My monster cards can evolve infinitely.

Chapter 99 This great sir, Sylvester, will take on all of you demons alone.

The roar of Frostfang echoed through the silent forest like the horn of winter.

The winter wolf lowered its massive body slightly, its icy blue eyes fixed on the trembling bushes ahead.

It emitted a low, persistent warning growl from its throat, and white, chilling air escaped from between its sharp teeth, condensing into tiny ice crystals in the night sky.

Silves stood three steps behind Frostfang, his black robes swaying gently in the night breeze.

Deep purple eyes peered in the same direction through the shadow of the hood, their faces showing no panic, but rather a hint of interest—

That was the joy of experimental materials being delivered to one's door.

"Perfect timing," the necromancer muttered to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I was just about to go looking for you, which saves me a lot of trouble."

As he spoke, the bushes were finally torn apart completely.

The first demon emerged—it was a Primal Demon, a low-level demon of Challenge Level 1/8, its form resembling a humanoid figure haphazardly molded from rotten flesh and mud, its entire body flowing with a viscous black liquid.

Then came the second one, the third one...

The original demon, the cowardly demon, and the lesser demon—three types of lower-level demons—mixed together like a filthy tide gushing from the rifts of hell.

They spread out in the forest clearing, their murky eyes gleaming with a greedy red light in the night. At a glance, there were at least thirty of them—a standard small horde of demons.

"Heh, the lineup is quite complete." Silvers chuckled and gently raised his bonewood staff with his right hand.

The dark purple soul gem at the tip of the staff began to glow, its eerie purple light flickering like will-o'-the-wisps in the night.

He chanted incantations in a low voice, the syllables ancient and difficult to pronounce, each word carrying the weight of death and coldness.

Arcane energy began to distort and converge in the air.

Matthew's Summoning of Skeleton Warriors

With a flick of the staff, a frosty white magic circle suddenly lit up on the open ground. Complex necromantic runes flowed around the edge of the circle, emanating a chilling wave of negative energy.

Then, four figures slowly rose from the magic circle.

The first skeleton wielded a two-handed greatsword, its frame robust, with black energy threads wrapped around its joints; the second skeleton held a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, its posture steady; the third skeleton gripped a massive battle axe, the blade shrouded in a faint chill; and the fourth skeleton carried a bone bow on its back and had a quiver hanging at its waist.

The standard configuration of four skeleton warriors.

Their eyes burned with a ghostly blue flame of their souls, and they stood in neat rows before Sylvester, like well-trained soldiers.

"Go," the necromancer commanded calmly, "let me see if Master Matthew's improved work is worth the 24 silver coins in royalties."

Almost the instant the order was given, the four skeleton warriors moved.

They made no sound, no war cries, no roars, only the faint "clicking" sound of their skeletons rubbing together.

But the movements were surprisingly coordinated and efficient.

The sword-and-shield skeleton charged ahead, its shield protecting its companions behind it. The two-handed greatsword skeleton followed closely behind, its heavy footsteps sending fallen leaves flying.

The Battle Axe Skeleton and Bone Archer Skeleton are positioned on the two flanks—the Battle Axe Skeleton is responsible for flank breakthroughs, while the Bone Archer Skeleton provides ranged support from the rear.

Perfect tactical coordination.

The demon horde also launched their attack at this moment.

More than thirty lower-level demons roared shrilly as they surged toward the skeleton warrior like a black tide. Leading the charge were five primal demons, clumsily waving their claw-like hands, attempting to overwhelm their opponents with sheer numbers.

The sword-and-shield skeleton confronted the first Primal Demon.

The shield blocked, and the longsword thrust out.

The movements were concise, precise, and deadly.

The longsword pierced the primal demon's chest and emerged from its back. Black viscous fluid gushed from the wound, and the primal demon let out a shrill scream, struggling a few times before collapsing to the ground.

But even more demons have pounced.

The three demons opened their mouths wide and spewed out a foul-smelling green mist—this was their innate ability, [Foul Cloud]. Creatures within a ten-foot radius would be poisoned, become dizzy, or even die if they inhaled it.

Poisonous fog enveloped the sword-and-shield skeleton.

Then, nothing happened.

The soul fire in the skeleton warrior's eye sockets continued to burn steadily, and his skeleton remained unharmed in the poisonous fog.

Undead creature characteristics - immune toxins.

"Not bad," Silvers commented from behind, "As expected of Master Matthew's improved version, the stability of the soul fire far exceeds that of ordinary skeletons."

At this moment, the bone-bone skeleton drew back the bowstring.

It has no physical arrows, but when the bowstring is fully drawn, a black arrow condensed from dark energy automatically forms on the bone bow.

call out!

The black arrow left the bowstring, drawing a dark trail in the air.

The target is a small lesser demon that is about to unleash a small fireball.

The arrow struck the lesser demon precisely between the eyebrows, piercing through its skull.

The little demon froze, and the fireball that had just formed in its hand vanished with a "poof." Its eyes widened, seemingly unable to comprehend why a skeleton would use a bow and arrow, before it slowly collapsed.

The second arrow, the third arrow...

The Bone Archer Skeleton's firing rhythm was terrifyingly steady, firing an arrow every three seconds, each arrow taking down a demon.

Although it only targets slightly threatening targets like lesser demons, its accurate shooting has relieved a lot of pressure on the front-line skeleton warriors.

The axe-wielding skeletons unleashed a massacre from the flanks.

This skeleton has the highest strength attribute, estimated to reach 8 points, far exceeding that of ordinary demons.

Each swing of its battle axe created a whistling sound, and the chilling aura emanating from the blade slowed the movements of any demon it struck.

With a single sweep of the axe, two primal demons were cut in half at the waist.

With a backhand flick, a cowardly demon was cleaved from its chin to its head.

The battle-axe skeleton moved through the demon horde as if it were nothing, leaving limbs and severed bodies in its wake. Although occasionally a demon's claws would strike its skeleton, leaving scratches, these did not cause any real damage.

The two-handed greatsword skeleton, on the other hand, displays a different fighting style.

It has no shield, no ranged support, only a heavy greatsword and a body of hard bones.

However, its combat skills are surprisingly exquisite—it always moves at the optimal attack distance with each step, and its greatsword swings at tricky and deadly angles.

A small lesser demon spewed out an acidic liquid, attempting to corrode its skeleton.

The skeleton with the two-handed greatsword dodged to the side, and then swung the greatsword down.

The blade sliced ​​into the little demon's left shoulder, severing its spine diagonally downwards and exiting from its right side. The little demon was cleanly and decisively cut in two, its internal organs and black blood splattering all over the ground.

The four skeleton warriors, four undead creatures close to Challenge Level 1, not only did not fall behind in the siege of thirty demons, but gradually took control of the battlefield.

Their coordination was astonishing—the sword-and-shield skeleton always protected the bone-archer skeleton's firing line;

Two-handed greatsword skeletons and battle axe skeletons provide mutual cover for each other's flanks: when a skeleton is surrounded, its companions will always come to its rescue.

This is the true value of the modified spell: instead of summoning four separate skeletons, it summons a well-trained squad of undead.

But the demons outnumbered the demons.

When the skeleton warriors killed the eighth demon, the remaining demons began to change tactics.

Three lesser demons gathered together and simultaneously began chanting the obscure language of the abyss. They gestured with their hands in front of their chests, dark red energy gathering in their palms—

[Small Fireball]

Three fireballs, each the size of a fist, formed almost simultaneously and hurtled towards the Bone Archer Skeleton.

Prioritize dealing with ranged units; this is the most basic common sense in combat.

Silves raised an eyebrow but did not intervene.

He wanted to see how these expensive skeleton warriors would respond.

The sword and shield skeleton moved.

It suddenly took two steps forward, raising its shield high to block the bone archer skeleton.

Three fireballs struck the shield in succession.

boom! boom! boom!

Explosions rang out one after another, and flames erupted on the shield's surface. The surface of the bone shield was charred, and the iron plates at the edges were slightly deformed, but the bone archer skeleton behind the shield was unharmed.

Amidst the smoke and dust of the explosion, the Bone Archer Skeleton calmly drew back the bowstring.

call out!

The black arrow pierced through the smoke, striking precisely the throat of a small imp. The imp's chanting ceased abruptly, its hands futilely clutching its throat, its eyes wide as it collapsed.

The other two lesser demons panicked and tried to retreat, but the two-handed greatsword-wielding skeleton had already charged in front of them.

The greatsword swept across, and two heads flew off.

"Excellent." Silvers clapped lightly. "24 silver coins, worth it."

At this moment, Frostfang, who had been watching the battle, finally couldn't hold back any longer.

Winter Wolf let out a low growl of dissatisfaction, as if to say: Isn't it my turn now?

Silves chuckled: "Go ahead, but don't take too much."

Frostfang's icy blue eyes lit up, and its massive body suddenly charged forward.

It didn't charge in a straight line, but instead, like a ghost, it weaved through the woods several times, circling around to the flank of the demon horde.

The winter wolf stopped twenty feet away from the demon pack. Instead of immediately pouncing and tearing them apart, it slightly opened its mouth without making a sound or chanting a spell.

Only pure magic surged, converged, and condensed in the air.

An ice armor surrounded by magical power instantly took shape, and frost, like a phantom, covered the silvery-white fur of Frostfang.

The ice armor was crystal clear, gleaming with a deep blue luster under the moonlight, making the already massive body of the winter wolf look even more imposing.

Immediately afterwards, the space in front of Frostfang began to distort.

Blades of pure magic material appeared out of thin air—not one, but three, hovering in mid-air, their tips aimed at the horde of demons.

Silvers watched this scene with great interest.

Frostfang is different from the ordinary winter wolf.

Ordinary winter wolves only possess the innate ability of "Freezing Breath," which, while powerful, is ultimately limited in scope.

Frostfang, as a mutated individual carefully cultivated by the Northern Warlock family, not only possesses intelligence far exceeding that of its kind, but also has a natural mastery of various ice-based magical abilities.

【Frost Armor】 and 【Exploding Ice Blade】 are the two special abilities it awakened.

Frostfang let out a low growl.

As if receiving a command, the three icy blades shot towards the horde of demons simultaneously.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!

The sound of something cutting through the air was as dense as rain.

The ice blade shot into the horde of monsters and then exploded!

Each ice blade, upon hitting its target or reaching its maximum range, will shatter into countless tiny ice fragments that scatter in all directions.

In an instant, shards of ice blades swept across the flanks of the demon horde like a storm.

Seven or eight demons were hit.

The primal demon's muddy body was pierced and frozen by the ice blade; the cowardly demon's poison sac was punctured, and the green venom froze into ice lumps before it could even be sprayed out; the lesser demon tried to block with its weapon, but there were too many and too dense ice blade fragments, and more than a dozen bloody holes appeared on its body in an instant.

Screams echoed throughout the room.

But it's not over yet.

Frostfang pushed off the ground with its four claws, its massive body leaping into the air and landing lightly on the other side of the demon horde.

Ordinary winter wolves basically only know how to use [Freezing Breath], which is also the winter wolf's innate skill.

Frostfang certainly knows much more than this, but the [Freezing Breath] technique, which she was born with, is of course the most skillful and best used.

Frosttooth slightly opened its mouth.

Without any build-up or prelude, a massive burst of frost erupted instantly.

That wasn't the cone-shaped breath of an ordinary winter wolf, but a more concentrated, frost-white torrent.

The breath covered an area at least twenty feet in front of it, and the temperature was terrifyingly low—visible ice crystals instantly condensed in the air, and a thick layer of white frost formed on the ground the moment the breath swept over it.

Four demons, unable to dodge in time, were hit head-on.

One Primal Demon was frozen solid into an ice sculpture, frozen in place with its charging posture; the lower bodies of two Cowardly Demons were frozen, while their upper bodies struggled in vain; a Lesser Demon tried to jump away, but its legs were grazed by the frost, and it instantly lost consciousness, falling to the ground with a "thud".

Frostfang's freezing breath is far more powerful than that of a normal winter wolf.

Winter wolves burst onto the battlefield, their massive bodies charging and crashing about like chariots.

The demon's size appeared tiny and pitiful compared to it, and it was knocked around and swayed precariously. A small imp attempted a sneak attack from the side, its iron fork piercing Frostfang's abdomen with a sharp clang!

The iron fork pierced the ice armor, producing a crisp metallic clang. Fine cracks appeared on the surface of the ice armor, but were quickly repaired by magic.

Frostfang didn't even turn around; with a flick of its tail, it sent the little demon flying several feet.

Another imp, preparing a small fireball, caught Frostfang's attention.

Winter Wolf turned its head, its icy blue eyes locking onto its target.

Instead of using its breath, it suddenly accelerated forward and leaped up when it was three steps away from the lesser demon.

The little demon panicked and tried to retreat, but it was too late.

Frostfang's enormous head emerged, its gaping maw snapping open to precisely bite the little demon's waist.

With a "crack," the sound of a rib breaking was clearly audible.

Then Frostfang flicked his head, tossing the little imp into the air. The poor imp flew in an arc, soaring twenty feet into the air, before crashing heavily to the ground.

boom!

Dust flew everywhere.

The little demon twitched twice and then went still. Judging from its contorted posture and the bloodstains spreading beneath it, its spine must have been broken.

Simple, direct, and efficient.

Frostfang moved across the battlefield as if it were empty land; wherever he went, demons were either killed or wounded.

While its coordination with the four skeleton warriors wasn't exactly perfect, it at least didn't interfere with each other. The skeletons focused on the front and flanks, while Frostfang roamed around reaping kills, specifically targeting those who tried to escape or cast spells.

The battle began with a one-sided affair.

More than thirty demons posed no real threat to four skeleton warriors near Challenge Level 1 and a mutated winter wolf at least Challenge Level 3.

Silves didn't even go on the field himself.

He stood on the edge of the battlefield, his black robe swaying gently in the night wind, like an elegant spectator enjoying a wonderful performance.

Occasionally, demons would attempt to bypass the battlefield and ambush him, but before they could even get within ten paces, they would be dealt with by the black arrows of the Bone Archer Skeleton or the ice blades of Frostfang.

"Not bad in practice." The necromancer muttered to himself, taking out a notebook and quill from his robes and beginning to record. "The skeleton warrior is immune to poison, has moderate fire resistance, and excellent physical defense... Frostfang's Rain of Ice Blades has a significant area-of-effect attack, but it consumes a lot of mana..."

'

He observed and recorded as he went, treating the battle as a data collection site for experiments.

Ten minutes later, the last demon fell.

It was a small lesser demon that tried to escape, but was struck in the back by a battle axe thrown by the battle axe skeleton and pinned to the ground.

In the clearing in the woods, more than thirty demon corpses lay scattered about.

Black, green, and dark red blood mixed together, forming eerie patches of color under the moonlight.

The air was filled with a nauseating mixture of sulfur, rotting flesh, and blood.

Four skeleton warriors stood amidst a pile of corpses, their skeletons bearing numerous scratches and charred marks, yet the soul fire in their eyes remained steadfast.

Frostfang returned to Silves's side, its ice armor dissipating, leaving traces of blood on its silvery-white fur. It lowered its head and nuzzled its master's hand, letting out a satisfied purr, as if seeking praise.

Silvers put away his notebook and patted Frosttooth's big head: "Well done."

Then he walked toward the demon corpses and tapped them lightly with his staff.

A dark purple light emanated from the Soul Gem, enveloping the nearest lesser demon corpse.

A few seconds later, a dark red orb the size of an egg floated out of the corpse and slowly flew into the gem at the top of the staff.

Demonic soul.

Valuable experimental material for necromancers.

Following the same method, Sylvester collected the souls of more than thirty demons.

The light within the Soul Gem intensified, as if countless tormented faces were struggling deep within the gem.

Wailing.

"A very fruitful harvest," Silvers nodded in satisfaction.

He turned to leave, but just then the entire forest suddenly began to shake.

It wasn't a slight tremor of the ground, but a violent shaking as if a thousand horses were galloping!

From the depths of the woods a hundred meters ahead, came a chilling array of footsteps, roars, and the crackling of trees breaking.

The sound grew louder and louder as it approached, as if an army were charging at full speed.

Frostfang instantly entered battle mode, his ice armor covering his entire body once more, and a threatening growl emanated from his throat.

The four skeleton warriors adjusted their formation, with the sword-and-shield skeleton in front and the other three behind, ready for battle.

Silves slowly turned around, his deep purple eyes looking in the direction from which the sound came.

Beneath the hood, a genuine smile of excitement curved his lips.

"It's getting interesting."

He spoke softly, his tone devoid of any panic, but rather filled with anticipation that the show was finally about to begin.

The forest ahead seemed to have been torn apart by an invisible giant hand, with swathes of trees falling to both sides.

Then, demons surged forth.

It's not thirty, it's not fifty.

It was a dark, dense mass, like a black tide bursting its banks, instantly filling the entire forest clearing.

Original demons, cowardly demons, lesser demons... densely packed, at least a hundred of them.

At the very rear of the demon horde, a new figure appeared—

A demon six feet tall with dark red skin like congealed blood, its back covered in thorny bone plates, and its hands wielding two curved bone blades.

Thorn Demon.

Challenge a level 2 lower-level elite demon.

Silves narrowed his eyes.

A massive surge of demonic energy erupted from deep purple fireworks, a desperate cry for help blared red, and now, before them stood an army of a Thorn Demon and over a hundred lower-ranking demons...

"It seems the 13th Regiment has been completely wiped out," the necromancer calmly analyzed. "Then, it's our turn next."

Frostfang let out a deafening roar, its icy blue eyes fixed on the Thorn Demon.

Silves' face remained calm.

Even more pronounced was that cold smile.

"It's getting interesting."

The black-robed mage murmured to himself, and the bone and wood staff in his hand once again glowed with a ghostly purple light.

This time, the light was more intense and deeper than before.

The four skeleton warriors turned around simultaneously, facing the direction from which the tremor came, their eyes burning with the flames of their souls.

On the surface of the ice armor surrounding the winter wolf, pale blue runes began to flow faster, and the temperature in the air dropped sharply again.

Silves took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

The white fog condensed in the cold air.

His eyes became like the coldest stars in a winter night.

"Let me see..." The necromancer's voice could be clearly heard in the trembling forest, "What kind of trash has come this time?"