Chapter 119: An Unexpected Surprise

“You’ll get what you deserve for this!”

Kent felt an immense force coil tightly around his body, binding him fast before dragging him away. Yet he refused to let go of Daphne. Even as the tremendous force lifted them both into the air, he kept his arms locked firmly around her, glaring at Joko and Mandar with burning hatred as he ground out the words through clenched teeth.

“Get what I deserve?” Mandar sneered. “Then let’s see what kind of retribution this greatsword of mine can bring you!”

Seeing how tightly Kent clung to Daphne, Mandar grew increasingly irritated. The dark elf girl was his prey, after all, and he had no intention of allowing a mere human to interfere with his meal.

With that, Mandar reached over his shoulder and drew the greatsword strapped to his back. A pale gray radiance burst from the weapon, extending a full half meter beyond the blade itself.

He raised the greatsword high above his head, took a powerful stride forward, and swung it viciously toward the arm Kent had wrapped around Daphne.

“Kent! No!”

“Mandar, stop!”

As Daphne watched the greatsword come crashing down toward them, she let out a desperate scream.

Joko was equally alarmed. Absorbing Kent’s memories would take considerable time, and if Mandar injured him now, there was no telling whether she would still be able to extract every last fragment. If even a few crucial memories were lost, all her painstaking efforts would be wasted.

Without a moment’s hesitation, a surge of gray-white light erupted around Joko and shot straight toward Mandar.

It was one of the Ghost Clan’s innate abilities—Psychic Shock.

But it was already too late.

Mandar’s greatsword was about to cleave through Kent’s shoulder when, without warning, the Death Knight suddenly went limp and crumpled to the ground.

At that very instant, an unfamiliar voice rang out of nowhere.

“Bring those two to me. And make sure you hurry.”

“AAARGH!”

The moment the voice faded, Mandar began rolling across the ground, writhing in agony and letting out one bloodcurdling scream after another.

Joko’s face turned livid with rage.

She stood glaring coldly at Mandar as he writhed helplessly on the floor, practically seething with fury. If that damned Death Knight had not interfered, she would already have devoured Kent’s soul by now!

And just when everything had been about to go according to plan, the old fellow had suddenly intervened.

At that moment, Joko could hardly stand the sight of anyone.

Her gaze fell upon Kent’s bewildered expression, and her anger flared even hotter. If it had not been for that cunning human, would she ever have been forced to cross paths with Mandar in the first place?

And now there was the old fellow to contend with as well.

Hadn’t he been in seclusion? How could he have suddenly awakened without warning?

“Mandar, you and I are far from finished! Just you wait!”

Joko glared at the Death Knight, who lay crumpled on the ground, and spat out the threat through clenched teeth.

Then she beckoned with one hand.

Kent and Daphne immediately rose into the air, floating after her as she swept away toward the depths of the temple.

Only then did Kent begin to realize that he and Daphne might have escaped immediate danger—for the time being, at least.

But the brief relief did little to ease his growing unease.

Joko, the Phantom Wraith, moved with terrifying speed. And the mysterious voice that had appeared out of nowhere was even more unsettling.

Kent could not help wondering what kind of being this so-called old fellow really was.

One thing, however, was becoming increasingly clear: he and Daphne were in greater danger than ever.

After all, not just anyone possessed the power to render a Death Knight completely helpless without the slightest warning.

What Joko failed to notice in her fury was that, at the very instant she lifted Kent and Daphne into the air, a streak of blood-red light shot from the hand Kent had wrapped around Daphne’s waist.

The crimson streak shot straight toward Mandar, who was still sprawled helplessly on the ground.

The instant it touched the Death Knight, it burrowed into his body and disappeared.

Mandar evidently realized what had happened.

As he struggled back to his feet, his eyes widened and his mouth flew open in alarm.

But before he could utter a single cry, the sound was forcibly choked off.

He stood there with his mouth agape, unable to make a sound.

“Did it work?”

Kent felt a faint new connection form within his soul, and he could sense that it was linked to Mandar. He could hardly believe his luck.

What he had just cast was the Soul-Sealing Spell, a type of magic designed to seal away its target.

As Mandar was about to disappear into the distance, Kent’s thoughts shifted. In the very next instant, Mandar transformed into a streak of light and vanished. Far away, in a place no one could see, a flash of white light appeared, and Mandar’s mount disappeared as well.

The spell had succeeded. Mandar had been sealed away, and whenever Kent needed him, he could simply summon him forth.

“This is impossible! Mandar is at least a Level Eight Death Knight. The odds of your Soul-Sealing Spell succeeding against an opponent five levels above you are practically nonexistent. And somehow, you actually pulled it off. Poor Mandar. He really drew the short straw this time.”

Kent mentally calculated the probability of a Level Three mage successfully casting the Soul-Sealing Spell on a Level Eight opponent. All he got was a long string of zeros after the decimal point, followed by a lonely one at the very end.

He could not help feeling a little sorry for Mandar.

His first impulse was to release Mandar immediately and have him kill the Phantom Wraith Joko flying ahead of them. But then he thought of the mysterious old fellow, and his heart grew heavy.

The old fellow had appeared without warning and without making the slightest sound. If Kent killed Joko, no one could say for certain what the old fellow might do in retaliation.

“Damn it. I’ll take the gamble!”

After thinking it over, Kent made up his mind.

Since the old fellow was the ruler of this place, there was no way Kent could ever escape unless he dealt with the master first. Besides, he still had Mandar, a perfectly good cannon fodder, at his disposal.

Kent steeled himself. If things went badly, he would release Mandar and make him self-destruct. Even a Level Nine creature would suffer severe injuries from such an explosion. Kent had no illusions about actually killing the old fellow, but as long as he could create an opportunity to escape, that would be more than enough.

What Kent had failed to consider, however, was a rather important question.

If the old fellow could render a Level Eight Death Knight completely powerless in an instant, was he really only a Level Nine creature?

Kent felt that Joko had been carrying him and Daphne through the air for quite some time. Along the way, they passed all manner of undead creatures, each more unsettling than the last.

Yet Kent gradually realized that the region inhabited by these undead was not particularly vast. It seemed to cover no more than a few dozen square kilometers.

Every so often, Joko would take them farther down into the depths, following what appeared to be an enormous descending passageway. To Kent’s surprise, the route even had stairs.

That alone was enough to suggest that humans had once inhabited this place, though it must have been an extraordinarily long time ago. After all, undead creatures had no need for staircases.

“Magnificent!”

When Joko finally set Kent and Daphne down, the sight before them left Kent utterly astonished.

They had arrived in another enormous cavern, but this one was unlike anything Kent had ever seen.

A gigantic castle stood at its center.

The structure appeared to have been carved entirely from a single mass of stone. Its walls were seamless, without a single visible crack or joint, as though the entire castle had been sculpted from the rock itself.

The cavern surrounding it glittered with gemstones of every color, their brilliant hues illuminating the vast underground chamber.

Kent quickly realized what this place must be. They were standing inside a fractured section of a gemstone deposit. After all, gemstone veins and magic-crystal deposits were often found alongside one another.

“Bring them inside.”

A sudden voice startled both Kent and Daphne.

Yet when Kent looked around, he could not see anyone.

He could only force a bitter smile.

It seemed that he and Daphne had little hope of ever getting out of this place alive. The mysterious voice was frightening enough, but the countless undead magical creatures they had encountered along the way had already made his scalp prickle with dread.

“Daphne, if we have to die, then we’ll die together. Don’t be afraid.”

Kent tried to comfort her, holding her close.

“But why does this castle look so familiar?”

Daphne was no child. She understood perfectly well that they were trapped in a desperate situation, and she made no attempt to loosen her arms around Kent. Her mind, too, was wandering through a jumble of anxious thoughts.

But when she heard his final mutter, she could not help lifting her head.

Her wide eyes fixed curiously on Kent’s face.