Originally, I only had enough mana to use two level 4 spells. After using a level 3 spell, "Prison of Bones," and a level 4 spell, "Resurrection of the Dead," I could only use two level 3 spells.
As a cardinal, Nicholas is a seventh-level divine messenger in terms of strength, and third-level spells can hardly pose an effective threat to him.
Moreover, in combat, priests are inherently superior to mages: they possess considerable elemental resistance, and unlike most projectile-based spells, divine magic is mostly lock-on, extremely fast to activate, and difficult to dodge.
Advanced divine spells can even silence a mage, reducing them to a mere country bumpkin capable only of wielding a staff.
Therefore, on the battlefield, generally speaking, mages' control, amplification and debuff spells, as well as area-of-effect damage spells, counter warriors, while warriors' continuous physical attacks prevent priests from calming down to pray. Priests, in turn, counter mages for the reasons mentioned above.
The three professions check and balance each other, forming a perfect closed loop.
Therefore, under such circumstances, Yun Wei dared not show any fear. He had to force himself to remain calm and put on an air of confidence, as if he had a trump card up his sleeve.
He was looking for an opportunity in his confrontation with Nicholas.
If the opponent is distracted for even a moment, he can take the opportunity to unfold the teleportation scroll hidden in his sleeve and leave from this extremely disadvantageous place.
No matter where he is sent, as long as he can escape successfully, he can slowly plot after his magic power is restored.
To his surprise, for reasons unknown, the other party abandoned the use of divine magic and, after some deliberation, chose to launch an attack on him with mental power.
His mental strength, after being constantly tempered, was showing signs of a qualitative change, but he had not yet had time to study it carefully.
But frankly, the holy sword that the opponent possessed, which seemed to be capable of destroying the world and was formed from spiritual power, was not even as powerful as the aftershocks of the painful shockwaves passively emitted by the undead servants earlier.
When it collided with his spiritual sea, it seemed to only splash up a tiny, weak wave.
Yun Wei couldn't help but sneer.
He knew that for that ambitious and hypocritical bishop, an invisible humiliation was worse than being torn to pieces.
The other person's wrinkled, shoehorn-shaped face had turned a dark purple-liver color, yet he insisted on maintaining his image of a kind and upright person in front of everyone, truly resembling a clown dressed as a monkey.
He was preparing to take this opportunity to unfold the teleportation scroll and leave.
But just then, he heard the other party order his men to "bring the man up."
Yun Wei's heart skipped a beat. Even he wasn't sure if his Schrödinger's right eyelid had suddenly twitched again.
Hidden in his sleeve, his thumb, which had just untied the scroll's cord, slowly stopped at the rough edge of the scroll, unconsciously scraping it back and forth in a restless mood.
During the long wait, two rows of silver-armored warriors carrying torches filed out, parted the crowd, and stood facing each other lifelessly.
In the deathly silence of the night, the scattered lights did not bring warmth, but rather resembled the torches held by witches during May Day, waiting to lead straight to hell in a frenzied revelry.
At the end of the procession, two knights, with heavy steps, slowly appeared, dragging a silver-haired youth dressed in tattered clothes.
Yun Wei's pupils contracted slightly.
Richard!?
He'd already returned to the academy! How could he have been captured by the Knight of Light? And, most importantly…
As if to answer his most pressing question immediately, another unusually tall man was dragged up afterward.
In that instant, Yun Wei felt as if his blood had frozen. His robe, which had been soaked with cold sweat, clung to his spine, causing him to shiver involuntarily.
But he insisted on pretending nothing was wrong, not wanting to reveal the slightest flaw.
Yun Wei's fingernails dug into his palm. Despite the excruciating pain, he forced himself to put on an expression that was three parts surprise and seven parts indifference, and looked at the two people being escorted with great interest.
However, their wrists and necks were heavily bound by divine chains, and their clothes were disheveled with obvious shoe prints, indicating that they had been treated quite roughly.
But what brought Yun Wei to the brink of collapse was that he clearly saw a silver rune cross forcefully plunged into the hollow of Isaac's collarbone.
Even from this distance, Yun Wei could see dark red blood gushing from the base of the cross, staining the well-tailored shirt with crimson.
The cross, though clearly embedded in Isaac's body, seemed to pierce Yun Wei's heart.
His eyes were unusually dry, yet he insisted on staring intently at the heavy cross.
Just then, the incredibly loyal follower struggled and defiantly raised his head amidst the knight's rebuke, their eyes meeting in mid-air.
In that extremely brief moment, Yun Wei read too many turbulent emotions in the other person's smoky gray eyes, which he knew all too well:
Resentment, anger, regret, anxiety...
And then there was the intense, almost overwhelming, self-blame.
Even though his most beloved eyes were incredibly weak at this moment, they remained as resolute as ever.
Yun Wei felt like he could barely breathe.
His world spun around him, and his soul teetered on the brink of collapse.
He was like a drowning fish. At that moment, his brain seemed to have gone on strike, completely unable to calm down from the panic.
But at that moment, from the very back of the line, from the silent crowd, a red-haired knight stepped forward, walking slowly and calmly.
Al...
It's Al again!
Yun Wei's jaw was practically clenched to pieces. He stared at his former follower with almost resentment, his dark pupils dark and fierce, as if they were about to spit fire.
But the other party didn't even glance at him. Instead, he walked respectfully to Nicholas, knelt on one knee, and said, "Your Excellency Cardinal, the accomplices of the instigators have all been successfully captured."
"Very well. In that case, your merits are considerable, and you can atone for your sins with them." The old man sitting on his horse regained his arrogance, a ferocious smile on his face, and turned to look at Yun Wei.
"So, what do you say now, you lowly necromancer? Hmm, will you choose to kneel down and beg for mercy, or will you choose to watch helplessly as your servant is tortured to death by me?"
As he spoke, he flicked his fingertips, sending a silver-white "Divine Punishment" to each of the two men who were pinned to the ground.
As the divine spell struck without fail, two muffled groans of extreme pain immediately followed.
Both Richard and Isaac convulsed uncontrollably under the lash of the divine magic.
But to everyone's surprise—
Standing alone, watching everything with almost indifferent eyes, Yun Wei suddenly burst into laughter. The laughter was rampant and unrestrained, like an owl lurking in a mass grave, inevitably sending chills down one's spine.
“I think, Your Excellency Cardinal, you may have made a mistake.”
In the intense darkness of the night, the necromancer stood in a circle drawn with bone powder, his back to the stage littered with corpses.
His voice was hoarse and fierce, like a vengeful ghost climbing out of hell to claim a life.
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