The Invitation to the Master of the Dead
"How many years of study would that require...?"
Victor ignored every stare.
His chant reached its final verse.
The mana surrounding him suddenly condensed.
The earth beneath his feet began vibrating violently.
Without pausing his assault...
Victor suddenly reversed his grip on the Death Scythe.
Its blade plunged into the ground.
SHRRAAAK!
Instead of attacking the undead directly...
He began dragging the blade across the battlefield.
Deep grooves appeared in the earth wherever the weapon passed.
One line.
Another.
Then another.
The defenders watched in confusion.
"...What's he doing?"
Max's eyes narrowed.
"A magic formation..."
Victor's movements accelerated.
Within moments, countless intersecting lines had spread beneath the feet of the surrounding undead.
A massive magic circle slowly took shape.
Ancient runes ignited one after another.
The air grew heavier.
Mana surged wildly.
