Sixty mages encircled Samilian high above the Imperial Capital. As their commander, Fanna struck first. Incantations danced from her wand, weaving intricate magical arrays—interlocking rings flared into a spectacular formation. In the next second, a fire dragon surged forth and swallowed Samilian whole.

Just as victory seemed assured, inky death miasma corroded the dragon’s belly. The magic circle crumbled to dust. The miasma twisted into a vortex, shredding the beast. Samilian emerged from its heart, sneering, bone scepter in hand.

"Foolish humans! Foolish mages!" He raised his scepter. "Rot!"

The black miasma coalesced around him like a living thing, forming a colossal skeletal figure that shrieked ear-splittingly. The encircling mages unleashed their spells—fireballs, ice lances, lightning—bombarding the skeleton like a storm.

"Fall back! All units, disengage!" Fanna commanded instantly.

Mages retreated swiftly, but a few hesitated. The giant skeleton lashed out with withered arms, snatching the slowest. Their bodies withered in the miasma, collapsing into bones. Crimson light flared in the hollow sockets of the newly risen skeletons. The fallen mages, now Death Servants, turned their necrotic flames against their former comrades.

Mages were powerful—but still human. Mortal. Against Samilian, the self-proclaimed King of the Dead, they were fatally mismatched. Fanna gritted her teeth, erecting a barrier against the necrotic flames. Minutes ago, those undead had been her allies. Now, twisted by Samilian’s will, they attacked without hesitation.

Casualties mounted. Several mages plummeted to their deaths.

"At this rate, we’ll be annihilated!" Oleg teleported beside her. "Lady Fanna, retreat!"

"But—" Fanna clenched her fists. "You’re right. We’re outmatched. All units, withdraw! Maximize distance!"

"A wise choice, Archmage."

The mages pulled back. Though spells still crisscrossed the sky, the momentum of their ambush had vanished. Fanna channeled her mana, forging three blazing runes. She merged them into a complex array—a colossal fireball slammed into the black skeleton. A blinding flash erupted over the Imperial Capital.

"Retreat!" Fanna ordered. "All units, evacuate the capital! Abort mission!"

A skeletal hand suddenly pierced the explosion, seizing Fanna. Her barrier flickered desperately as death miasma ate through it, riddling it with holes.

"Lady Fanna!"

"Oleg! Take command!" Fanna burned her mana to reinforce the barrier. "Get everyone out! I’ll cover your retreat!"

"Understood." Oleg bowed slightly. "May your blade stay sharp."

The mages vanished—some via flight spells, others through spatial rifts. Within moments, only Fanna remained, gripped by the black skeleton.

"Damn you, Samilian!" She activated a new array. "Perish with me!"

Unprecedented power erupted. Fanning her life force, Fanna triggered the First Tier annihilation spell: *Heaven’s Scorching Judgment*. Compressed for aerial use, it detonated, shattering the skeleton. The shockwave slammed into the city below. Imperial Capital’s elegant spires crumbled to rubble. The blast rippled outward, flattening everything in its path.

Minutes later, the fire faded. Gravely wounded, Fanna plummeted. She glared up at Samilian, unscathed and smirking. Though his skeleton and Death Servants were ash, the core of his power remained untouched.

"So this… is a Death Servant," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Too strong…"

Samilian floated, watching her fall. He pondered how to use the Archmage’s corpse, then noticed the ruined cityscape below. A sea of crimson debris caught his eye—white bones jutted from shattered flesh like tombstones. Recognition struck: his beloved flesh golems, destroyed. Rage consumed him.

*BOOM!* A 120mm HE shell slammed into him. Fire bloomed in the sky. Then came a hail of 30mm depleted uranium rounds, tearing through his form like rotten cloth. Above, the gunship *Sky Reaper* roared into position, its left-side weapon array blazing.

"Don’t overreach!" Samilian gathered his power. "Lifeless metal! How dare human craft challenge me!"

Death miasma surged like a tidal wave, corroding the gunship’s hull. The massive frame tilted. Metal decayed rapidly—the 120mm howitzer and 30mm Gatling guns rusted into slag. Crews fought the controls as the main frame disintegrated. The *Sky Reaper* snapped in half, crashing down. Its wreckage dissolved into black sludge, vanishing completely.

"The Fragment of Creation!" Samilian laughed wildly. "Hahahaha! A treasure indeed! If that fragment resides within that girl… I’ll claim it! I’ll become a god! HAHAHAHA!"

He descended slowly, summoning an army of the dead. They shambled through streets, a black tide advancing toward the fortress held by the Imperial Capital Guard. But the fortress stood empty. Under Marshal Moura’s command, the Imperial Army had evacuated civilians.

A lone girl stood before the abandoned gates. Black mire churned at her feet. Her left eye was pitch-black; silver hair on that side stained dark. She looked like a vengeful oni. Behind her stood a Headless Knight in black armor, cradling its own head in one arm, an Alien Demon Sword gripped in the other. Death miasma poured from them both.

"Not enough… not enough!" Mio tilted her head skyward. Samilian’s ritual neared completion. Soon, the entire capital would be dragged into the Netherworld—a true city of the dead. Yet her hollow chest felt like a black hole, devouring all emotion, leaving only darkness.

The Headless Knight tightened its grip on its sword. Armor plates scraped. Mio’s gaze leveled ahead. A wave of undead filled the street. Samilian floated above them, robes trembling with triumph like a victorious general.

"Ahhh…" Mio murmured. "Truly… not enough."

As if answering her will, the mire surged. A black quadrupedal mech rose from the sludge. Unlike standard models armed with 100mm railguns, this "Terminator"-class unit bristled with twin 20mm rotary cannons, dual 55mm grenade launchers, and Metal Storm systems on its turret. All weapons locked on the undead horde.

"Eliminate them," Mio ordered coldly.

Samilian threw up a barrier—a shield of death miasma that decayed anything it touched. But the mech didn’t fire first. Landmines hidden along the street detonated simultaneously. Shockwaves and shrapnel ripped through the undead ranks. Before smoke cleared, windows in flanking buildings burst open—barrels emerged. Ghostface Army snipers appeared on rooftops. Grenades rained down. Gauss rifles and machine guns roared in unison.

Surviving undead were caught in crossfire. Slow, mindless zombies and skeletons—unstoppable as a flood, helpless in an ambush. At the street’s end, the "Terminator" unleashed hell. Cannon fire swept the avenue like a storm. Above, Samilian became a sitting duck. A particle beam vaporized his lower body. A squad of Ghostface soldiers concentrated fire. He was shredded like cloth.

"Insolent humans!" Samilian unleashed his domain. "ROT!"

Black miasma swallowed the street, engulfing the Ghostface soldiers in their black combat armor. But crimson lights glowed within the darkness. Through night-vision visors, the Ghostface continued their slaughter—utterly unaffected by the death miasma.

"What?!" Samilian roared. "Why does my power fail?!"

"Because they’re already dead," Mio said flatly. "In the Northern Wastes, at Frostwind Fortress—I consumed countless lives and souls. Now they serve me. I gave them the best gear. The finest weapons. Their loyalty is only natural."

"Impossible! There can only be one King of the Dead!"

"True," Mio raised her sword. "But you’re about to die, Samilian."

*Vvvvvvv—* A pale blue Destructive Force Field crackled along her liquid-metal blade. The mire surged, coating her body in black Powered Armor. The Night Watch insignia gleamed on its shoulders. Mio knew this armor well—it was standard Night Watch issue.

She stomped the ground. The two-meter-tall steel titan charged. Jet thrusters blazed on its back, accelerating her forward. Samilian layered barrier after barrier. Mio’s sword slashed down—shattering them all in one stroke.

"ROT!" Samilian recoiled, unleashing more miasma. Buildings touching it crumbled to dust. Mio charged straight through the black cloud. Her sword sheared off Samilian’s right hand. A backswing ripped his cloak apart.

The tattered robe fell away. Beneath lay a rotting corpse—an old man’s body. Pallid skin mottled with decay. Clouded eyes. Yellowed teeth bared through withered lips, crusted with plaque.

"Why?! Why does my power fail you?!"

"It works perfectly… on the living," Mio sneered. "But I died long ago. You relied too much on necromancy. Our natures clash."

"Lies! You deceive me!"

"Samilian," Mio said, almost pitying. "I must remind you—you’re dead too."

"I’m not dead!" Samilian shrieked. "I’ll uncover Death’s truth! I’ll surpass those lapdogs in the Association! I’ll achieve immortality!"

"Pitiful." Mio lifted her sword. "But… still not enough."

"What… not enough?"

Samilian stared at the steel giant before him. Powerful Spirit Energy erupted from her body. The Spirit Furnace on her Powered Armor’s back roared to full speed, spewing Platinum-hued light particles.

“Final safety lock disengaged!” The longsword in Mio’s hand transformed. The hilt extended twenty centimeters downward; the blade doubled in size, becoming a menacing two-handed greatsword.

“You…” Samilian sensed the danger. “What are you doing?!”

Then Mio uttered the activation command: “Godslayer!”

Alarms blared in Samilian’s mind. He shattered the amulet around his neck instantly. A spatial transfer array flared to life, ready to teleport him away—but it was too late! In a flash, the blade wreathed in Destructive Force Field pierced the array, shattering it. The glowing sword plunged deep into Samilian’s body. Soul Collapse consumed him immediately, disintegrating his form into basic particles.

“How… could this…” Samilian’s head hit the ground, slowly dissolving into light particles. “I… am… the King of the Dead… I… won’t… die…”

Whoosh! The Force Field Sword skewered his skull.

“Is that your last words?” Mio said coldly. “How pathetic.”

As Mio withdrew her blade, a mass of black Shadow materialized behind her. Iduchi burst from the miasma cloud, lidless eyes wide, mouth curved in a grin.

“Mio—!” He raised his sword. “Die!”