Chapter 49: The Conductor's Procession

The undead army did not move quickly.

Yet, the uniform sound of grinding metal and clashing bone carried a rhythm that seemed to swallow heartbeats, a relentless cadence that shattered the dead silence of the wasteland with every step.

Celeste and Selene pressed themselves flat against the cold rock, suppressing their breathing to the barest whisper.

The aura of death, so thick it felt tangible, washed over them in a suffocating wave, making the very air feel viscous and chilling.

Selene felt the Holy Light within her grow sluggish, like a warm stream suddenly flowing into a frozen riverbed, its current slowing to a crawl.

While it was far from unusable, the stifling sensation of her power being so thoroughly suppressed made her brow furrow in discomfort.

She gripped the hilt of her sword, the “Light of Dawn,” her palm slick with cold sweat.

The faint holy radiance clinging to the blade stubbornly resisted the encroaching darkness within this vast domain of death.

“Sister…

are we really not falling back?” she asked, her low voice laced with a tremor she couldn’t quite conceal.

“Don’t be afraid.” Celeste’s voice was quiet, but it held a strange, unshakable calm.

She reached out and pressed a hand gently on her sister’s shoulder.

A soft, pink-tinged energy flowed from her palm into Selene’s body.

The chilling sensation clinging to her was instantly dispelled by more than half.

Selene even felt her stiff muscles relax as the Holy Light within her began to circulate with renewed vigor.

It was the “Blessing of the Pink Fairy Lady.” Despite the blessing’s frankly garish light pollution, its effectiveness against the corrosion of negative energy was surprisingly potent.

The pure, almost nonsensical concept of “cuteness” and “beauty” it embodied was, in its own way, the natural enemy of all things dark and evil.

Selene shot her sister a grateful look, only to notice that while Celeste’s expression was grave, a near-scorching light was burning in her beautiful eyes.

Her entire focus was locked onto the marching route of the undead legion.

“Look,” Celeste said, gesturing with her chin.

“They’re moving with purpose.” “Their formation is tight, their direction is unified.

This isn’t some random wandering.

It’s more like they’re executing an order…

heading to a specific location.” “Executing an order?” Selene followed her gaze.

“With a display this massive, where could they possibly be going?” “I don’t know,” Celeste admitted, her mind racing.

“But we’re about to find out.” This undead army was undoubtedly the final challenge of the domain assessment—or rather, the “key” to unlocking the final boss.

Its appearance meant the last stage of the trial had been forcibly triggered, and by sheer chance, they were the first examinees to stumble upon this secret.

It was a colossal danger, but also a colossal opportunity.

“We’re following them.” Celeste made a decision that sent a prickle of dread across Selene’s scalp.

“Ah?!” Selene was stunned.

“Follow…

follow them?

Those wraiths are floating in the sky!

We’ll be spotted the second we stick our heads out!” The coverage of the undead army was simply too vast.

Wraith sentinels patrolled the flanks, expanding their reconnaissance range to a terrifying degree.

Following on foot would be no different from voluntarily jumping into a meat grinder.

“Who said anything about using our legs?” Celeste glanced at her sister, her eyes clearly saying, ‘Did you forget something important?’ Selene froze for a moment.

Then, as if recalling something hilarious, she looked from her sister to the night sky above, her expression shifting into a complex cocktail of emotions.

It was a mix of thirty percent excitement, forty percent curiosity, and a whopping ninety-three percent schadenfreude that she barely managed to contain.

“Sister…

you’re not going to…” “What other choice do we have?” Celeste retorted, exasperated.

“You want to play hide-and-seek with hundreds of undead on the ground?” In their current situation, ground-based tracking was suicide.

The only way to break the stalemate was to use the flight ability of the “Venti Trial Card” and shadow them from a safe altitude.

“But…

that look is just too…” The moment Selene pictured her sister transforming into that green bard, the corners of her mouth lost all control, threatening to split her face with a grin.

“Is this really the time to be worried about my image?” Celeste scolded righteously, though inwardly, she was bleeding.

She could already foresee the scene: the moment she appeared before her sister in that shameful outfit again, she wouldn’t be met with admiration, but with a fresh round of ruthless mockery.

But for victory, for the points, for that solitary champion’s throne…

a little dignity was a necessary sacrifice on the road to glory.

‘Gotta do what you gotta do for the W,’ she told herself.

Resolutely, she turned away and skillfully issued the command in her mind.

‘Use Venti Trial Card.’ The familiar, gentle breeze wrapped around her once more.

Her pink hair and holy priest robes dissolved like an illusion, replaced in an instant by a bright green capelet, white stockings, and those two iconic, braided pigtails.

“Pfft…” As expected, Selene’s poorly suppressed snort of laughter came from right behind her.

Celeste, now in her Venti form, turned around slowly.

She wasn’t angry.

Instead, she placed a hand on her chest and gave her sister an elegant, violinist-style bow.

“So, my lovely traveler,” she chirped, her voice becoming light and melodic.

“Are you ready to begin our high-altitude sightseeing tour?” She winked.

“Destination—the grand gathering of the dead!” Before the words had even faded, a gentle updraft formed beneath their feet.

“Come on, let the wind take us for a ride!” The two of them rose into the air again.

This time, Celeste flew higher and farther, putting over a kilometer of distance between them and the undead army.

From this height, the tide of bones on the ground below became a silent, writhing shadow.

At a hundred meters in the air, they were just two insignificant specks, completely safe from detection.

“See that?” Celeste pointed toward the distant horizon, her voice carried on the wind.

“Their final stop is right over there.

It seems a grand ‘concert’ is about to begin.” Following her finger, Selene narrowed her eyes.

At the edge of the world, the silhouette of a massive, dilapidated building loomed in the pale starlight.

It was a church of ancient design.

Its spire had collapsed, and its walls were covered in a web of cracks and dark moss.

Yet it still stood, stubbornly defiant, radiating an eerie aura that was a twisted mix of solemnity and deep evil.

A dark energy, even thicker and purer than that of the undead army, pulsed from the church, spreading like ink in water to pollute the entire wasteland.

“Is that…

their nest?” Selene murmured.

“I’m afraid so.” Celeste’s expression grew more serious.

“That ‘conductor,’the Death Knight, is likely heading there to stand guard.

Or…

perhaps to welcome a more important’special guest’.” A terrible guess began to form in her mind.

The final boss of this domain wasn’t the Undead Knight.

It was whatever was hiding inside that church.

They circled like hawks, trailing the undead army from afar as it marched inexorably toward the dilapidated structure.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived in the vicinity of the church.

Celeste chose a high hillside to land, one with an open view that allowed them to overlook the entire building while remaining concealed in the shadow of a natural rock formation.

The instant her feet touched the ground, she dispelled the transformation, reverting to her pink-haired priest form with a long sigh of relief.

Her own appearance was still far more comfortable.

Selene landed lightly beside her, the lingering thrill of flight still on her face.

“Sister, what now?

We just wait here?” “Mm, we observe first,” Celeste nodded.

“This is the eye of the storm.

I have a feeling we won’t be the only ones in the audience.” As if on cue, a faint sound of rolling gravel echoed from a deeper shadow not far away.

The two sisters instantly went on alert, hands flying to their weapons.

Three figures emerged slowly from the darkness.

The leader was a young man in a fiery red mage robe, his expression radiating arrogance.

A cluster of orange-red flame danced on his fingertips, coalescing into a miniature, flapping firebird—a display of elemental control far beyond that of his peers.

Flanking him were a brawny man with bulging muscles carrying a giant axe, and a female assassin shrouded in shadows, her graceful figure the only thing visible.

This squad was well-equipped, their auras steady.

They were clearly a top-tier team that had fought their way here.

They, too, had been drawn by the movement of the undead army, and a flicker of surprise crossed their faces upon seeing that someone had already beaten them to the vantage point.

The red-robed mage’s gaze swept over the two sisters.

When his eyes fell on Selene’s magnificent shield and the blindingly pure Holy Light emanating from Celeste, the arrogance in his eyes tempered slightly.

“Anyone who can make it this far is no fool,” he announced, his voice loud and confident.

“Linjiang No.

1 High, Zhao Shihao.

Our squad is a joint team from the city’s top three schools.

It seems we were all drawn to the ‘main event’.” Selene remained vigilant, her shield angled slightly forward to cover half of her sister’s body.

Celeste met his gaze calmly, her voice cool.

“Yi City No.

7 High, Celeste.

This is my sister, Selene.” Zhao Shihao noted their impregnable defensive posture, a flash of appreciation in his eyes.

“A paladin and a priest, just the two of you making it this far?

Your strength is worthy of respect.

In this situation, fighting alone is just asking for death.

We’ve got plenty of damage output, but we’re lacking a trustworthy front line and a healer.

Interested in a temporary team-up?” His proposal was direct and pragmatic.

Any squad that had survived this long and had the guts to trail the final boss understood the principle of strength in numbers.

Celeste shook her head gently.

“Thank you for the offer, but we’re used to working as a pair.” Being rejected so bluntly didn’t seem to anger Zhao Shihao.

Instead, he let out a hearty laugh.

“I get it.

In that case, I hope that if our goals align, we can at least avoid being enemies.

Let’s call it a truce, how about it?” “Agreed,” Celeste replied lightly.

Just then, two more groups emerged from different directions, converging on the area at almost the same time.

To the left was a full four-person squad—Warrior, Mage, Priest, and Assassin.

Their equipment was uniform, and their movements carried a hint of military discipline; they were clearly an ace team from a major high school.

To the right were only two people: a swordsman, silent as a mountain, carrying a greatsword as large as a door panel, and a female mage holding a crystal ice staff, her entire body exuding a evident chill.

In the blink of an eye, the small hillside had gathered four squads, a total of eleven people.

Their gazes crossed, each team sizing up the others before inevitably fixing on the dark church that was now swallowing the last of the undead army.

A strange, hair-trigger tension settled over the hilltop.

They were all potential allies.

And they were all each other’s most dangerous competitors.

At that moment, the Undead Knight, having reached the church doors, abruptly pulled the reins of his skeletal warhorse.

He turned his head slowly.

The two clusters of pale, soulfire-white light in his helmet flared, and somehow, they spanned the thousand-meter distance to scan the face of every single student on the hillside with absolute, chilling precision.

“ROOOOAR—!!!” A guttural, inhuman roar, saturated with violence and the stench of death, erupted from his chest, echoing across the entire wasteland.

The very earth began to tremble violently.

[Elysian’s Note: Having a good time with the story?

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