Dark Wizard: Rise! My undead army!

"This...how is this possible..." he murmured, his voice trembling slightly.

Before he could figure it out, a colossal creature, ten meters tall, emerged from the shadows at the entrance of the mine.

Flame Demon...

It looked up at the group of intruders, a hint of disdain flashing in its eyes.

Behind him, hundreds of demons and undead of various shapes swarmed out.

Lava Trolls, Abyssal Lurkers, Pain Weavers, Ashbat Swarms...

Various demons roared and surrounded the bandit gang.

"Damn insects!" The Balrog's deep roar echoed through the valley.

"You dare to come here? You've got a death wish?"

Before the words were even finished, it opened its enormous maw, and abyssal evil fire surged forth!

The eerie green flames swept across like a tidal wave, and the three mercenaries were instantly reduced to charred remains before they could even scream.

The orc roared and charged forward with his axe, only to be swatted away by the Balrog's claw, crashing into the rock wall and shattering his bones instantly.

The centaur's arrow struck the Balrog, only to be incinerated by the flames, and the Balrog was then engulfed by a pillar of lava that spewed out from its backhand.

The troll tried to turn and run away, but was pounced on by two abyssal lurkers from the shadows, their claws tearing open his throat, and he collapsed to the ground convulsing.

The battle... or rather the massacre, lasted less than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea.

Of the more than twenty bandits, most were killed or wounded, and the rest lay limp on the ground, held down by the demons and undead with their claws and tentacles.

The leader, a first-ring wizard, was charred black and lay on the ground convulsing, his eyes filled with despair.

Why?!

Why are there cataclysmic undead here?!

It's still the powerful Balrog!

His sorcery was child's play against the Balrog; he didn't even have a chance to escape...

The Flame Demon slowly walked up to him, looking down at the "insect" that dared to offend him, and let out a low sneer.

"With this little strength, who gave you the audacity?"

...

Inside the mine fortress, Lynn stood by the window, quietly observing the battle situation at the valley entrance.

He had sensed the presence of this group long ago.

From the moment they stepped into the mining area, the Shadowflies sent back information.

But he did not act immediately; instead, he observed quietly.

A first-ring rogue wizard, leading a motley crew, dares to raid the official headquarters of the Bone Spire?

Lynn frowned slightly.

This amount of power was far too meager for him.

Are these people out of their minds? Or do they have something to rely on?

Are these people just scouts testing the waters? Is there a larger force behind them?

With that in mind, Lynn cautiously took out the communication stone and sent a signal to Haske at the Soul-Sinking Outpost.

The mine has been attacked; please be on alert.

Then, he ordered the Flame Demon to take action and wipe out the "vanguard" with lightning speed, while he himself remained on high alert to guard against any possible accidents.

As he predicted, the result was a crushing defeat.

And then... that was it...

Everything around was calm and peaceful, and the shadowy flying insects spread outwards, but nothing unusual was found.

Could this group of people be the entire force?

When the Balrog dragged the charred wizard in front of him, Lynn looked down at this arrogant fellow with disbelief in his eyes.

"Is this all you have? No backup? No main force?"

The wizard collapsed to the ground, trembling, and begged incoherently, "My lord, spare me! My lord, spare me! It's just us... really just us!"

"I was momentarily blinded by greed, thinking... thinking you weren't here and the defenses were weak, I wanted to steal some ore and run away... Please, sir, spare my life!"

Lynn was silent for a moment, then suddenly felt that he was being ridiculous.

Caution is a good thing, but sometimes... it really is too much.

I have no idea how this person advanced to become a formal wizard; it's utterly foolish.

Lynn waved his hand, signaling the Balrog to drag the surviving aliens and humans aside.

The wizard's mottled soul was extracted on the spot. This kind of thing wasn't worth much, so he would just use it to fill the second main soul.

As for those apprentices, mercenaries, orcs, centaurs, trolls...

Lynn crouched down, activated [Analysis], and scanned the body structure and energy flow of these alien races one by one.

Orcs have twice the muscle fiber density of humans and thicker bones, but their blood and energy circulation is crude, making precise control almost impossible.

The core of the centaur lies in its hybrid human-horse body structure, with a cleverly designed balance between speed and power, though unfortunately he can't use it for the time being.

The troll's self-healing ability is quite interesting.

The severed limbs are slowly regenerating; if the relevant genes are extracted, they might be used to enhance certain undead.

He was engrossed in his study, while the demons and undead beside him obediently held down the prisoners, not daring to make a sound to disturb him.

After completing his study, Lynn rose and delivered the final verdict on the surviving prisoners.

Those with value will be kept for now; those without value will have their souls extracted to fill the second main soul, and their corpses left for Brother A to devour.

The soul of the first-ring wizard was directly thrown into the pale gray mist based on Morpheus's soul essence.

The fog churned slightly, absorbing the nutrients and becoming more solid than before.

By the time Haske arrived with his men, Lynn had already finished dealing with the situation...

...

Five months later.

Life in the Shadow Mine returned to normal.

Arya stood at the window of the fortress, gazing at the gray sky in the distance, remaining silent for a long time.

Her hand rested lightly on the windowsill, her fingertips slightly white.

It's been five months.

There is absolutely no news about Lin Chen.

During this time, she also checked information about the River Styx through her family and learned about its dangers and the extremely slim chances that the child might survive.

But every time she wakes up in the middle of the night, she can always see those eyes like a sea of ​​stars, and that small figure reaching out to her.

That night, she went to Lynn's room.

"Mentor..." she said softly, her head bowed.

"Lin Chen... he's probably in grave danger."

Lynn looked up at her but didn't say anything.

"I think..."

Arya bit her lip, raised her head, and her eyes held a complex light.

"I want another child, a child who can grow up well."

Lynn was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"No need, I will continue searching for Lin Chen."

His tone was calm, without blame or comfort; he was simply stating a fact.

Arya paused, a hint of sadness flashing in her eyes, but she quickly lowered her head and whispered, "Yes... I understand."

She turned and left, her steps light, but her back looked somewhat frail.

Lynn watched her figure disappear outside the door before turning his gaze away.

He could understand her feelings; after losing Lin Chen, she wanted to fill the void with a new child.

But for him, children are not tools to fill a void.

Lin Chen is Lin Chen; he is special, and no other child can replace him.