blade deeper into the wood.

Lazaria’s back arched, and a raw, agonizing scream tore from her throat, echoing across the silent grounds.

Several instructors stepped forward, intent on stopping the match, but the sheer pressure pouring off the Emperor acted like a physical wall, forcing them back.

Leon couldn’t stand by any longer. Drawing his sidearm, he sprinted into the clearing to draw its attention.

The creature didn’t even bother to turn. It simply backhanded the air with its free arm, releasing a dense kinetic shockwave.

The invisible impact slammed Leon off his feet, launching him twenty feet across the field. He crashed hard into the dirt, coughing violently as the earth cracked beneath his back.

The Emperor finally turned its head toward him, its freshly regenerated crimson eyes cold and disgusted.

"Stay back, you miserable bastard!" Leon spat, forcing himself onto his elbows.