E-Rantel's three concentric walls enclosed a city where the outermost wall's western quarter housed a vast cemetery.
As a frontline fortress, the Re-Estize Kingdom's annual clashes with the Baharuth Empire left countless dead.
Though rumors about undead origins abounded, none were confirmed, and the true cause of their emergence remained a mystery. Yet, one belief held firm: places of death, especially for those who died violently or unmourned, had a higher chance of spawning undead.
Thus, both Empire and Kingdom upheld wartime pacts to solemnly honor the fallen, and this sprawling cemetery was established for that purpose.
Under the dim night sky, a shadowy figure moved swiftly yet silently toward the cemetery.
The closer they got, the heavier the silence in the air. Even by day, few visited; at night, it was deserted.
From a distance, Adam spotted a four-meter-high wall encircling the cemetery, a barrier not to protect the graves but to keep any spawned undead from escaping.
He tilted his head slightly.
On his left nasal bridge perched a monocle, the magic item he'd bought with Night Vision, allowing him to see clearly in the dark.
The tall, sturdy wall was designed to contain common undead, but for Adam, it was no obstacle.
As he neared, two softly glowing watchtowers flanked a heavy, sealed gate, guarded by patrolling soldiers and a stationed adventurer team.
The Adventurer's Guild, in coordination with the city's mayor, rotated these teams periodically to handle any undead rising within.
"Looks like I'll need another entry point." Adam muttered, veering along the wall, away from the watchtowers.
Soon, he stopped beneath a smooth, four-meter section of the wall, eyeing its surface impassively.
Such a height might deter lesser undead, but it was trivial for him.
Bending his knees, he sprang, leaping three meters. His palm flipped, and a mithril dagger appeared, stabbing into the wall to anchor him.
With a twist of his wrist, he pulled himself higher. As his foot leveled with the dagger, he flicked it free with his toe, catching it midair.
In a blink, Adam landed lightly atop the wall and slipped into the cemetery.
A sea of tombstones greeted him, interspersed with withered trees rustling in the wind. Small, meter-high wooden structures, resembling huts, dotted each tombstone cluster.
In the night's shadows, they cast long, eerie silhouettes, exuding an oppressive, fearful aura.
Adam's face remained expressionless.
In his past life, ghosts didn't exist, yet people feared them due to psychology or the unknown. In this world, ghosts, spirits, were real.
How to deal with them?
A faint smirk tugged at Adam's lips as he strode deeper into the cemetery. "Kill them."
The deeper he went, the denser the tombstones and barren trees became.
Adam surveyed his surroundings while recalling key details.
If memory served, Khajiit hid in an underground temple deep within the cemetery. By the story's start, he'd been lurking in E-Rantel's graveyard for five years, amassing negative energy.
Given the current timeline, Khajiit had likely been here only a year.
For a necromancer like Khajiit, the cemetery was a home-field advantage, especially at night.
Daytime was unsuitable for action. Guards and adventurer teams patrolled then, rushing to any disturbance.
At night, unless a horde of undead breached the walls, neither guards nor adventurers would enter rashly, waiting for dawn to investigate.
If Khajiit's edge was the terrain, Adam's was intelligence.
Khajiit's arsenal worried Adam most, particularly the Bone Dragon.
At Level 16, it was immune to magic below sixth tier, a nightmare for this world's casters. Even the Archangel Flame's fire and holy attacks would be nullified.
Its massive size granted strength far beyond its level, making it a formidable undead.
However, since Khajiit took five years to gather enough negative energy for two Bone Dragons, he likely couldn't summon one yet.
Still, Adam prepared contingencies, nothing was certain.
Two of his ten Archangel Flames were reserved to stall a Bone Dragon, not to kill, but to delay.
The cemetery's depths grew eerily quiet.
Occasional wisps, like ghostly flames, flickered in the withered woods.
About a hundred meters away, a three-meter-high, dilapidated temple with a spire roof and thick stone pillars came into view. Its severe damage suggested centuries of decay.
Adam halted, tilting his head, scanning the surroundings.
Under faint moonlight, shadows moved toward him from the tree cover, accompanied by guttural, beast-like growls.
A rotten, fetid stench suddenly filled the air.
As undead zombies shambled closer, Adam flipped his wrist, a second-tier scroll appearing in his hand. He crushed it.
Swish!
Holy light flashed, coalescing into a Guardian Angel.
Instantly, the undead, previously creeping, surged forward with quickened steps, their roars intensifying.
Bang!
A male zombie smashed through a dead tree, emerging to Adam's left. Its rotting flesh, under his Night Vision monocle, revealed writhing maggots.
"Go. Lure all the undead in this area away." Adam ordered the Guardian Angel, his face impassive.
Whoosh!
The angel's yellow wings beat, and it soared into the distance.
As it moved, the undead horde shifted, chasing after it. To undead, a living person's aura was fragrant meat; an angel's holy presence was a blazing torch in the dark.
Adam eyed the temple a hundred meters away, making no move to approach, standing still and waiting.
After seven or eight minutes, the area's undead had been drawn off by the Guardian Angel.
"Step two." Adam said with a faint smile, flipping his hands to produce two Second-Tier Summon Angel scrolls.
***
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