Dark Wizard: Rise! My undead army!

Outside Free City, an old woman stood by the edge of a field, watching the crops that were about to ripen but were now withering rapidly.

Her face was red from the wind, and her eyes were narrowed to slits, filled with despair.

Plague, monsters, natural disasters...

This God really doesn't give people a way to live!

This crop has been ruined; let's see what happens next time.

The old woman was about to go back when she suddenly realized something was wrong.

She squatted down and grabbed a handful of soil.

The soil was dry and crumbly, leaking through my fingers.

She brought the soil to her nose and smelled it; it had no smell.

The soil used to have a smell—the earthy smell after rain, the smell of green grass in spring, the smell of crops in autumn—but now there's none of that.

"It's over...it's all over...the land is ruined..." she murmured, scattering soil on the ground before turning and walking away.

She didn't turn around.

The land can no longer grow crops; there's no way for us to survive...

...

An old man sat on a stone mill at the entrance of the village, looking at the distant mountains.

The mountain is still the same mountain, but the color is different.

It used to be green, now it's gray.

The trees died, the grass withered, and even the stones became brittle.

"This world is doomed," he said, as if sensing something.

A child nearby was munching on a shriveled wild fruit and looked puzzled upon hearing this.

Is the world about to end?

What do you mean?

"The plague didn't kill us all, the monsters didn't eat us all, and now even God doesn't want us anymore."

The old man stood up, leaned on his cane, and walked towards the village.

"Let's go, there's no hope. Just go home and wait to die."

...

Outside the village that Lyon had once conquered, a group of people stood at the village entrance, looking at the sky, the ground, and the distant mountains.

The land was barren, the water was undrinkable, and they stood at the village entrance like a flock of abandoned sheep, not knowing where to go.

A young man suddenly knelt down and kowtowed to the sky.

"God! Savior! Whoever you are! Please save us! Please!"

No one answered him.

All the gods are dead.

In the distance, a bolt of lightning struck down, hitting the mountaintop.

The mountaintop exploded, and rubble tumbled down, crashing into the village below.

The house collapsed, and dust flew up, obscuring half the sky.

The screams carried far from the village before being quickly dispersed by the wind.

The world is crumbling little by little.

...

In the desolate wilderness, a mage tower stands.

An old mage stood atop the tower, showing no fear of the wandering spirits around him.

At that moment, he seemed to sense something and looked at his hands.

A faint blue light emanated from his hand, like a candle flame about to go out.

He channeled his spiritual energy, trying to condense a fireball, but the flame flickered and then went out.

He tried again, and it went out again.

The third time, there was nothing.

His hands no longer shone.

"It's over...it's all over..." he murmured as he walked down from the top of the tower.

He felt weak and needed to hold onto the wall to walk steadily.

He walked to the bottom of the tower and pushed open the door.

Several young apprentices were standing outside, waiting for him.

"Teacher, our magic..."

"The elements are gone," the old mage said. "Stop training, it's useless."

The apprentices looked at each other, unsure of what to say.

Without magic, how will they survive in this monster-infested world?

The old monk stood at the doorway, gazing at the distant sky.

The sky was gray, the clouds were black, and the wind was cold.

He sighed and went back to his room.

They've had their moment in the spotlight for so many years, that's enough, it's time for them to take a good rest.

...

Outside the Iron Felt City, six soldiers stood at the city gate. The leader was an old soldier in his forties with a scar on his face.

Five young men followed behind him, the youngest of whom was not yet twenty.

They were the last remaining professionals in Ironan City, and this time they were going out of the city to clear out the undead in the surrounding area.

If not cleared, the surrounding spirits will gather in greater numbers, posing a threat to the city's safety.

The veteran glanced behind him: "Is everything checked?"

Several people responded.

He pushed open the city gate and was the first to walk out.

Outside the city, in the wasteland, seven or eight skeleton soldiers were scattered beside an abandoned village.

The veteran gave a hand signal, and the six men spread out to encircle the enemy.

As they got closer, the veteran raised his hand and slashed downwards. The tall youth chopped off the head of one of the skeleton soldiers with a single sword strike, while the short, stocky youth knocked down another with his shield and plunged his sword into its ribs.

The veteran rushed forward, severing the arm of a skeleton soldier, and then thrust the sword into its eye socket.

The youngest one was so scared that his hands trembled, and he only gritted his teeth and rushed forward after being yelled at by the veteran.

The seven or eight skeleton soldiers were quickly cut down.

The tall young man sheathed his sword: "These skeletons are far too weak."

The short, stocky young man wiped his shield: "It's good that they're weak. The whole world is full of these kinds of freaks now."

The old soldier didn't speak, looking down at his sword.

Those sword strikes just now seemed to have depleted his battle qi exceptionally quickly. When he activated his internal battle qi, he found that he had less than half left.

He only used 30% of his strength, but consumed 70%.

"Check the fighting spirit," the veteran said.

The group closed their eyes and activated the technique, their expressions changing drastically.

The tall youth had only used up 30% of his fighting spirit, and the short, stocky youth had used up more than half of his. The youngest one's voice trembled: "I...I'm out of fighting spirit."

The veteran paused for a moment, then said, "Let's go back!"

The six people turned around and walked back.

After walking for a while, three zombies suddenly rushed out from the roadside and blocked the way.

The veteran drew his sword and charged forward, slashing at the neck of the foremost zombie, but the sword got stuck.

The zombie grabbed his sword, dragged him away, and pounced on him, grabbing his neck.

The short, stocky youth rammed the zombie away with his shield, and another zombie bit his arm.

The smallest one was so frightened that it collapsed to the ground.

The tall young man gritted his teeth and used his last bit of strength to stab the zombie in the back of the head with his sword, then stabbed it in the other one.

The short, stocky youth picked up the shield and smashed the head of the zombie that was biting him.

The veteran got up, picked up his sword, and chopped off the last zombie's head.

The three zombies were dead, but the tall young man had a gash on his chest, blood gushing out, and the short, stocky young man had a piece of flesh bitten off his arm.

The veteran carried the tall young man on his back and headed towards Iron Felt City.

The city gates opened, and several people entered the city.

The city defense officer approached: "You encountered a horde of monsters? How did you get so badly injured?"

The veteran shook his head: "A few skeleton soldiers and three zombies, that's not many."

The city defense officer frowned: "Then what should we do..."

The veteran interrupted him: "Our fighting spirit is malfunctioning; it diminishes with each use and cannot be replenished."

Upon hearing this, the city defense officer subconsciously activated his internal fighting spirit, and his expression changed.

"How is this possible?"

The news spread throughout the city.

All professionals have discovered that battle qi is depleted with each use, and its recovery is extremely slow.

A middle-aged man in armor sat on the steps, looking at his hands.

He served as a soldier for twenty years, and now he can't even hold a sword steadily.

The city defense officer stood on the city wall, watching the wandering spirits in the distant mist.

Skeleton soldiers, zombies, and ghouls are increasing in number.

If they attack the city, these warriors, who have lost their fighting spirit, simply cannot defend it!