What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 10 The Skeleton Warrior Buried with Us

The first Lord of Death, Yeg.

This deity, who existed in ancient Netheril, was a powerful force that controlled death, murder, and strife.

Later, its authority was divided into three, creating the three gods of death we know today.

"So, this used to be the monastery of Death, Jaeger!"

Avel's crimson eyes revealed surprise.

Feeling the aura of deathly order, Richard's body instinctively felt a sense of rejection.

"Be careful, that priest didn't just wander in here for no reason."

When the four of them pushed open the oak door carved with skulls, the sight that greeted them made them stop in their tracks.

The enormous church is circular, with a diameter of over fifty feet.

The dome is soaring high, with a long-extinguished sacred flame chandelier hanging in the center. Below the chandelier, seven stone pillars are arranged in a circle, each engraved with a death proverb from the Jaggi Bible.

The most striking feature is the enormous stone coffin in the center of the church.

The coffin was about ten feet long and six feet wide, and was carved entirely from pale white marble.

The pastor stood in front of the coffin.

He had his back to everyone, and his dark priest's robes fluttered slightly in the eerie wind that seemed to come from nowhere.

He placed the clever treasure chest at his feet, its lid open.

Hearing footsteps behind him, the pastor slowly turned around.

The panic he had shown during his escape was gone from his face.

On the contrary, a kind of fanatical calm flickered in his deep-set eyes, and a strange smile even hung at the corner of his mouth.

"What conspiracy is the Zentalin group plotting to besiege Blackrock Town?!"

Seeing that the priest had nowhere to escape, Kro stepped forward and questioned him.

The black-robed priest did not answer; his sinister gaze swept over the crowd, making them feel uneasy.

A hoarse laugh, like sandpaper scraping, echoed in the empty church, the voice carrying a cryptic meaning.

"The lion chased the fox, unaware that it had already fallen into a deadly trap!"

Richard frowned slightly.

His intuition told him that something was wrong with this pastor.

The black-robed priest bent down and took out an item from the magic chest. It was not the magical artifact he had imagined, but a pale human finger bone with a dark red crystal embedded at the end.

He raised his finger bones high above his head, chanting loudly, his eyes revealing madness.

That was neither the common language nor the language of the abyss, but a more ancient and chilling language of the dead.

The stone coffin lid trembled continuously as the incantation was chanted, and suddenly it was completely blown off by an invisible force!

The heavy coffin lid tumbled through the air, crashing into a nearby stone pillar and shattering with a crash.

What emerged from inside the coffin was neither the corpse nor the treasure as one might expect, but a thick, almost tangible, ghostly mist!

A dark mist billowed and spread from the coffin, quickly enveloping the entire church.

The moment the mist touched their skin, everyone felt a bone-chilling, deathly cold, as if countless icy fingers were touching their souls.

Even more terrifying were the eerie cries that echoed from within the fog.

It was like the wailing of countless overlapping, painful, and resentful souls.

The sounds came from all directions, as if the souls accumulated in the entire monastery over hundreds of years had been awakened at this moment.

The scattered bones in the corner of the church began to tremble.

Pale finger bones gripped the ground, arm bones supported the decaying torso, and the dust-covered head slowly rose.

Skeletons, in extremely twisted and bizarre postures, awoke from centuries of deathly silence.

A ghostly green soul fire burned within the hollow eye sockets, its light cold and thirsty.

They were covered in rusted but structurally intact studded light armor, held hard-headed warhammers, and even had fragments of broken helmets remaining on their skulls.

They must have been soldiers buried with the deceased.

"Damn it!"

"He has awakened the dead!"

The drow mage cursed under his breath as he watched the skeleton soldiers constantly closing in on him.

"Prepare for battle!"

Kro raised his fine iron longsword high, the blessing of the sacred weapon enveloping the blade and radiating a dazzling light.

"Supreme Saint Slash!"

First-circle Paladin Spell

This is the Paladin's core damage-dealing spell, adding massive amounts of radiant damage to weapon attacks.

Adventurers have jokingly referred to the Paladin class as a ruthless launcher of the Holy Slash.

Paladin Kro stepped forward, his fine iron longsword, imbued with the power to purify evil, slashing towards the nearest skeleton warrior.

clang!!!

A deafening clang of metal colliding!

The longsword struck the skeleton's shoulder armor, sending sparks flying!

Unexpectedly, when Kro slashed down with his sword, the usually invincible Holy Slash only left a deep sword mark on the skeleton's bones, failing to exert much power.

The skeleton wasn't even knocked back; it merely swayed before raising its hard-headed hammer and slamming it down on Kro's head.

Kro narrowly dodged to the side, the hammerhead grazing the edge of his armor before slamming into the ground, shattering the stone slab beneath his feet.

Meanwhile, the thief Maurice also found himself in trouble.

He moved through the skeletons like a ghost, his poisoned dagger tracing deadly arcs.

When the blade pierced the gap between the skull's ribs, it was like piercing oil-soaked leather—completely ineffective.

Worse still, the poison on the dagger was completely ineffective against the undead skeletons!

He tried shooting with a crossbow, and the bolt did indeed pierce the light armor and embed itself in the bone.

But the skeleton merely glanced down at the arrow in its chest and continued forward, as if it were nothing more than a harmless mosquito bite.

The thief was forced to retreat, and the edge of his cloak was torn open by the claws of a skeleton.

"Damn it, these undead are immune to stabs!"

Amid the chaos, Richard remained calm and observant.

He did not act rashly, but stood in a relatively safe position, his eyes quickly scanning the battlefield.

His eyes lit up when he saw a skeleton warrior easily smash a skeleton blocking his way with a hard-headed hammer.

To verify his hypothesis, Richard conjured a bright light with his hands and threw a punch at the oncoming skeleton warrior.

The undead skeleton, immune to slashing and piercing, had its skull shatter, cracks spreading like a spider web throughout its chest cavity, and bone fragments flying everywhere.

The soul fire in the skull's eyes flickered violently before going out, and the entire skeleton collapsed to the ground with a crash, turning back into a pile of dry bones.

efficient!

This is their weakness.

"Pick up the hammer on the ground; these undead skeletons are vulnerable to blunt force damage!"

Seeing this, Kro immediately changed tactics.

Instead of discarding the longsword, he flipped his wrist and used the flat surface of the blade as a blunt weapon to smash it hard against the head of another skeleton!

boom!

The skull shattered, and the soul fire dissipated.

The thief followed the advice, abandoned his dagger, and picked up a short-handled warhammer that had been dropped by some unknown skeleton.

The hammerhead is made of solid cast iron, which makes it somewhat difficult for thieves to use, but they can still manage to swing it easily.

The thief's agile movements, combined with the impact of his warhammer, allowed him to smash the spine of the skeleton warrior in front of him.

Aiver provided support from the rear.

He stopped trying to use fire arrows, as they had limited effect on the undead skeletons enhanced by negative energy.

Instead, they began chanting an oil spell, creating a large, slippery area on the ground to slow down the encirclement of the skeletons.

The battle situation has temporarily stabilized.

The black-robed priest who had instigated all of this was now standing beside the coffin, silently watching the battle.

His body was also constantly changing.

The skin began to turn grayish-white and dry, like dehydrated leather.

In the deep-set eye sockets, the light that originally belonged to the living gradually dimmed, and was replaced by two eerie green soul flames.