Published at 5th of May 2026 7:32 am

Chapter 1714 From the Cult

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The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, dyeing the sky in shades of dark orange.

Miles north of Amberfall lay a dense forest known as the Beryl Woods. The forest had stood long before the city was founded. Its name came from the faint green glow that could sometimes be seen beneath its canopy, especially at night.

No human settlements took root at the edge of these woods. Those who entered often spoke of losing their sense of direction, as if the forest itself shifted around them. These woods were the home of orcs. It was one of the many major orc settlements in the region.

They did not build cities or raise great walls. Instead, they lived deep within the forest, in scattered clans. Their villages were hidden beneath thick canopies or carved into the roots of ancient trees.

Magus Holden was the fourth Mana Core Magus dispatched by the Cult of Bones. His task was to assemble the undead horde at the edge of Beryl Woods and attack Amberfall from the north.

When he traveled here, along with Prince Liam's fleet, he believed sending so many powerful Magi to conquer the city was overkill.

Twenty thousand soldiers led by four Mana Core Magi to invade a city with only one Mana Core Magus and less than ten thousand soldiers was indeed excessive.

Or so he thought...

He had separated from the main host a day earlier. And since the battle began, he hadn't heard from his fellow cultists - Tedric, Diggory, and Dorset. That alone made him very vigilant. No communication either meant they were still engaged with the enemy, or they were dead.

And when he heard the thunderous explosion just minutes ago, he knew things had gotten grim and dark. Doubt crept into his heart, and now he wondered if the number of Magi the Cult had sent to conquer the city would even be enough.

Guarded by two of his undead knights, he crouched on the ground and continued to summon undead creatures. He was responsible for leading not just his own undead horde, but also those of the other three Mana Core Magi that had come with him.

So for the past few hours, he had been silently summoning these monsters. Thousands of undead creatures had gathered around him already, standing lifelessly as they waited for his command.

A few ore scouts had spotted his horde, but they all died long before they could send word back to their chiefs. The orc population within Beryl Woods was immense, and Holden didn't wish to fight them if he could. That would draw unwanted attention.

That was why he chose a secluded spot at the edge of these woods to summon the undead army.

However, their presence did not go unnoticed.

The undead knights suddenly perked up and looked in a particular direction. Noticing this strange reaction, Holden frowned. He quickly stopped what he was doing and rose to his feet. He followed his knights' gaze, and soon, his frown intensified.

In the near distance, he noticed the undead creatures slowly parting and making way. They stepped aside in silence, forming a clear path through the ranks. From within the opening, a group of orcs, radiating the strength of a Mana Vortex Magus, emerged.

"What the... fuck?" Holden was stunned.

He couldn't understand why a horde of undead monsters would make way for a bunch of savage orcs. By all reasoning, they should have pounced on anyone who carried the breath of life.

But it was only when he noticed a shorter figure walking ahead of the group of orcs that realization struck him. This figure wore a dark cloak, and his elderly visage was pale. He was also missing an arm.

In that moment, Holden immediately realized that his one-armed Magus was a Necromancer!

He willed his undead knights to prepare to strike as the cloaked figure approached him.

"Identify yourself, Magus!" he spat with cold hostility.

In that moment, many questions swirled in his mind. Who was this Necromancer? What was he doing here? And more importantly, why were the

orcs following him?

The one-armed Necromancer stopped a few meters away from Holden. He intently studied the two undead knights, and then the man who'd summoned them.

At last, he spoke, his words catching Holden by great surprise.

"The Cult?" he asked in a low voice.

Holden's pupils constricted. He remained silent for a few moments, then asked in a cold voice, "Who are you?"

The newcomer let out a sigh. A sigh of... relief.

He reached for his inner robes and retrieved an item. Holden wasn't alarmed by his actions. Why would he? He and his undead army had completely surrounded this one-armed man and his orcs. What could the man possibly do? The newcomer retrieved a disk that seemed to be made of pale white bone. Seeing the familiar item, Holden's eyes slowly widened. The man threw the disk at him, which he easily caught.

Holden studied the item for a few moments, unable to quite believe his eyes. He infused mana into it and realized that this was not a fake. It was the real deal! At last, he turned to the man and blurted out in surprise, "You're from the Cult! What is your name?"

"Yes," the man chuckled coldly. "I am indeed from the Cult."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "I was sent here by Master many years ago. It had been my mission to destroy Ignisra from within, sow discord among House Fireborne, and orchestrate a usurpation. But as you can see..." His hand reached out to his shoulder, the one where his arm was gone.

"I failed."

There were several Mana Core Magi in the Cult, and naturally, Holden didn't

know all of them. But the ivory disk in his hand was legit. He could also sense a faint mana thread connecting the man to the disk. So he knew the man before him wasn't lying.

"I couldn't return to the Cult after my failure," the man continued.

"So I bided my time. I hid in the Beryl Woods, right under my enemy's nose. I enslaved the entire orc population in this forest, and I waited. And it would

appear... my patience has paid off."

He paused, his expression turning cold.

"That damned Fireborne king cut off my arm. I can no longer cast spells. I can

no longer summon my undead. But I have an army of ten thousand orcs at my command. And together with your undead, we will lay siege to Amberfall." The one-armed cultist's lips curled into a ruthless smile, and he finally introduced himself.

"I am Osbert of the Cult of Bones... and tonight, I shall have my revenge."

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