Full-Time Magister: Dark Throne

"Perfect timing, I'll use you as my starting point!"

He An turned to look at the bone dragon with three heads outside the north city wall and said with a smile.

Nightfall silently appeared in his palm, the pitch-black sword pointing directly at the head in the very center of the Skeleton Lord.

"唳~~~~~~~!!"

A piercing cry of an eagle echoed across the entire northern city wall.

"Silver Dome Lord?" Zhu Meng was stunned after hearing the eagle's cry.

The image of that arrogant monarch, surrounded by ten four-clawed demonic eagles, instantly flashed into my mind.

The sky above the North City Tower.

The dense, leaden clouds were replaced by a spatial rift.

"唳~~~~"

One loud cry after another rang out from the spatial rift.

A silver-white figure shot out like lightning, heading straight for the Skeleton Lord who was hovering in mid-air!

"Whoosh!!!"

Enraged by the arrogant attitude displayed by the Silver Feather Sky Lord, the Skeleton Lord hovered in the air, flapping its pair of domineering bone wings.

It held the main brain of the three heads high, and through its hollowed-out throat, one could see black energy shimmering in its mouth.

"Buzz~~~~Sizzle!!!!"

With energy gathered to its limit, the sharp dark light suddenly transformed into a thick beam of light that roared towards the Silver Feather Sky Lord!

The space along the way hummed under this enormous energy pressure.

"Hey!"

Not to be outdone, the Silver Feather Sky Lord also let out a furious cry.

The last remaining silver feathers on the skeleton's body transformed into a violently swirling whirlwind, like countless sharp blades, surrounding its body.

"Screech!" Another scream rang out.

The storm of blades met the dark pillar of light head-on, and the demonic techniques released by the two monarch-level demons collided violently in mid-air, ten kilometers away from the north city wall.

The dark light and the silver feather blades clashed and wore each other down, turning into dark or silver specks of light that dissipated.

The entire northern city wall trembled under this enormous energy.

Seeing that their demonic skills were evenly matched, the two demonic monarchs chose to decide the outcome through the most ancient form of close combat.

"Your Excellency the Prophet of the Divine Capital, please inform your superiors to halt the decapitation operation!"

Han Ji, the president of the Bell Tower Magic Association, stood on the North City Tower, gazing at the eagle-dragon fighting in the sky, his hands behind his back.

"President Han, this..." The gray-haired man hesitated.

How much manpower and resources has the Tribunal mobilized to investigate Salam for so many years? And how many brave judges have sacrificed their lives?

Now, an opportunity to behead Cardinal Salam of the Black Papacy is presented to them.

If we do nothing, how can we face the judges who sacrificed their lives and the innocent people who died under Salam's scheme?

Han Ji patted the ancient city's battlements, which had stood for a thousand years, heavily with his right hand.

"Compared to that smokescreen 'Sarang,' which may or may not be intended to cause infighting, I care more about these living, breathing residents of the ancient capital. They are the ones we are more willing to risk everything for!"

This ancient capital has survived for thousands of years precisely because our ancestors chose to protect it time and again!

"If we carry out the decapitation strike, Salang might die, or he might not." Han Ji paused, then continued, "But if all of us high-ranking officials die, then the residents of the ancient capital will truly have no hope of survival!"

If He An hadn't appeared, Han Ji might have adopted the decapitation plan as in the original novel.

But He An appeared, bringing something Han Ji never dared to dream of:

Hope for a comeback!

The hope to lead the people of the ancient capital to survive!

As soon as Han Ji finished speaking, a group of imperial guards dressed in long purple robes appeared in various locations on the north city wall.

They had already laid an ambush, waiting only for Han Ji's command to appear and place all the high-ranking officials under house arrest.

"Lu Huan." Han Ji turned to look at the group of imperial guard mages.

A man dressed in purple, with an imposing presence, stepped out.

It was none other than Lu Huan, the chief of the Imperial Guards and the garrison commander of the north gate of the ancient capital.

"There's no major problem in the ancient capital for now. You should assist He An in killing that Skeleton King of the Underworld."

Lu Huan nodded, flapped his enormous, pure white wings, and flew towards the battle between the eagle and the dragon.

With the assistance of this top-ranking guard chief in the ancient capital, capable of slaying undead lords, Lord Silver Feather will soon be able to kill Lord Skeleton Netherworld.

"I began evacuating the citizens on my way here, directing them to safety within the inner city walls. As for the spirits outside the city, I entrust them to you all! We must buy those people time to reach the safe zone!"

Han Ji, with a solemn expression, bowed to the high-ranking officials present.

"No, Chairman Han!" Zhu Meng hurriedly helped Han Ji up.

"Yes, President Han, as high-ranking officials, protecting the people is what we should do. If we, as super-level mages, were to run away first in this time of crisis, wouldn't we be no different from those parasites we despise?" Hunter King Du Xiao said with a smile.

"Yes! Yes!" the other executives echoed.

"Everyone, I'm the youngest, so let me go first and cut a gap in this oppressive dark cloud!" He An looked at the senior executives with a smile on his lips.

As he spoke, He An gripped Ye Lan tightly with both hands, raised it high above his head, and then brought it down hard!

"Nightfall, the River Styx's Lament!"

A winding, thin river of the underworld flowed from the tip of He An's sword, rolling onto the ground and transforming into an unstoppable, surging river of the underworld, pulverizing all the charging undead.

This is the profound secret of nightfall specially developed by He'an for the ancient capital.

The core of Styx's Lament is far more complex than it appears.

It also incorporates He An's insights into the necromancy system and the necromancy system's innate talent, "Netherworld Divine Realm".

The undead touched by the waters of the River Styx can be transformed into all of Hean's undead legions.

"What's this? A civil war among the undead?" The demon man in leather had just frozen a corpse that lunged at him into a block of ice when he saw the undead legions fighting fiercely on both sides of the River Styx.

Before he could react, a soft whisper landed on his face.

He reached out and touched it, asking in confusion:

"rain?"

"rain."

Standing atop the North City Tower, Han Ji withdrew his right hand, which had caught a bit of rainwater.

His worst fears came true.

Everything was unfolding according to Salang's plan. With the rain mixed with the dew of the Nine Netherworlds, the undead would gain a certain advantage on the battlefield.

By utilizing the properties of the Nine Nether Dew, the battle to defend the ancient capital was transformed into a protracted war.

Even more terrifying is the possibility that this rain might awaken those ancient, long-dormant rulers.

"Waaah~" The Lord of the Underworld let out a final, feeble howl.

It fought for a long time in mid-air with Silver Feather Sky Lord and Chief of the Imperial Guard, Lu Huan.

The black necromantic crystal was shattered, and the throat of the pillar of dark light that had once covered half of the north gate tower cracked open.

Its bone wings were broken, and it wobbled and flapped in mid-air.

Two and a half of the three heads were torn apart, leaving only the right eye on the middle head, which gradually dimmed.

The Lord of the Underworld finally stopped flapping his wings and fell towards the ground.

Before the people of the ancient capital could cheer for the slaying of a fallen king...

In the distant, misty rain, a mountain peak slowly moves toward this ancient capital city, which is beset by storms.

It was a towering, monstrous corpse, as imposing as a mountain peak. Every step it took shook the ground of the entire ancient capital.

The drizzle that had just started suddenly turned into a torrential downpour, as if it were offering the most solemn baptism to this mad corpse king!