Melina hadn't expected things to develop so quickly, and Monica hadn't expected to lose so fast.
Although she had devoted all her efforts to studying charm magic, it wasn't as if she lacked combat capability entirely; the demons she had devoured over the years hadn't been eaten in vain.
Her three-meter-tall frame granted her tremendous strength, and she swung a blade with deadly prowess. Muscular cambions like Cambien had been tossed around by Monica like mere toys.
Yet facing this undead clad in heavy armor who charged faster than flight, Monica had lasted a mere two seconds.
The flaming longsword struck from an unfathomable angle. Melina's arms seemed completely devoid of joints, moving with the supple fluidity of a whip.
In a few rapid clangs and slashes, the blade in Monica's hand and the tail behind her were sliced to ribbons, and then her belly was cut wide open.
It was only thanks to her towering height that the blow hadn't cleaved off her head instead.
"Wait! Don't kill me, I'm still useful!"
Monica clutched her abdomen, desperately trying to heal the wound. She could barely hold on right now; another strike would finish her.
Melina rested the longsword against her neck and sneered, "Every devil says that."
"It's true! You want to find Archduke Zariel, but my territory isn't the only one along the way. I can cut your travel time in half!"
Melina couldn't tell whether Monica was telling the truth or not, so she simply tossed her a ring of lie detection.
Monica was far too large to wear it on her fingers, so she could only pinch the ring between them and repeat her answer.
Melina was surprised to find that this plus-sized erinyes was actually speaking the truth.
Melina frowned. "Do you devils only make a habit of telling the truth when you know you're about to die?"
Monica gave a bitter smile. "This is Hell. If you speak the truth right from the start, you die."
Melina didn't know how to refute that. She didn't understand such complicated matters—she was just an undead baby barely over a year old.
However, since this erinyes truly was useful, Melina spared her life for the moment. Sussur branches wrapped around Monica's body, continuously sealing her magic, and then began a fresh round of purging.
Originally, once Monica surrendered, Melina could have relied on her charm abilities to subdue the devils inside the fortress. But Melina dared not casually unleash Monica's powers. Those devils who broke free of the charm either fled or were slain by Melina.
After the battle concluded, she had lost a few more subordinates.
Of the original thirteen cambions, only five were left alive; the rest had been turned into undead.
Nevertheless, the forces under Melina's command had grown stronger. The devils of the fortress had left behind over a thousand corpses, all of which were turned into cannon fodder for Melina.
Looking at the expanding undead army under her command, Melina felt a bit troubled.
She wasn't skilled at leading troops.
If they were all high-ranking Death Knights, it would be fine—Melina had no problem leading a cavalry charge. But most were low-level cannon fodder like skeletons and zombies; Melina's only tactic was to have them swarm forward in a chaotic frenzy of biting and tearing.
Yet no true necromancer would discard their undead creations so carelessly. After all, not every necromancer was like her father, who could forge souls with his bare hands.
Furthermore, dragging along these slow-moving undead would severely drag down her pace. She couldn't very well trudge along on foot beside these skeletons and zombies.
Thus, Melina said to the heavily wounded Cambien, "You look pretty smart. Do you want to follow me?"
Not a single bone in Cambien's body was intact, yet upon hearing Melina's words, he managed to prop himself up and shouted, "I do! Please, Master, let me become your servant! I will be devoted and loyal—"
Before he could finish, Cambien saw Melina draw her longsword and raise it high.
"Wait! Master, what are you doing?"
Melina said, "Transforming you into a Death Knight. Don't worry, you won't lose your mind like those zombies, and... you should become a bit stronger."
Any high-ranking undead knew how to transform a living creature into an undead; all it took was infusing dark magic into the creature's body. Simple as it sounded, the results varied wildly in the hands of different necromancers.
The Rose of Decay was among the preeminent masters in this field; sparing no expense in transforming undead, she could create a Death Knight like Melina, who was born a legend. Anbaixiu had not delved as deeply into this area, but he was peerless when it came to soul creation; given enough time and resources, he too could potentially create a wraith of legendary rank.
Yet both Anbaixiu and the Rose of Decay were members of the Elegy Poetry Society, rare geniuses one in ten thousand even among the undead. An ordinary necromancer who could produce a high-ranking undead would already qualify as a "master."
Melina wasn't particularly skilled at transforming undead, but she possessed an immense reservoir of dark magic and a mountain of priceless auxiliary treasures. Preserving Cambien's intellect through the transformation wouldn't be difficult. As for his future potential... Melina wasn't interested in his martial prowess anyway; keeping his head straight was all she needed.
Looking at the raised flaming longsword, Cambien hastily held up his hands to stop her. "Wait, Master! I'm quite satisfied with being a cambion. Is transforming into an undead really necessary?"
Melina's sword paused for a moment. Looking into the cambion's eyes, she said, "A devil can never earn my trust. But in light of your valiant efforts in the fight just now, I will grant you a choice. I can give you some soul coins and set you free. Or, I can personally transform you into a Death Knight to become my loyal servant."
Cambien knew he had arrived at a crossroad in life.
Before him lay the most crucial dilemma: give up his identity as a cambion to join the ranks of the undead, or take a windfall and walk away? Cambien wasn't worried that Melina would go back on her word; after observing her over this period, he knew this undead young lady certainly disdained lying to him, nor was she any good at it.
Yet Cambien didn't want to decide just yet. He still didn't know how far this undead lady could go... Cambien glanced around the slaughterhouse of a battlefield. Well, all right, she had already done something utterly mad.
Just moments ago, Melina had practically fought alone while the other devils, under Monica's charm, besieged her.
Yet this undead lady had summoned a great blue tree and commenced a savage harvest, displaying terrifying combat power. Below the deities, there was likely no one left who could match her.
"What, still hesitating? Then you may leave."
Melina casually tossed down several soul coins. Devils survived on these things; absorbing them should restore Cambien's wounds, and then he could scurry off.
Melina felt a bit disappointed. How was it that her father could so easily make swarms of people obey his every word? From the Elven Queen and various goddesses at the top, down to mad kuo-toa and greedy goblins at the bottom—regardless of race or status, after hearing her father talk for just a few moments, they would obediently surrender everything they had.
Yet she couldn't even win over a measly cambion.
Melina felt thoroughly frustrated. She didn't want to look at this devil any longer, lest she stab him to death on impulse!
Just as Melina turned to walk away, however, Cambien spoke up again: "Great Master, I wasn't refusing your offer! But I promised to guide you to the Blood River battlefield and take the secret path to the Blood River Fortress. If I turn into an undead now, I'm afraid the connections I built before will be useless."
Melina turned back in surprise, staring at Cambien. "Are you serious?"
"Of course." Cambien held up the ring on his hand, which remained unlit.
"I swear upon my soul! I've had enough of wandering the wasteland like a stray. No matter how hard I tried, whenever I ran into a powerful devil like this erinyes, I was trampled underfoot like trash. I refuse to accept that! I won't spend my entire life as a pathetic drifter. That's why I seek your protection, Master, and I will use all my strength to clear the obstacles before you!"
Melina's eyes lit up, and she said smugly, "Good. Then I'll give you a chance."
Cambien pressed the soul coins into his chest. Surging flames erupted from his wounds as he ravenously absorbed the soul energy to mend his injuries. Moments later, Cambien was back on his feet, looking slightly stronger than before.
Seeing this, Melina remarked with some surprise, "Devils are quite convenient, almost like undead."
Just as Cambien was about to offer some flattery, the erinyes Monica mocked, "What a waste! Injuries like his don't require nearly so many soul coins. Besides, this cambion only has petty cunning; his talent is abysmal, and most of that soul energy was completely squandered. If Master would bestow those soul coins upon me, I could generate far more value for you."
Cambien narrowed his eyes at Monica. This oversized erinyes was already vying for credit—truly a devil, switching allegiances so swiftly.
Still, to Cambien, this was actually good news, as it indicated Monica had truly submitted. At least until Melina was defeated by an even stronger devil, Monica wouldn't dare betray her.
Cambien didn't waste time bickering with Monica. Instead, he addressed Melina: "Master, since this erinyes lord is willing to help, perhaps our plan can change. An erinyes's abilities are remarkably useful; caught off guard, even devils stronger than her can be charmed.
"While neighboring devil lords craft magical gear specifically to guard against an erinyes's charms, Master's power seems capable of neutralizing such magical equipment, correct?"
Before Melina could grasp what Cambien meant, Monica shrieked at the top of her lungs, "You wretched lackey, do you have any idea what you're doing? Are you insane?! Do you want to start a war?!"
Cambien sneered, "Look around you—the war began long ago. The devils who fled will spread word of your defeat, and the neighboring lords will pounce immediately to tear into your carcass."
Monica didn't dispute it, for that was already reality.
No devil would pass up a weakened neighbor. In an hour or two, armies from the other lords would arrive.
Cambien dropped to his knees before Melina, saying fervently, "Master, you should raise your blade and conquer this wasteland, and this erinyes will be our key to swiftly subduing this region!"
Melina felt a rush of exhilaration.
She was an undead born for war. Melina's very creation was to assist her mother in destroying that colossal empire. She was meant to wield her blade on battlefields against the Holy Light, but fate had ultimately denied her enough time to mature. As a result, in the final decisive battle, Melina, like other legends, had been cast across time and space by the might of the time dragon.
That feeling of powerlessness had weighed on Melina ever since.
Even when her mother later told her that this had been part of the plan all along—that Melina had depleted a massive amount of the time dragon's power, laying the foundation for their eventual victory—
Melina still couldn't truly accept such an outcome deep down.
If she was born for war, how could she exist merely as an expendable pawn?
Melina declared excitedly, "Good! Then let us gather our forces and sweep away every obstacle on the road to the Blood Sea!"
Chapter 527