Full-Time Magister: The Strongest Summoned Beast is Actually Myself

Chapter 127, Despair

As soon as dawn breaks, the tide of the dead will gradually dissipate like the receding sea. No matter how turbulent they are, they can never defy this law of nature.

but……

Han Ji stood at the highest point of the north city wall, but his brows furrowed even more deeply.

He squinted at the clouds on the horizon, which were being illuminated by the morning light—black, thick, and unyielding.

“…No.” He said in a low voice.

Above the clouds, the rain that blotted out the sun continued to fall. It wasn't ordinary rain, but the torrential downpour that hadn't stopped since last night, and it had even intensified.

It isolates the sky, blocks out the sunlight, and presses down on the ancient capital, as if the entire city is enveloped in a dark, desolate land of the dead.

"The sunlight...cannot reach it."

“It’s not just a problem with the clouds.” Another white-haired, high-ranking elder said in a deep voice, “Even heavier rains have fallen in the ancient capital before, but the special exorcising effect of the sun after it rises cannot be blocked by the clouds. I’m afraid something bad is going to happen.”

"What? The undead aren't retreating?" someone exclaimed.

"Why? Isn't it already dawn?" Someone stared blankly at the faintly glowing dark clouds, as if they had lost their soul.

Its daybreak.

South city wall.

A sliver of pale white peeked through the gray sky. The once deathly silent army of the dead did not retreat as everyone expected. Instead, as if sensing something, their movements became increasingly agitated, and their howls gathered in the wind into a low, oppressive whistle.

"What's going on? Why can these undead move around during the day?" Zhou Min was shocked. She stood on the temporary observation tower, looking down at the dead tide that seemed to be swallowing people up. She could hardly stand.

“No…it shouldn’t be like this…wasn’t it said that dawn would recede?” Zhang Xiaohou murmured, his voice trembling, as if he had foreseen what would happen next.

"Didn't you say they would leave during the day?! We held out all night!" A rogue mage broke down, grabbing the collar of the commander beside him, his eyes red, seemingly unable to accept this reality.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly! Don't expose yourself outside the barrier anymore!!" The commander's roar came from the south, but the mages who were just rejoicing that dawn was approaching and preparing to take turns resting found that the undead showed no signs of retreating. Instead, they began to ram the magic barrier at an even more frantic frequency.

"Ah ah ah ah ah!!"

"They've gone mad! The undead are still attacking!!"

"Didn't they say...didn't they say it would be safe by dawn?!"

"Can anyone tell me what's going on?!"

Panic and chaos spread rapidly through the crowd like a plague. The defensive line that had been held so tightly began to crumble.

"Calm down! Everyone calm down!" An elderly earth mage roared, erecting a defensive barrier that shattered the invading shadows. "This doesn't mean it's over!! The undead... may have used some means to block out the sunlight, but we're still here! The barrier is still there!!"

"Blocking sunlight? How is that possible? Where would the undead get such abilities?! Could it be a curse from the gods?!"

Just then, a sharp whistle came from the southeast.

It is a military-grade magical signal.

"The undead lord! It's the undead lord!!!!" the scout shouted desperately, then his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

"Waaaaaahh ...
"It's the Nightmare Demon Lord!!" An old mage, his face pale and lips trembling, uttered these words, "It...it has shown itself!"

On the distant southeastern horizon, a massive black shadow slowly rose.

That was not a mountain—but a colossal throne, hundreds of feet high, made up of countless evil spirits, vengeful ghosts, and malevolent souls, floating in mid-air, like a gloomy palace of the dead!

On that throne, a being that was humanoid yet not humanoid slowly sat up.

It was draped in a tattered black robe, its long hair hanging haphazardly over its shoulders like withered grass, but its face was covered by a bronze weeping mask, with blood flowing from its seven orifices and a slight grin at the corners of its mouth.

It is the Ghost Army Commander among the Eight Kings of the Dead—the Nightmare Prison Ghost King.

Its status is second only to the Corpse of the Mountain Peak, and it is on par with the Lord of the Underworld. Its strength is probably not bad either.

"Prepare for barrier amplification!!" the South City Wall Commander roared. "All! All elemental spells—layer upon layer!!"

"Too late—it's already begun!" someone exclaimed.

The Nightmare Demon Lord slowly raised his hand, the palm covered in Nether Iron, as if it were drawing something.

The next second, the earth collapsed with a deafening roar!

"Boom, boom, boom!!"

The ground, several kilometers to the south, was suddenly stirred up by an invisible hand, with dark ripples rising from the ground.

Countless evil spirits rose from the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​bones, crashing against the south city wall like a tidal wave!

"It's the Nightmare Tide! He's summoning all the high-level ghosts!"

Countless ghostly figures streaked across the barrier, each carrying miasma and curses. Even a mere glancing blow could cause a high-level mage to suffer a mental shock and cough up blood!

"Aaaaaah!! My eyes!! They've gotten into my head!!"

An ice mage screamed. She was standing inside the defensive line, but her face was as pale as paper, her body convulsed and collapsed uncontrollably, and blood was seeping from her mouth and nose, as if her soul had been torn apart!

"Don't look at it with your naked eyes! Don't make eye contact!!" a psychic scholar warned. "The Nightmare Demon Lord is the embodiment of nightmares; it can directly affect the human subconscious! This isn't a physical attack; it's soul pollution!!"

But it was too late—too many people had already recognized its existence immediately.

boom! ! !
The entire southern city barrier was as if it had been devoured by ten thousand ghosts, cracking open a blood-red fissure, and countless evil spirits poured in madly!
"Block it up!!!! Block it up for me!!!"

"No backing up!!!"

The commander's voice was hysterical as he shouted and led the charge. In no time, he was torn to shreds, but he managed to clear out the wave of evil spirits, and the gaps in the barrier were successfully repaired by the great formation.

Meanwhile, the higher-ups also noticed the situation, but they had no time to spare, because not only in the south, but also in the east, west, south and north, all directions had undead lords appearing.

Among them, Ghost King and Agate Corpse King are also among the Eight Dead Kings, but their strength is not as great as that of Mountain Corpse, Skeleton Lord, Nightmare Ghost King, and Nine Nether Queen.

After all, these four represent the four undead unit types: corpse, skeleton, ghost, and phantom. The ancient king's undead empire was formed by these types of undead, and other special units are basically derived from these types.

(End of this chapter)