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CHAPTER 236- THE IMPOSSIBLE

  Less than an hour had passed, yet the Throne Room had continued to fill with bodies as blood flowed into a crimson pool.

  Alaster continued to summon thousands of Undead in addition to the dozens of [Death Bombs] he hurled into the Demon ranks.

  However, he limited himself. He only summoned the System Undead, none that he had created himself through Weaving. Not only did he still feel weak from the transformation and the battle, an astonishing feat considering he could regenerate entire limbs in the time it took him to cook himself a steak. But he also did not quite grasp the Demon Forces.

  He knew for a fact that they had come prepared to conquer the world, wiping out the Human Race all together. He also knew that they were prepared to do that while also fighting against the Human Gods.

  Alaster knew that no matter how many he killed here, this would be a war that would last a long time, and he remembered his lessons from Azemar.

  First rule of War, deception.

  Alaster refused to reveal his hand of cards when his opponent had only played a single card.

  And so the battle continued.

  More screams, more blood, more death.

  Until finally, the Demons revealed another one of their cards.

  An Argalon, slightly shorter than the others and wearing thick heavy robes of green and brown, stepped through the portal, flanked by eight larger Argalon, all equipped with thick shields.

  Alaster could have blasted this robed Argalon with a few dozen [Death Bombs], but decided to wait. From the way the other Demons were acting around it, while this Robed one was special, it was clearly not some sort of ultimate weapon.

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  If he killed this one without figuring out what it could do, he would remain blind to their capabilities.

  And quite frankly, Alaster did not care about the Royal Guards or the rest.

  The Robed Argalon raised his gnarled wooden staff high above his head, and began to chant. It had been so long since Alaster last saw someone use Magic through the use of Chanting that he was honestly confused for a moment.

  Chanting was taught to children as a way to focus their Magic towards their desired effect. Alaster had never seen someone need to Chant for their spell who was not brand new to their Magic.

  Had he overestimated the capabilities of the Argalon?

  After a full minute of wordless Chanting that Alaster could not hear over the dull of the battle, the Robed Argalon slammed its staff down hard enough to imbed it into the stone.

  The crack of the impact and stone shattering was heard over the battle and screams. As it made contact, a single, colorless pulse shot out from the head of the staff, flying out in all directions.

  The pulse slammed into and through everyone and everything, including Alaster.

  As it passed through him, Alaster felt his Magic short circuit. He felt nauseated as his body lost something it had never felt without. The Undead faded in and out of reality.

  It only lasted a moment, but Alaster was not the only one who felt the effects. The entire Inner Castle felt it.

  But no one could believe it.

  No one had thought it was even possible.

  Millenia ago, during the first war between Humanity and the Argalon Tribes, Humanity had only managed to survive due to vast numbers. Hundreds of thousands of men and women, throwing themselves at a single Argalon Tribesman, just in the faint hope that they would manage to scratch their foe before they were obliterated. Hoping that enough scratches would turn into exhaustion and blood loss.

  It was an inconceivable tactic. One that should have never been thought of. But Humanity was desperate. They used whatever they could to achieve victory, at whatever cost.

  One such tool they used, was the System. But in its infancy, the System was still much too weak. But it gave Humanity just enough of a boost that instead of hundreds of thousands of lives being spent to kill a single Argalon, the same could be achieved with only a single hundred thousand.

  It was that single boost that allowed Humanity to gradually grow stronger. From a hundred thousand, to tens of thousands, to thousands, to hundreds. Over the generations, Humanity grew strong enough to slowly take territory from the Argalon, eventually casting them from the world entirely.

  A single tool was responsible.

  The System.

  And the Argalon had just figured out a way to disable it.

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