...

In response to Lynch’s demand for surrender.

"ROAR~~"

The Black Corpse let out an angry roar.

’Even though I’m pinned down by this Hellhound Skeleton, and my Soul Fire has grown dim, this guy’s Spiritual Power is pathetic. He’s not even a real Mage. What gives him the right to demand my submission?’

Lynch wasn’t the least bit surprised by the Black Corpse’s resistance.

The Undead World had always respected strength, and this old Black Corpse was probably close to Tier Two. It was perfectly normal for it to look down on him.

However, if he just killed it and used the Skeleton Resurrection Skill, he would certainly get a Skeleton Servant.

But the probability of its Soul Fire igniting would be too low. Besides, even if it did, its power would plummet, and it would lose the defensive and strength advantages of a zombie.

One had to understand that even for a proper Necromancer, raising a corpse servant to the level of a Black Corpse was no easy task, let alone an ancient one like this. It would be a great shame to kill it.

’So, I need to try a softer approach...’ Lynch’s thoughts raced, and soon, a smile appeared on his face. "By the way, have you heard of Lester, the ’Ashbringer’?"

In Lynch’s estimation, this tomb had likely existed for over two hundred years. Moreover, it was located at a spot marked on one of Lester’s treasure maps...

The various clues intertwined, naturally leading Lynch to a bold guess.

Besides, there was no penalty for guessing wrong.

And the name Lester seemed to possess a Magic of its own.

The Black Corpse, which had been struggling resentfully, suddenly froze. Its Soul Fire flickered a few times.

This reaction made Lynch inwardly rejoice.

’It’s working!’

He continued with a calm expression, "Let me guess... In your past life, you were a noble of considerable status, weren’t you? Did you suffer from some incurable disease that even the Church of Light was helpless against? Or were you simply afraid of death, longing for... hmm, eternal life?"

As he spoke,

Lynch secretly observed the Black Corpse’s reaction. Seeing its Soul Fire fluctuate again, he knew he was on the right track.

"So, you came into contact with that ’Ashbringer,’ Lester. He probably showed you the miracles of Undead Magic and promised you could exist eternally in another form."

"You were moved. For this, you went so far as to build this tomb for yourself in advance, cooperating with some... ritual of his. You voluntarily transformed into a zombie, hoping to one day be reborn, or perhaps to continue wielding power as one of the Undead?"

Lynch’s speaking pace was neither fast nor slow.

But the Black Corpse’s Soul Fire flickered erratically. Although most of its memories from life were already hazy, Lynch had managed to stir some core ones, and for a moment, it seemed lost in recollection.

Seizing the opportunity, Lynch continued his deception, "In truth, I am Lester’s student. I have come here under my teacher’s guidance to save you and complete his unfinished business."

The Black Corpse’s Soul Fire flared violently.

Apparently, after becoming a zombie, not only had it lost most of its memories, but its intelligence had also severely degenerated.

It had clearly bought Lynch’s story.

Lynch struck while the iron was hot. "If you submit to me, once I’ve grown powerful enough, you will have a chance to become yourself again. Otherwise..."

He paused.

Lynch’s tone turned forceful. "I will beat you to death and turn you into one of my Skeletons."

"Now, I’ll ask you one last time."

"Submit, or be destroyed!"

The Black Corpse’s Soul Fire flickered and pulsed again. After a moment, it let out a low growl, seemingly expressing its willingness to submit.

Seeing this,

Lynch revealed a satisfied smile and ordered Red Rabbit to release its claws.

The Black Corpse struggled to its feet. Though still weak, it lowered its head to Lynch.

"Good. A wise choice."

Lynch extended his Magic Staff, stirring up a pale white light.

The light bored into the Black Corpse’s head. The Black Corpse struggled instinctively, letting out a series of low growls.

"Stop resisting and open your Soul Fire to me," Lynch commanded in a deep voice. "Otherwise, death is your only way out."

Only then did the Black Corpse stop roaring. As if obediently accepting its fate, it opened its Soul Fire, allowing Lynch’s Power of Death to invade and plant a Death Mark within it.

This Death Mark wasn’t a form of Magic, but a common technique among Necromancers used to plant a Death Mark within the Soul Fire of Undead Creatures.

This was also a measure born of necessity.

There was a fundamental difference between a wild Undead Creature like this and the ones Lynch converted himself, like Bone-Mage, Red Rabbit, and the others. The latter belonged to Lynch from the moment of their creation, bearing his Soul Mark in their Soul Fire, their loyalty maxed out from the start.

Communicating with them only required a direct mental link through the Soul Mark.

But for a wild creature like the Black Corpse, unless he formed a Soul Contract with it, he could only control it through a Death Mark. If it betrayed him, he could terminate it at any time by detonating the mark.

As for a Soul Contract, Lynch would have to reach the rank of a Tier One Necromancer and learn the Corpse Resurrection Skill before he would even get a contract slot for a corpse servant.

In the current situation, he could only use the Death Mark as a temporary measure.

Once the Death Mark was planted, Lynch could feel the Black Corpse had become much more docile. Moreover, he could now use the Death Mark as a medium to directly form a mental link and communicate with its Soul Fire.

The scene of the Black Corpse submitting played out before the three young women.

Shock and adoration were written all over their faces. ’Senior is so amazing! He can even subdue a monster like this.’

And although Lynch was gloating inwardly, he maintained the detached, aloof demeanor of a master.

Suppressing his delight, he focused his mind and issued a command to the Black Corpse through the Death Mark: "Take a few steps forward."

The Black Corpse’s Soul Fire flickered. It immediately understood, and with a low growl, it took a few steps forward. But because its injuries were so severe, its steps were somewhat unsteady and staggering.

Seeing this, Lynch lightly raised his skull-topped Magic Staff. A surge of death energy flowed out, instantly transforming into several streams of pale light that entered the Black Corpse’s body.

The Black Corpse’s body trembled, and it let out a few low growls, seeming to have regained some of its vigor.

But that wasn’t enough.

Lynch then called Bone-Mage, Bone Jade, and Bone Valor forward. Each shared some of their deathly aura with it. The Black Corpse’s condition immediately improved; at the very least, its movements were no longer hindered, and its Soul Fire had stabilized considerably.

After treating his new underling’s injuries, Lynch finally had a moment to survey the battlefield.

Gaining a Black Corpse was certainly a happy occasion.

But the casualties had been severe. The ground was littered with the wreckage of all kinds of Skeletons.

To hold back the Black Corpse earlier, the goblin fodder Skeletons and regular Humanoid Skeletons had been almost completely wiped out. Only a handful were still standing.

Those ordinary Skeletons were the foundation of the force he had painstakingly built up.

Fortunately, he still had the [Skeleton Resurrection Skill].

"Bone-Mage, time to get to work." After calling out, Lynch raised his own Magic Staff as well.

The man and the Skeleton began casting the Skeleton Resurrection Skill on the piles of bone debris littering the ground. Pale death energy washed over the area like a tide.

"CRACKLE CRACKLE..."

One by one, Skeletons rose again from the piles of bone.

They picked up their weapons and automatically rejoined the nearest squad.

However, many of the Skeletons had been smashed to pieces during the fight, so the resurrection rate wasn’t high. In the end, only about a dozen fodder Skeletons managed to successfully rise again.

Fortunately, the gains from this battle far outweighed the losses.

A long-lived Black Corpse on the verge of Tier Two with immense potential, plus over twenty zombies converted into Black Skeletons. All in all, his overall strength had increased instead of decreased.

Besides that, there was also...

Lynch’s gaze fell on the one-handed sword at the Black Corpse’s waist, its scabbard inlaid with various Gemstones. Then, very naturally, he unfastened the sword and weighed it in his hand.

’It feels heavy. It must be worth a lot of money.’

"I see you don’t normally use a sword, and having it hanging at your waist just gets in the way. How about this? I’ll hold on to it for you for now."

As he spoke, with a flick of his wrist, the magnificent one-handed sword vanished into the wide sleeve of his black robe.

The Black Corpse: "..."

Its Soul Fire flickered violently, but it didn’t dare to resist.

Next, Lynch’s eyes swept over the Black Corpse’s withered fingers, landing on several rings set with large Gemstones.

"And these rings of yours..." Lynch frowned. "Look at how shriveled your fingers are. What if they fly off by accident during a fight? Here, let me put them away for you."

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the Black Corpse’s iron-hard hand and deftly slid the Gemstone rings off one by one, pocketing them as well.

The whole process was smooth as flowing water, as if he had practiced it countless times.

The Black Corpse’s Soul Fire flickered a few more times. "..."

Finally, Lynch looked toward the entrance of the tomb, a smile spreading across his face.

He patted the Black Corpse on the shoulder. "Old Blackie, we’re right at your doorstep. You’ve gotta at least invite the boys in for a visit, let us have a look around, right?"

"ROAR~"

The Black Corpse let out a low growl, then obediently led the way.

The three young women watched, dumbfounded.

’When we’re with Senior, what’s with this embarrassing, blush-inducing sense of secondhand shame?’

...