A smirk played at the corner of Punk's mouth, his figure in the dim robes exuding a presence more eerie than the undead surrounding him. The massive brown bear beside him shrank back instinctively, lowering its head in silent submission.
The sword-wielding skeleton warrior surged forward, closing over five meters in just two steps. A black blur streaked through the air, and in the blink of an eye, the undead was upon Punk, its long sword raised high, wreathed in eerie black life force.
One final step—and it would cleave down upon him—
But Punk's spell was already complete.
The apprentice-level summoning spell—Summon Beast activated with precise timing.
From a glowing magic circle, a towering brown bear emerged, blocking the skeleton warrior's charge. The beast stood over three meters tall, its thick fur impervious to lesser attacks, its glistening fangs and razor-sharp claws poised for battle.
Muscles rippled beneath its hide as it let loose a deafening roar, a force of pure, savage strength.
The skeleton warrior, though retaining some muscle memory from its former life, lacked the coordination of intelligence. Its reflexes lagged behind its limbs.
When faced with the sudden appearance of a massive creature, it hesitated.
Unable to halt its momentum, the undead slammed directly into the bear, rebounding from the impact and tumbling backward in an uncontrolled heap.
The summoned bear, operating on its primal instincts, let out another excited roar and lunged forward, eager to finish off its fallen prey.
Punk, however, stopped it with a sharp command.
"Did you not see the horde of skeletons over there? You want to drag all of them into this fight?"
He frowned.
While the bear was an excellent meat shield, it was far from an intelligent companion. Without explicit orders, it would act purely on instinct—useful in battle, but not always in the way he wanted.
As the fallen skeleton warrior attempted to rise, Punk unleashed another Minor Catapult spell.
This time, with the system correcting the projectile's trajectory, the attack struck true.
The enchanted stone shot directly into the skeleton's eye socket, piercing the dim soul flame within. That weak, flickering light—already fragile—shattered under Punk's magic.
The lingering black aura surrounding its blade dissipated entirely, and the undead collapsed, reduced to nothing more than a lifeless pile of bones.
On the other side of the battlefield, the priest was engaged in her own fight.
The Holy Light she wielded coalesced into a radiant hammer, striking the skeleton warrior from multiple angles like a divine forge.
Soon, the undead crumbled into pieces, utterly vanquished.
However, Punk's eyes twitched in irritation.
The priest's reckless barrage had severely damaged the armor on the skeleton, rendering it nearly worthless.
"Damn wasteful woman," he muttered under his breath.
The armor she had just ruined was valuable—it could have fetched a good price. But now, distorted and barely recognizable, it could only be salvaged for raw materials.
At best, one-fifth of its original value remained.
But before Punk could dwell on his frustration—
A new threat emerged.
As the priest's Holy Light Warhammer descended for the final, purifying strike, the skeleton warrior's soul flame suddenly flared—
A dying ember erupting into a blinding green blaze.
A silent, unearthly howl of despair and fury rippled outward, an undetectable scream resonating directly in the souls of the living.
And the forest responded.
One by one, the undead stirred.
Dim flames reignited in their sockets, glowing with cold, vengeful hunger. Hundreds of skeletons turned their hollow gazes toward Punk and the priest.
For a moment—
The entire forest fell into an eerie silence.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped—
The undead charged.
The first skeleton lunged toward the priest, and in an instant, the rest followed, launching a relentless assault.
Now realizing the gravity of the situation, the priest abandoned any lingering thoughts of battle.
"I will return! Under the witness of the Lord of Dawn, I swear I will purify these foul undead!"
Determined to retreat, she turned to flee—
But she never got the chance.
"My righteous priestess," Punk's voice drifted from the shadows, cold and amused.
"How could a devoted believer abandon their duty so easily? Allow me to help you stand firm in the face of evil."
At that moment, thick vines burst from the ground, coiling around the priest's legs and rooting her in place.
She stumbled in shock.
"You—are you insane?! Now of all times—!"
She barely had time to react before a third-level skeleton warrior lunged at her.
Panicked, she activated a defensive spell from her robe, shielding herself just in time.
Rage flickered in her eyes as she turned to Punk, confusion quickly morphing into betrayal.
But Punk paid her no mind.
He and his summoned bear stood there, shrouded in an unnatural stillness.
Under the influence of a subtle magical fluctuation, the aura of a wizard had completely disappeared from him.
And because of that—
Not a single undead pursued him.
The horde rushed past, ignoring Punk entirely, as if he were nothing more than a shadow among the dead.
"Apprentice-level Conjuration—Breath Concealment. Truly the best disguise spell at this level."
A wicked grin stretched across Punk's face, his robed figure blending into the eerie, corpse-laden forest.
Beside him, the giant brown bear instinctively lowered its head, too afraid to meet its master's gaze.