Chapter Twelve: Advance and Retreat

The so-called purification method in battle essentially involved fighting with a special buff, delivering both physical and spiritual attacks simultaneously to directly annihilate the souls of the undead.

After all, these were corpses from over two centuries ago; their souls’ consciousness had long since faded. Purification was more about preventing them from turning into vengeful spirits—not to make them better, but to stop them from becoming worse.

It was simpler to just destroy their souls entirely, avoiding the tedious task of purifying each one after the fight.

Eric could only marvel at how decisive and ruthless the Holy City’s people were. Still, he had no objections; after all, he could learn a skill for free.

“...Please focus, Mr. Eric.”

Snapping back to attention, he saw the nun before him was patiently teaching him the techniques of divine magic.

“Yes, please continue, Sister Alena.”

The nun clasped her hands over her chest. Her calm gaze scanned his face briefly before lowering again.

“To borrow the power of the divine, the first step is always to calm your heart and mind, visualizing the image of Yera...”

She explained with the care of guiding a novice acolyte. Eric listened intently, striving to remember and comprehend every word before fully grasping the concept.

Sister Alena repeated the instructions twice. Unlike his previous studies, the moment of comprehension was clearer and more vivid than ever.

[You have mastered the technique ‘Judgment Blade.’]

‘Judgment Blade’: A divine skill that imbues a weapon with holy power, dealing additional holy attribute damage. Enhanced by ‘Faith.’ More effective against undead targets. Requirements: Spirit 5, Faith 8.

“How does it feel? Do you understand?”

Seeing Eric’s fixed gaze, Alena assumed he was struggling, as this divine skill was indeed harder to grasp than ‘Soul Purification.’

“No problem.”

Eric nodded quickly, raised his longsword, and began chanting, “Supreme deity Yera, please grant me the power to cleanse evil—”

As he prayed, a faint golden light enveloped the blade, gradually covering the entire sword.

This was a skill originally available to players in the game—a form of weapon enchantment, but the effect was limited to oneself. For most clerics with supportive roles, it was merely an added bonus.

Eric was different; he was a damage dealer who struck decisively, so any personal enhancement translated directly to combat power.

Watching Eric’s glowing longsword, Alena realized he had fully mastered the divine technique she taught and felt a faint sense of awe.

Unlike magic, divine skills draw power from the gods. Talent wasn’t crucial—provided one had a basic understanding—deeper faith meant quicker comprehension and stronger divine power.

Conversely, faster understanding also proved the sincerity of one’s faith.

But this didn’t seem entirely true for Eric—if he were truly devout, how could he brazenly fake miracles?

Alena pondered this in vain, concluding that the true god Yera must be merciful and tolerant of her followers.

“Is there any problem?”

Seeing Alena lost in thought after Eric’s demonstration, he asked.

“No problem at all.”

She looked at him deeply once more, then shifted her gaze to his sword. “This will enable you to perform purification during battle.”

With the lesson complete, they joined the other clerics purifying the remaining corpses, then pressed deeper into the mine tunnel.

Leslie walked ahead, occasionally glancing back to exchange words, but his eyes couldn’t help fixating on the golden glow radiating from the young master’s longsword.

---

When Leslie found out he couldn’t get his own sword to glow, he was disappointed for a while. He didn’t understand the young master’s talk about someday obtaining a +10 glowing weapon.

They hadn’t gone far when chaotic footsteps echoed from the tunnel ahead—more undead were coming.

Eric tightened his grip on the longsword and noticed the nun beside him now wielded a dagger, glowing far brighter than his sword.

“Sister Alena?”

“For efficiency,” she said, holding the dagger and looking at him. “I’ll protect myself and won’t interfere with you.”

She was joining the battle directly.

Eric had no objections, and the captain of the guards remained silent as Alena charged ahead, aiming first to eliminate the most threatening ranged attackers hiding in the back.

To save effort, he didn’t kill them outright but hacked off arms and legs to incapacitate them.

Looking back at the battlefield, Eric was steadily cutting through the horde of rotten corpses with his glowing sword. It seemed he could kill the undead completely without needing to behead them; two or three strikes brought one down.

The nun with her dagger moved like a poised assassin, striking vital points each time. The dagger pierced the undead’s heart as she murmured prayers.

Other guards mostly assisted by disabling the undead, leaving the finishing moves to Eric and Alena.

When Eric reached Leslie’s side and dispatched two ranged attackers with swift sword strikes, the battle ended.

“This is much more efficient,” Eric said, panting as he scanned the corpses and the remaining undead.

“The downside is that each undead must be personally slain by you or Sister Alena,” Leslie said. “Once or twice is fine, but too many times like this would be exhausting.”

Eric smiled, sheathing his weapon and checking his status panel.

“I couldn’t ask for more.”

Leslie had the impression that after each battle, the young master grew stronger and more agile.

After several observations, he was certain he wasn’t mistaken.

Such astonishing growth and adaptability! Leslie thought. Truly worthy of being a descendant of the Gimeno family—the young master was a born warrior.

They gathered the undead’s bones to the side and pressed onward, repeating the cycle of combat and exploration.

Undead came in waves, increasing in number.

Fighting them was no challenge for the lord’s party; these low-level rotten corpses were all dead meat.

But as they delved deeper, many undead seemed to abandon attacking. They appeared reckless, desperate to flee the cavern.

Stopping them all became a new challenge.

“...What’s going on with these undead?” Leslie swung his sword, cleaving one in half, but two others ignored him and ran past.

He dodged behind one, piercing it through with his sword, while Eric intercepted the other.

“Let’s deal with them first.”

Though he said this casually, Eric was puzzled: if anything posed a threat, it was them, the living. What could they possibly fear?

Wait—these undead were mostly controlled by the mini-boss inside. Were they trying to use these cannon fodder to break through the defense and escape?

“Watch out for the unusual undead,” Eric warned.

---

Leslie blocked an attack from a rotten corpse and sliced it in two. “How do we tell which ones are unusual?”

“...By instinct!”

After ten years, Eric only remembered the first boss was a magic-type monster; he had no idea what it looked like now. These rotten corpses looked almost identical, making visual identification impossible.

By instinct, huh...

Leslie pondered but had no clue what that meant. He only knew none could be left alive.

“Miles, block that one!”

“Sean, come to my side!”

He skillfully commanded his guards, but the strange situation persisted.

Waves of undead attacked relentlessly, battles became more frequent, and they had to intercept those fleeing. The party had little time to rest.

“Master, at this rate, no one will hold out.”

During a lull, Leslie approached Eric. “We don’t know what’s going on with these undead. Let’s retreat for now—as long as we stop them from escaping the mine.”

Eric, breathless after the last fight and with his sword nearly dulled, simply nodded.

Leslie was also exhausted but still had some stamina left to shout:

“Don’t crowd! Begin retreating now!”

The lord’s party changed direction, fighting while retreating. Clerics who couldn’t contribute and might be attacked were sent out earlier.

Alena remained in combat but conserved her strength, often finishing off undead disabled by the guards.

Transitioning from advance to retreat, Leslie stayed at the rear facing the undead, Eric guarded the other flank, leading the team outward, occasionally intercepting any that slipped through.

The mine was deep and winding; they had to retrace their steps as far as they had come.

The relentless fatigue accumulated faster and faster. Eric at the rear felt it most keenly—teammates were missing enemies.

Another group of undead surged from the tunnels. The guards fought fiercely to block them, but three slipped through. Eric nearly spat blood.

Fortunately, Alena was nearby, rushing over to stab one in the back with her dagger, stopping it.

Seizing the moment, Eric kicked the lead undead down, then swung his sword at another behind it.

“Ugh!”

The undead, which had only been fleeing, suddenly surged forward, lunging at him.

Eric was startled but remained composed. His longsword, buffed with ‘Judgment Blade’ multiple times, stabbed through the undead’s open mouth.

A faintly abnormal rush of experience accompanied the golden light. Eric realized both his classes had reached the level cap and needed to change professions; otherwise, he couldn’t gain more experience.

He intended to open his panel and switch classes, but suddenly noticed the fallen undead rapidly get up and sprint forward without looking back.

“Damn, it runs so fast!”