Becoming an adventurer by copying monster abilities

The one who sleeps forever.

Also known as the Ferryman of the End.

Within the vast and boundless system of professions and beliefs on the continent of Rildran.

It is also an extremely special and awe-inspiring existence.

They are also one of the few elite clergy groups within the cult of King Cranvor of the Dead, possessing their own exclusive titles.

Unlike believers who spread doctrines.

The long-term caregivers are more dedicated to comforting those struggling in pain at the end of their lives.

To guide lost souls to accept death with equanimity.

And that is their greatest passion, and their primary purpose for wandering to every corner of the mainland.

It is to purify all undead creatures that violate the natural cycle.

In the eyes of those who guide the eternal rest, death is not an end or punishment, but an orderly and inevitable part of the journey of life.

Therefore, when they faced those undead creatures who attempted to escape judgment, imprisoning their souls in rotting flesh and withered bones with blasphemous spells.

There was never the slightest bit of pity.

In accordance with the doctrine of respecting the natural cycle of life, the long-sleeping guides will impose the most severe punishment on these heretics who disrupt the balance.

Never die.

And Cranvo will also provide blessings and assistance to these believers who faithfully practice His ideas.

Each longsword of the longsleeper can form a supernatural connection with the artifact "Deadly Touch" in the hands of Death.

This will activate part of the evil-dispelling power carried by that divine artifact.

It has an absolute restraining effect on all undead creatures in the prime material plane, like a dimensional reduction attack.

The instant the intricate patterns on the ring stop rotating.

Before Luke stood the tranquil church and the simple gray stone tombstone, and the peacefully sleeping guide, Derian, with a gentle smile on his face.

They all collapsed in an instant, like a mirage, amidst a ripple of water.

In the external reality, however, only a moment has passed.

The nauseating stench of the sewers and the bone-chilling cold of death once again flooded his senses like a tidal wave.

Luke knew that the brief conversation he had just experienced was not a fleeting memory he had while on the verge of death.

The evidence was the exquisitely designed, black and white hand-and-a-half-sword he held in his hand at that moment.

...

Not far away, the necromancer, who had been completely transformed into an undead creature through the sacrifice at the black stone altar, was now hovering in mid-air.

Only bare, skeletal hands controlled the nearly liquefied, dense storm of death energy.

It relentlessly squeezed and eroded the two foolish, overconfident guys below who had driven him into such a desperate situation.

Within the deep, hollow eye sockets, two crimson flames of the soul flickered intensely.

That's a morbid pleasure that only comes from slaughtering and toying with living beings.

In order to prolong this enjoyable time, he did not intend to drain the two of their life force all at once.

Instead, he prepared to slowly envelop the opponent with death energy, watching them gradually go from resistance to despair, and finally turn them into his undead servants.

This process can effectively alleviate the excruciating pain caused by the injury in his chest.

However, just as the black death aura, mixed with countless magical particles, was about to completely close in...

A faint yet familiar white light, like a lighthouse suddenly illuminating the night, dispelled all the deathly aura around them.

"How...is this possible?"

During their previous encounters, the necromancer had already figured out the two men's strengths and weaknesses.

The black-haired youth with the sword possessed a strange spatial displacement ability and could even unleash evocation-based fireball spells.

At best, he's just someone like an "Arcane Knight," or some kind of physical damage dealer with a special bloodline.

That woman, on the other hand, was a nature druid who was as pure as could be.

The methods are nothing more than deforming and manipulating those unsightly plants.

Neither of them had used Krannona's ability to control the undead.

Clearly, they were not among the Slumberbringers.

As for the faint, familiar aura he had sensed on that black-haired youth that he instinctively loathed.

After a brief analysis, the necromancer concluded that:

The other party most likely only had some contact with the followers of death in some ruins or from some dead person.

This put his mind at ease, allowing him to use his abilities, even though they would be absolutely countered by Kranz's divine power.

But for ordinary creatures, the death storm is even more difficult to deal with and more cruel.

Then he saw the prey that had been struggling and resisting, now holding a long sword out of thin air.

That oddly shaped, white-glowing hand-and-a-half-sword was all too familiar to the necromancer.

The horrific wound that pierced his heart, still imbued with divine power and unable to heal for a long time, was a gift from him.

"Fatal Touch (Imitation) can deal more powerful counter-damage to undead creatures and has the effect of purifying all death energy."

This is what Derian said to Luke.

And the actual results were indeed as described.

The deathly aura that had been like a raging flood vanished the moment the longsword appeared, like water droplets falling onto a red-hot iron.

Accompanied by a "sizzling" sound, it began to fade quickly.

As the light on the longsword grew brighter, the death aura was gradually and completely suppressed.

The entire black barrier suddenly became completely empty.

And those lowest-ranking giant rat undead who had just crawled out of the ground, merely transformed into living corpses by being forcibly tainted by high concentrations of death energy.

He couldn't even let out a scream. Under the shroud of this holy halo, his body rapidly weathered away and collapsed into dust once more.

The red light in the necromancer's eyes was almost extinguished by the sudden appearance of the longsword.

It flickered twice before stabilizing again.

"It's haunting me!"

With extreme fear, the necromancer let out a hysterical scream.

For someone who had become an undead creature to utter such words was truly comical.

His response was Luke's figure gradually approaching.

At this moment, Luke was just like the black-robed mage who had just been transformed into an undead.

I am constantly feeling the immense power surging through my body.

The feeling was like receiving divine baptism at the Losanda Church in Lane City.

The continuous infusion of life force allowed his almost broken muscle fibers to be repaired rapidly.

The dizziness caused by mental exhaustion vanished instantly.

All the injuries and fatigue on my body completely disappeared in that short moment.

Therefore, Luca no longer hesitated to use combat skills.

The necromancer, who was in a state of extreme panic and hastily retreating, suddenly felt the death energy that had just retreated to his side begin to dissolve in large swaths.

Immediately afterwards, in the spot that had been cleared by divine power, Luke's illusory yet real figure was right in front of them.

His left hand wielded the Ash Lord's crimson flames, while his right hand simultaneously unleashed the ogre's terrifying power.

At this moment, the tide has turned.

This time, it's Luke's turn to enter the second phase!