25: Act 8: The Bloodstained Forest_2 25: Act 8: The Bloodstained Forest_2 The only sound left in the forest was the rising and falling of labored breaths.
Gazing at these pale-faced youths, the Corpse Witch couldn’t help but emit a chuckle from its drafty jaw.
Green light flickered in its eye sockets, as if reveling in the pleasure brought by their fear.
Indeed, human fear was their greatest enemy—weak, fleeting, easily exploited by worthless emotions.
In contrast, the undead were naturally devoid of such flaws.
Each one could be the finest soldier, especially the lower undead — they didn’t even need to think, only to obey blindly.
Unlike even the most well-trained human militia, who on the battlefield acted like helpless children, such frail creatures should not have existed in this world.
It couldn’t help but be filled with a deep-seated loathing: Yes, Madara will surely triumph —
But at that moment, the Corpse Witch heard an extraneous voice: “— I’ll leave it to you.” It was the voice of a young man, calm, steady, and full of confidence.
The Corpse Witch felt a slight flicker in its Soul Fire, an ominous sign; it immediately turned around warily.
An arresting sight met its hollow vision — a shining ring.
The ring was on the index finger of the severely injured militia member.
It had never paid the guy much attention before — why bother with a half-dead human?
Pretending to be gravely injured might deceive others, but it could never deceive the undead.
These cold-blooded monsters that had crawled out of graves could see directly into a living being’s Life Fire, and the weak, dim Life Fire in Sophie could not possibly be a disguise.
He was indeed a gravely injured patient.
But the real threat came from the ring on his hand — it was a magic ring.
The green fire within the Corpse Witch’s eyes began to dim slowly; it could almost smell the gathering of a fatal aura in the air.
It recognized this scent.
One of its masters had exposed it to some counterfeits while teaching it black magic, and the aura emanating from it revealed it to be at least a magic ring of rank 20 energy level.
How could an official wizard’s item be in the hands of an ordinary person?
The Corpse Witch couldn’t help but reveal a look of both terror and greed.
“Soldiers of the Dead, bring that to me—” it raised its bone staff and screamed.
But Sophie raised his right hand and used all his might to force out this syllable — or more accurately, to expel the remaining air from his lungs.
As the young man fell back, he couldn’t stop the sweat from pouring down his forehead.
Space expanded for a moment and then suddenly contracted —
When it explosively returned to its normal state, the resulting wild air currents emitted a screech that could pierce human eardrums.
Like straight arrows, the wind shot toward the Corpse Witch and its skeleton soldiers.
Though they raised their withered arms to protect themselves, the turbulent air passed through their hollow ribs, creating vortices that knocked them sideways step by step.
There were no injuries, but the restraint effects were immediately evident.
“Frey!” Sophie shouted.
The girl responded by drawing her longsword with a clear metallic chime, her long ponytail whipping in the wind—
However, what surprised Sophie was that the inexperienced militia captain didn’t act rashly but rather immediately turned back and yelled at the others: “Markmi, Essen!
What are you waiting for?
Third squad, follow me!”
Sometimes, rallying courage is like sending a signal.
In life-and-death moments, a word, a hint, could make one unleash infinite strength.
But there has to be one condition, which is calmness.
One person’s calm could affect more people, as it was now.
Under Frey’s reminder, the young militia paused but eventually reacted — this was the best opportunity, the only chance to survive.
The sudden gust forced the skeleton soldiers and the Corpse Witch to retreat step by step, unable to spare any attention elsewhere.
This realization renewed the young men’s courage.
With the sound of countless longswords being drawn, their normally practiced tactics seemed to return to their bodies at that moment.
“Damn monsters, it’s your turn now…”
“Take down that black wizard first—!”
“That’s a Corpse Witch.”
“Little Phenix, get behind me.”
They started to fight back.
But Sophie, worried by the chaotic scene, feared that any impulsive act would ruin the situation.
He couldn’t help but calmly remind from the back: “Stay composed, everyone!
Only by staying calm can we fight—!”