Victor leaned back in his chair as dim light pierced through the curtain and cast long shadows across the office walls. Before him, a holographic screen flickered to life, displaying the battlefield in intricate detail. Lizbeth perched casually on his shoulder, with her wings faintly glowing, illuminating just enough for the holographic screen’s contrast not to hurt his eyes.

  The screen displayed the western perimeter, where Thunder’s traps had been meticulously laid. The advancing undead horde had just reached the killing field, their grotesque forms moving like an unrelenting tide.

  Victor crossed his arms as he focused on the screen. “Let’s see if Thunder’s little masterpiece performs as he proclaimed.”

  Lizbeth tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smirk. “With all the fuss he made about those strings, I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.”

  As they spoke, the first wave of undead approached the trap-laden area. The moment they stepped onto the field, the silk threads sprang to life. Invisible to the horde until it was too late, the razor-sharp strings sliced through flesh and bone with terrifying efficiency. Skeletal warriors crumbled to pieces, and decayed corpses were severed in half, their remains toppling into the soil.

  “Not bad,” Victor remarked, leaning forward slightly. He gestured, and the screen zoomed in, revealing the finer details of the chaos. Interestingly, Thunder had used runes in order to activate the traps remotely, snapping threads into motion and taking down clusters of enemies at once. This ensured that nothing would go wrong.

  “Hundreds gone in mere moments,” Lizbeth chimed in, amused. “The players really do have a knack for overkill.”

  Victor allowed himself a small smile. In comparison, even an Elemental Adept Magus would have to exert considerable infused mana to cast a spell strong enough to wipe out that many undead. The players’ ingenuity had never disappointed him, and Thunder’s traps were only one example.

  The screen shifted as more of the horde advanced, the traps continuing their deadly work. Yet, despite the devastation, the undead kept coming. In the distance, a massive, armored figure could be seen—a towering knight clad in rusted, blackened plate armor with glowing eyes that were fixed on the academy.

  A Death Knight?!

  Victor’s gaze hardened. That must be the general leading this undead army; the players had mentioned it earlier. It was essentially immune to the traps so far. On top of that, it was drawing the remaining undead behind it so that they could pass safely. How clever.

  Victor steepled his fingers. “Let’s hope the players are ready to face them. If not… I will have to intervene.”

  Lizbeth glanced at him, her eyes glinting. “Wouldn’t that be too early?”

  “Maybe,” Victor said grimly. “But the academy absolutely cannot fall. Otherwise, the consequences would be dire…”

  Acting preemptively had its advantages—seizing the initiative could tip the scales in their favor. Yet, timing was everything. Acting too soon could squander opportunities, but waiting too long could spell disaster. He had to find just the right moment.

  The general of the undead army was a Death Knight, which had power equivalent to that of a peak Elemental Adept Magus. While Victor was confident in his ability to face such an opponent, he felt that the Death Knight wasn’t the one who orchestrated this invasion. It was highly likely that something more powerful was pulling the strings from the shadows.

  If my assumption is correct, then we’re dealing with a force on par with a Nexus Temporal Magus. No… perhaps even a Primordial Sigil Magus! Beads of sweat rolled down Victor’s temple. If the latter were true, the Death Knight must be a special variant of its kind.

  Then he considered the fact that foreign invaders should be under the world’s suppression. No matter how powerful the true orchestrator was, they could only unleash a fraction of their full strength.

  Dismissing further speculation, he observed as the undead horde, which had been temporarily hindered by Thunder’s traps, began to regroup and push forward. As expected of such creatures, even those cleaved in half or shattered into pieces continued clawing their way toward their objective, relentless and unyielding. What concerned him more, however, was their steady advance toward the next line of defense, where Aphrodite’s team had laid their own deadly surprises.

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  He noticed Aphrodite standing atop a makeshift treehouse nestled within the canopy of the largest tree. Unlike Thunder’s subtle silk snares, he favored explosives and incendiary devices hidden in strategic clusters. The moment the horde breached the designated kill zone, a series of detonations ripped through their ranks. Fire and debris erupted in violent bursts, consuming dozens of the undead with each blast.

  However, even though hundreds were decimated by the explosions, the undead pressed on, seemingly endless in number. These undead truly did not fear anything—even more so than the players. Well, they were mindless creatures, after all.

  Suddenly, Victor’s eyes widened as he observed the battlefield. Amidst the carnage, a series of massive blasts erupted. Locating the source, Victor found crude yet functional magic cannons mounted on hastily constructed platforms, unleashing concentrated beams of magical energy that tore through the advancing undead.

  “Magic cannons?” Victor muttered, leaning closer to the holographic display. “When did they learn to construct something like this?”

  Lizbeth, having anticipated his surprise, smirked knowingly. “Looks like you failed to notice it. Remember the workshop Aphrodite created for making alchemical weapons? He and his team have been busy innovating. When they returned from the expedition, they immediately started replicating magic cannons.”

  “Is that so?” Victor held his chin in interest. All the reports and progress of the academy were funneled through Lizbeth, so he rarely needed to check on such matters unless they were urgent. That explained why this development was news to him.

  The screen zoomed in on Aphrodite as he directed the players operating the cannons. Despite their crude designs, the players managed them with remarkable efficiency, firing precise shots that obliterated clusters of undead.

  “Those cannons… They’re rudimentary, but the output is impressive. Did they reverse-engineer the broken ones I brought back? Or did they create these from scratch?” He recalled transporting several alchemical devices and machines from the citadel during the dirigible’s construction. These players must have tinkered with them to develop this technology.

  “Does it matter which one it is? The real question is, are you aware of their potential?” she asked.

  Victor ignored her as he thought over the implications. The prospect of player-made weaponry like this was significant. If they could independently develop siege-level tools, it meant they had the potential to create even more advanced innovations—something that could change the tide of these uncertain battles.

  “While I have to admit that these cannons have potential, they won’t hold the line forever.” His gaze remained fixed on the advancing horde—more specifically, on its general.

  Lizbeth tilted her head. “You mean the Death Knight?”

  Victor nodded. “Their firepower is too weak to deal serious damage to it. It can deflect or evade the shots with ease. Furthermore, there are like, what, twenty cannons at most? That’s too few compared to the enemy’s size.” He shook his head. “But it seems the players might be more resourceful than I’ve given them credit for.”

  Lizbeth grinned, hovering between his face and the holographic screen. “Oh my, starting to think they might not need you after all?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Victor replied dryly, flicking her head lightly. “I’ll step in when the time is right. For now, let’s see how well they hold back the undead army.”

  He wasn’t going to intervene so easily. After all, he was the NPC boss protecting the academy, and he had to stay true to his role… for now.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Sean and his party were still hastily retreating toward the defensive lines. The undead horde was close behind them, and they could hear thunderous booms as they triggered the explosive traps and magic cannons. Even from this distance, the searing heat from the incendiary weapons made the air feel stifling, as if the temperature had risen by a few degrees.

  Through the voice chat channel, reports came in live, keeping the retreating group informed of the unfolding chaos. Sean decided it was time for an update.

  “Thunder, report!” Sean barked in a high voice.

  “Traps are working quite well,” Thunder replied. “We’ve thinned the herd, but there’s still a lot of them coming. Hopefully, there’s good news from other groups.”

  “Good to hear.” Sean then switched to the next channel. “Aphrodite, report!”

  A hearty laugh boomed through the channel before Aphrodite’s voice came through, tinged with exhilaration. “It’s like a tower defense game on my side. Like playing Arknight on steroids! Hundreds—maybe thousands—of those undead bastards have fallen to my new toys! Although some— ahem, there have been some… let’s call them ‘unfortunate accidents.’ Nothing to be concerned about, though,” he reported.

  Sean raised a skeptical brow, though no one could see it. “Define these ‘accidents,’” he asked with suspicion.

  “Well,” Aphrodite began, shifting to a sheepish tone, “the incendiary weapons, essentially a kind of magic flamethrower, aren’t entirely stable yet. The pressure in the tanks is inconsistent, and, uh, let’s just say a few unlucky players ended up… being roasted alive.”

  Oof! That’s hardly an accident—more like involuntary manslaughter! Sean winced, sharing a collective cringe with his teammates as a wave of silence passed over the voice channel.

  “Relax!” Aphrodite added quickly, “I mean, the sacrifices were minimal compared to the overall effectiveness! Think of it as a necessary experiment!”

  “Necessary experiment, my ass!” exclaimed Chicken before Sean silenced his line so he wouldn’t disturb the communication.

  “Anyway, we’ll talk about this later,” Sean said, rubbing his temples as they continued their retreat. “Just keep the undead from breaching the line as long as possible, Aphrodite.”

  “No worries! You’re talking to the best in the field here. Remember the Arachnid Invasion event?” Aphrodite replied confidently. “Whoops, I forgot you hadn’t joined the game back then, so you wouldn’t know.”

  Sean sighed. “I hope you can prove your claim.”