Wizard: I Have a World of the Dead

With the addition of Lich One, Lynch's strength was greatly enhanced once again.

While both skeleton warriors and skeleton archers are powerful, they primarily rely on single-target attacks, resulting in a relatively narrow attack range.

The lich is different; a single fireball can instantly kill an enemy several meters in diameter.

Especially in this kind of undead horde, it's practically the same as throwing a grenade into a crowd.

It has to be said that magic is indeed much more useful on the battlefield.

Another point worth mentioning is that undead creatures are all immortal and tireless, and the lich is no exception.

Skeleton warriors do not feel tired, and liches do not suffer from mental exhaustion.

As long as Lynch, their master, doesn't fall, these undead will continue to fight endlessly, without end.

He led his lich squad through Stormwind, rampaging through the city.

Churches, towers, streets, houses...

All the spirits that came into view were wiped out by Lin Qi.

Tired—

The undead don't get tired, but he can't.

Although he only experienced the initial thrill of charging into battle, he subsequently remained behind the scenes, directing the undead in combat.

However, running around like this while wearing heavy armor for a long time was becoming quite tiring.

At this point, he would find some houses that had been emptied of the dead and return to Wallenberg.

Take a hot bath, enjoy some Margaret's desserts, or even have a good night's sleep.

After a hearty meal and plenty of rest, they will return to the Land of the Dead to continue their battle.

After three days of continuous sweeping back and forth, Lin Qi finally wiped out the last gathering place of the undead in the city on the evening of the third day.

Standing on the deserted street littered with scattered bones, Lin Qi was still mindful of his surroundings.

This main street, once teeming with the dead, is now as quiet as a true dead city.

Broken bones covered every inch of the ground, stretching from the street corner to the horizon in a thick layer that crunched underfoot.

The bone fragments gleamed a ghastly white under the blood moonlight, as if a heavy snow had just fallen.

Within sight, not a single standing ghost could be seen.

"There shouldn't be any more, right?"

Lynch's voice echoed through the empty streets.

He shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts.

Even if some escaped the net, it wouldn't be a big deal and wouldn't affect his main project that he was going to push forward next.

hero!

Lynch's gaze swept across the street towards the gates of Stormwind, his eyes gleaming with excitement: "The time to recruit heroes has finally arrived!"

We walked through the long street and arrived at the gates of Stormwind.

Strangely enough, the entire Stormwind City was in ruins, dilapidated and broken, with collapsed walls and rubble scattered everywhere.

But remarkably, this gate is exceptionally well-preserved—

The two massive ironwood city gates were tightly closed, and although the iron sheets covering the gates were rusty, there was not a single scratch.

The stone carvings on the door frame are still there, with a griffin on each side, holding a shield in its claws. The emblems on the shields have been weathered away, and only a blurry outline can be seen.

The city gate stood like a silent tombstone, all alone in the ruins, as if guarding something.

Lin Qi stopped in front of the gate and looked up at the two towering city gates.

"Open it," he said.

Skull No. 2 and the Asdok chief stepped forward simultaneously, their four bone hands bracing against the edge of the door crack, exerting force at the same time.

The ironwood door hinges creaked gratingly, rust dust falling in a flurry. The two heavy city gates slowly slid open, like the lifting of a coffin sealed for a thousand years.

The blood-red moonlight, like the afterglow of the setting sun, poured in from outside the door.

The blood-red light pierced through the archway, flowing like a river into the city that had been silent for a thousand years.

Wherever the light passed, the shattered bones glowed with a warm hue, the ruins were edged with gold, and even the bone dust in the air seemed like burning golden dust, slowly floating in the pillar of light.

Then, Lynch saw the scene outside the door.

That was a battlefield.

What should have been a wide-open plain outside the city gates has now become a sea of ​​corpses.

Bones covered every inch of the ground, stretching from the foot of the city gate to the horizon, densely packed and layered.

It's like land that's been plowed, except what's being pulled out isn't soil, but bones.

Skeletons, zombies, mutilated skeletons, skulls half-buried in the ground, broken swords stuck in the ground, shattered shields, rusted armor—

They piled up together, forming undulating hills, stretching ridges, and an endless wasteland of white bones.

Those remains were not scattered randomly.

They have a clear direction—

They were all facing the city gate.

Countless undead souls surged in from afar like a tide, wave after wave, layer upon layer.

But they were blocked at the city gate, cut down, defeated, and then trampled underfoot by those who came after them, and then trampled on top of those who came after them.

The corpses piled up in front of the city gate, forming a slope, a hill, and a gently rising highland.

And at the highest point of that highland, on the mountaintop piled high with the bones of countless enemies—

A figure stood there.

That was a person. Or rather, it used to be a person.

He wore the armor of an imperial officer, with a broad and heavy breastplate and shoulder armor that curled upwards like two outstretched wings.

The armor was covered with knife marks and sword holes, and the plate on the left shoulder was completely gone, revealing the empty skeleton underneath.

There was a terrifying crack in the center of his chest, stretching from his collarbone all the way to his waist, as if he had been cleaved open by some enormous force.

The paint on the armor had long since peeled off, leaving only a dark, iron-gray color that gleamed dimly under the blood moon.

His body was already mutilated. Only half of his left arm remained, with bone fragments protruding from the broken elbow.

Several ribs were exposed through the cracks in the breastplate, and one leg appeared to be broken as well.

He was still holding a sword in his right hand.

It was a two-handed cross sword, longer and wider than any Lynch had ever seen.

The sword was covered in cracks, the blade was badly curled, and in some places a large piece was missing, but it was still held firmly in that bone hand.

He gripped the hilt of the sword in his right hand, the tip of which was embedded in the pile of corpses at his feet. It was as if he was only able to stay upright by relying on the sword.

Even so, he still—

Stand still!

Broken and battered, his body mutilated, his armor shattered, his sword blade chipped—yet he still stood.

He stood atop the mountain, a mountain piled high with the bones of his enemies, with countless, layered remains of the dead beneath his feet.

Standing before this perfectly intact city gate.

It was as if it were announcing to the whole world—

As long as I stand here, no enemy will be able to cross this city gate.

Lin Qi stood at the city gate, looking up at the figure.

The crimson light fell on the small hill of corpses, on the tattered armor, and on the cracked greatsword.

The figure stood silently in the light, like a statue, like a monument, like a night watchman forgotten by time.

"I have to say, this scene is far more stunning than what you see in the game."

"Storm Knight..."

Lin Qi spoke softly, his voice echoing gently in front of the empty city gate.

Storm Knight.

Diego.

He is the military commander of Stormwind and also a hero of the city.

It is because of his existence that the main gate of this city has been preserved so well.

That was a vow fulfilled with one's life—

As long as people live, the city will stand!