From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 457 Barthazar
The Night Judges emerging from the trembling vortex of shadows were not living beings, but merely empty armor. However, this did not mean these warriors were useless or merely for show.

The Night Judge's scimitar can easily slice through the iron armor of the skeleton soldiers, while he uses the divine magic of Shar's Blessing for both attack and defense.

Balthazar's skeleton soldiers are fearless and unaffected by morale, making them excellent supply lines. However, in the battle against the Night Judge, they are consistently at a disadvantage, only able to barely withstand the Night Judge's offensive by relying on terrain advantages and support from the rear.

In this way, the adventurers standing on the other side of the hall became the sole force that determined the outcome of the battle.

The ghost clad in the armor of the Night Judge still possessed consciousness and could even loudly taunt Balthazar, a follower of Melkor, but it failed to accurately identify another follower of Shar in the crowd.

They even launched an attack on her immediately.

The battlefield doesn't give Shadowheart much time to think things through, but believing in Shar never means being willing to submit to an enemy who launches an attack, even if the enemy is the Dark Judge representing Shar's will.

The adamantine shield bounced back and forth in front of the Night Judge's breastplate, disrupting the offensive rhythm of several enemies.

The paladin's longsword darted left and right, but Minsara, relying on the superior defense of his adamantite armor, ignored his opponent's attacks and then launched a golden slash during the gaps in the defense.

The Archmage of Waterdeep's Chain Lightning leaped between several Night Judges, giving these long-dead undead a shock of electricity strong enough to make their hearts beat again.

Karak intended to use her most proficient attack method against the Night Judges on the battlefield—wielding one enemy as a weapon to attack another. Unfortunately, the Night Judges' armor was not very sturdy without a physical body to support it, so before Karak could even finish her throwing motion, she was left with only a rusty scale armor boot in her hand.

The adventurers maintained a firm grip on the rhythm of the battle, forcing Balthazar's undead soldiers to endure the most enemy attacks.

After all the shadow portals were shattered by the tracer bullets thrown by Shadowheart, the number of undead soldiers was reduced to less than one-tenth. On the floor of the stone chapel, various armor and bone fragments were scattered.

“I’m starting to believe that you’ve completed your mission, rather than deserting your post, Minsara.”

The space occupied by Basazar should belong to the chapel in the Temple of the Iron Hand, where there are long stone benches lying on the ground everywhere, and a stone pulpit stands in the center of the front part of the chapel.

At this moment, the circular door behind the podium separated with a rumbling scraping sound, and the necromancer's distinctive tomb stench mixed with the stench of corpses rushed out.

Balthazar, the obese undead creature with a six-pointed star scar on his cheek, emerged from within. His entire body had long since turned into a decaying gray-black, and the ominous magic surging from him clearly conveyed one message—this follower of Melkor was no longer alive.

Besides Katheric's necromancer advisor, there were four other figures standing in the room: three upright-walking ghouls and a tall, assembled undead creature that Zeril had mentioned before.

"It seems your mission didn't go very smoothly," Minsara said with a mocking expression. "Just some wandering spirits trapped in metal armor, and you've been stuck here for months?"

“Don’t even think about provoking me, Minsara.” Basazar’s tone was calm, but anyone could hear the anger he was trying so hard to hide. “Everything here is under control! You and Zeril are just jealous of General Somme’s trust in me, while I’m brewing a much grander strategy.”

"A grand strategy easily thwarted by a group of shadows?" Minsara persisted, which was one of the adventurers' goals: to uncover more secrets about Balthazar and Katheric Som.

“Nonsense! Besides these wandering spirits of Shar followers who have been entrenched here, there’s another monster lurking deep within the temple! He’s the one blocking my way to collect the spoils.” Balthazar’s scars rippled with his shouts, revealing yellow fat and pink muscle. Ivy saw him order a ghoul, “You, go get the liver! Don’t let me see any bite marks on it!”

Low-level.

This was Ivy's first reaction upon seeing Balthazar commanding the undead. If communicating with outsiders through his skeletons could be considered a flexible application of necromancy, then Balthazar's way of giving orders to his ghoul assistants was simply a regression to the most primitive state.

As a follower of Melkor, Balthazar was deemed unqualified by Ivy.

“A monster?” Minsara asked with displeasure. “You’ve been here for so long and haven’t even seen a monster’s face? Or have all your attempts been in vain? If that’s the case, then it seems I must report your incompetence to General Som.”

"I have a more important experiment here! True Soul Minsara!" Balthazar's shattered face was practically squeezing out all the fat. "The monster deep within the temple is a Blood Armored Demon, accompanied by a group of Legion Demons. The reason they're still intact in the temple is because the progress of my experiment is directly related to General Som's plan!"

"Enough with the nonsense, Minsara!" Balthazar stopped the drow elf from asking further questions. "Let me get your arms and legs some work done! Our interests are aligned, aren't they?"

"Your notes mention something called the Song of the Night," Minsara asked. "Is it in this temple?"

“Interesting…” Basazar’s wounds stretched into an ugly gaping hole along with his mouth. “Those are private letters…Give me a reason not to kill you, thief.”

“If you have any objections, you can go back to the Tower of the Moonrise and speak to Zeril.” Minsara displayed the drow elves’ talent for intrigue and scheming, attempting to sow discord between the two True Souls. “My orders are to take over your work.”

“Zeril has overstepped his authority—no one except the general himself and I has the right to enter my room!” Balthazar’s frequent changes of expression had begun to cause pus to seep from the wounds on his face, hanging below his eyelids like two strange tear tracks.

“I will settle those scores with her, but not now,” Balthazar continued. “Go and use your drowsy nature to find the Nightsong beneath the temple and bring it to the general. It is my finest creation, lending the general invulnerability and unparalleled power. I must reclaim it before his enemies try to exploit it!”

“The Song of the Night wasn’t recently placed in this temple,” Minsara asked impatiently. “How did you use it before?”

“I was right, Minsara, you are indeed a drow who knows a lot.” Basazar chuckled softly, his laughter no more pleasant than the wailing of a vulture.

"Before becoming the chosen people of the Most Holy God, the General was the commander of Shar—I know many of you are talking about this. But it doesn't matter, words are like the wind, they can't move a mountain."

“This temple is a training ground for the Night Judges. Those who pass the trials receive a Shadow Orb, and collecting three Shadow Orbs allows them to reach the final trial ground, which is also the secret vault where the Song of the Night is stored. Shar's domain, the Fallen Shadow Realm.” Balthazar was pleased with the shocked expression on Mingsara's face. “The final trial of the Night Judges—killing a follower of Serenne?” Shadowheart was answering her own question, but her voice was loud enough for everyone present to hear.

“That’s right!” Balthazar’s face lit up with excitement. “If we didn’t have a difference of stance, I would have quite a fondness for the trials of the followers of Shar. I created a target that the Goddess of Darkness could use repeatedly, enjoying watching her followers torture it, tear it to pieces, burn it to ashes, and watch its skin crumble and crack inch by inch. Ah… what a sweet feeling. Even now, I still miss those good old days.”

"But everything is irreversible..." Balthazar's reminiscence had ended, and all the adventurers now knew the truth.

Imprisoned at the very bottom of the temple by Balthazar and Ketheric was an immortal Serenne follower.

Whenever a Night Judge of Sha'r is born from the Temple of Iron Hand, he plunges his scimitar into the chest of Nightsong, or smashes its head with a mace.

After so many years of torment, it's hard to imagine what the Serengeti believer was going through.

“Nothing is immortal…” Minsara was shocked, but she still didn’t forget her mission. “You turned the Nightsong into an undead creature?”

"Hahahaha..." Basazar burst into laughter, more foul-smelling pus gushing from the wounds on his face. "Brilliant! Minsara! How come I didn't think of that? I should have turned Nightsong into an undead creature!"

“Before the answer is fully revealed, please allow me to save some fun.” Balthazar wiped the pus from his face with his wide sleeve. “Once we reach the deepest part of the temple, I will invite you to witness that moment with me. I believe that with your abilities, you will soon be able to complete General Somme’s mission, won’t you?”

Before Minsara could answer, the tall, assembled undead standing beside Basazar uttered a mutter of confusion and complaint.

Every part of that guy's body was carefully selected by Basazar, using the most functional parts from ordinary people to ensure excellent overall performance.

To enhance the combat capabilities of the assembled undead, Balthazar replaced his arms, which were almost dangling to the ground, with a mace and a scythe.

“Please forgive me.” Barthazar politely apologized for the strange noises coming from the assembled undead. “My brother is not a man of great intelligence, but he is strong, loyal, and punctual. He is almost my most perfect creation—second only to the Song of the Night.”

“Yes, I know that very well.” Gale nodded in agreement. “Even the most perfect creations sometimes have flaws. That’s a common trait among all mages, isn’t it, Ivy?”

“Ah… I prefer to improve and upgrade as needed…” Ivy glanced at Gale’s hand hidden behind his back, and at the spell model that was already completed in his hand, which was emitting a pale purple magical light. “But you’re right, it is indeed time.”

"That's what I've been waiting for you to say." Gale breathed a sigh of relief. Maintaining the spell model without releasing it was not an easy task for an archmage like him.

As Gale activated the illusion magic in his hands, the already low-intelligence, assembled undead immediately entered battle mode. It roared angrily, swung its arms to attack the non-existent phantom, and watched with delight as the enemy in front of it instantly disintegrated.

A large amount of foul-smelling blood spurted from the obese body. Standing right in front of his bodyguard, Basazar flew out with a bewildered look on his face and crashed heavily against the stone wall on the side of the room, leaving a large stain.

"Concentrate your forces to kill the necromancer; his creations are nothing to fear." Ivy gave a clear order, and then used telekinesis to close the circular stone door, keeping Balthazar's undead soldiers out.

Shoot men and horses, capture thieves and capture their king.

Even if these two idioms don't exist on the continent of Faerûn, the principles of combat are still quite similar.

No one questioned Ivy's orders, and the evil thoughts had already reached Balthazar's side, using a rapier and a hidden blade to cut open numerous wounds on his deathly gray body, exposing yellow fat.

Balthazar's ghoul assistant was still secretly enjoying the liver used as material for necromancy when Karak grabbed him by the arm and threw him away.

The mace, stained with its brother's blood, shoved the ghoul's head into its chest and began indiscriminate destruction.

The divine power summoned by Shadowheart responded from the void, transforming into holy fire that descended from the sky, turning the assembled undead into a tall, humanoid torch.

"I've cut off Balthazar's head!" The evil desire to kill was rising, and he kicked over Balthazar's headless corpse.

Something unexpected happened to Ivy: the undead creatures that hadn't been torn apart by the adventurers weren't collapsing like rotten flesh, but were still fighting.

The assessment of Barzagli needs to be revised.

He is a qualified follower of Melkor.

The assembled undead and ghouls in the room weren't the kind of undead creatures that shared the fate of the necromancer, but rather independent individuals, like undead creatures born under the influence of environmental factors. If this technology could be widely adopted, it would be another technology with war potential.

Even now, Ivy cannot completely free the undead creatures she summons from her magical control. This is because, generally speaking, such an operation would only cause the undead to scatter and rebel.

But the fact that Balthazar actually found a way to make undead creatures who hate the living obey him is indeed a research achievement worth packaging.

Unfortunately, as a follower of Melkor, Balthazar's soul automatically fell into the hands of the god of the dead after his death; otherwise, Ivy would have given him a good beating.

(End of this chapter)