Riven smashed all the undead into pieces. Spartacus did, but he took the glory as the master, and it wasn’t that he just sat there. He was the one freezing the undead while Spartacus took care of them.
Besides, the energy he was using wasn’t easy either. His body was covered in sweat, and it felt as if his head was swelling. Not only was he providing aura to Spartacus, but he was also doing so for the Grave Knight behind him, guarding his back.
But even when all the undead were smashed, the single funeral guy who issued the challenge still didn’t appear. It was simply too much for Riven.
So he commanded Spartacus to start smashing the houses next and cut down all the undead in the village. "You want to hide? Well, what happens when there’s nowhere for you to hide?"
That was the thought behind the plan. Riven was simply tired of playing the undead game.
Spartacus returned his sword to its scabbard and then used it as a blunt weapon. The mud houses didn’t stand a chance and were smashed down with ease. The undead inside didn’t even put up any resistance as they were stepped on, shattered into dust.
Four houses went down when the unexpected happened.
"Stop! Stop! You vicious bastard!"
Above a house closest to Riven stood an undead wearing a white funeral cloth. Immediately, it changed to black bandages.
Hollow sockets filled with countless flickering red lights glared down at Riven. "Enough! Stop your undead summon from destroying my village!"
Riven stared at the black-bandaged figure in silence. With a tug on his connection, he sent the Grave Knight to come around and stand between them.
Crack! Crack!
The silence between them was suddenly filled with the sound of stones getting scattered and smashed.
The black-bandaged undead waved its hands frantically. "I said stop, you heartless human! Do you want to destroy my village?"
Riven leaned back and adjusted himself so he was sitting upright in a dignified manner. "Why should I stop destroying the village? I’m still looking for an undead wearing a white funeral robe!"
The reason Riven was talking like that was because he’d come to a few guesses.
"...Something is preventing it from attacking me and killing me... maybe that’s the rule of this place? It can only trap but not directly attack?..."
The black-bandaged undead suddenly changed into a white funeral robe. "Here I am. So can you stop with the destruction? Stop it!"
Riven stared at the undead blankly as if he couldn’t understand what it was saying. "What’s so special about it? It’s just a village, after all."
The undead wailed. It sounded like a wire instrument being strung wrongly to the highest note. But instead of facing Riven, the monster faced upward into the sky.
The sound it was making came out like white misty arrows that lifted into the sky and pierced the space. It didn’t attack Riven but was showing him what it could have done.
Riven paused and didn’t push it. He sent a mental command, and Spartacus froze with a punch about to smash into an undead in a collapsed house. "Where is Kivara?"
The funeral undead twisted into a coffin with the lid open, and she was thrown out like a doll. But this doll was a Rank Three, and she reached the ground with ease, like a falling leaf. Then she turned sharply, her sword raised and a glare in her eyes. "You bastard!"
The funeral undead had turned into its black bandages again. "You pass! You pass! Just leave my village!"
Kivara took a step forward, but even though she was angry, her face still showed caution. She knew that the black-bandaged undead was powerful, judging by the pressure it was holding back. The fact that it wasn’t attacking them meant something more powerful had told it not to.
The hair on her body raised, and she took a deep breath. In an instant, her face changed. The sword she was holding vanished, and a smooth expression took over. "Alright. We will be going then."
Just then, she turned, and her eyes landed on Spartacus.
It was just an instant when her eyes and Spartacus’s met, but in that same instant, they both moved.
Kivara’s sword appeared faster than it had disappeared, and she left a mirage of shadows behind as she shot forward. The ground cracked where her feet touched as Spartacus flung himself forward to meet her in return.
Riven was left stunned behind. "...What the..."
He wasn’t even paying attention when it happened. It was so fast it took a moment to even understand.
Crack!
The two clashed! A simple exchange of swords, but it generated forceful winds around them that blew up dust and fragments of stone.
Before Riven could blink, something shot past him. He saw a streak of red, and Spartacus collided with a building. The black-bandaged undead began to wail again.
Kivara stared at where Spartacus was picking himself up and then at her sword. The tip was slightly cracked, but with a bit of aura from her, it returned to normal.
She smiled, her hand still tingling with the vibration of their exchange. But her eyes had taken on a dangerous look, like a sharp knife pointed outward. "I didn’t know there was this kind of warrior here! A practitioner with a Sigil that works internally? Come, you’re strong!"
Riven stood and jumped between them. His connection with Spartacus was filled with commands to stop him, and even though Spartacus didn’t say anything, his eyes were burning, and he was pushing hard against the commands! He wanted to fight!
This was the first time Riven had been in this kind of situation as a necromancer. Half of his focus was bent on stopping Spartacus while he pointed at Kivara. "You should stop as well. Don’t fight!"
Kivara gave him a surprised look. "Why not? It’s been a long time since I’ve fought such a strong warrior. Although I’m stronger than him, he looks like the type that will continue to hold on!"