Goiter, who had been patiently watching the struggle below, chuckled with disdain when he saw the actions of the various Adepts. As much as he would love to keep them here, he alone did not have the composite strength to battle all those faction leaders, who definitely possessed trump cards of their own.

His empty eye sockets turned to those who had been left behind, and his Soul Fire burned with pity and sympathy. Those unlucky souls had yet to grasp their masters' betrayals.

They had been brought out here by their leaders to fight a battle that would benefit the faction as a whole, yet very little to them themselves.

The greed of their leaders for wanting those rewards of the mysterious Master stage mission issuer had got them out here.

Now, the ones who had initiated everything were gone. By the time they returned home, they could make up many excuses for what had actually happened and bury the truth. With their faction's power and foundation, they could quickly fill the void of subordinates by recruiting fresh blood or groom them if necessary.

Yet these fellows who were currently giving their all right now would be forgotten very quickly. The knowledge that their soon to be hired replacement might experience a similar fate in the future at the hands of their factions, forming an eternal but vicious cycle, would do little to appease the doomed men.

Goiter saw no need to continue watching the spectacle and was about to head to the mausoleum, when he suddenly shivered. He turned and felt an aura that he knew all too well, one that belonged to the God-Emperor himself!

The God-Emperor had descended into Lord Marasmus' body? What for? Was there someone else within the necropolis right now?

Goiter's question could not yet be answered for he did not dare to enter the necropolis until the God-Emperor left.

What shocked the Protector was that the activity below the necropolis intensified by a hundred times at the least.

The greenish lake quickly filled up with liquid and even began to overflow a bit, spawning various apparitions and spirits that howled with delight. These weren't true undead, merely pseudo-undead born by the sheer purity and concentration of Negative Energy.

Even though they were merely energy lifeforms with negative traits, they had far better foundations than normal undead. Should a proper summoner be able to raise them, they would grow to the Adept stage within months!

It seemed that the forces of the living had noticed this too. They quickly turned around to consult with their leaders on what to do next, but the truth that hit them was debilitating, to say the least.

None of the fellows on the field here were children. They instantly understood what had happened, and the newly forged willpower to battle was turned into abject despair that crushed all fighters.

The Bone Dragon's eyes flashed when it saw this and it roared as it lunged down and capitalized on this period of weakness to cast its Master stage spell, Cyclone!

Once the meat grinder of the spell formed, it quickly captured all remaining fighters within its area of effect, turning even the sturdiest of them into indiscriminate fleshy waste that gathered in its center.

When it came to an end, the flesh fell down in a bloody heap, along with bits of bone and innards. It was gruesome and horrifying, but such was the fate of many who had assaulted this necropolis before, and it would continue to be the fate of ignorant challengers for eons to come!

Goiter nodded his head with satisfaction at the Bone Dragon's quick work and sent it back into the greenish lake to recover its energy and solidify its resurrected existence.

Once more, he lamented the escape of the hundred or so faction leaders, but in the next few moments, Goiter's Soul Fire trembled with shock. He saw many black dots in the sky rapidly approaching the necropolis.

Goiter's bony jaw dropped comically when he saw the screeching and screaming leaders of some of the various factions plummet towards the necropolis, more specifically into the greenish lake.

Plop! Plop! Plop!

With a very dubious and ambiguous sound, the various bodies of the faction leaders plunged into the depths of the greenish lake. Outsiders may not know what that meant, but Goiter surely did.

Well, it seemed as if the Adept band of the Plains of Death would be getting some fresh blood! Then again, it was necessary since they had lost their entire force to these very fellows.

Even the fleshly remains and the scattered bones gathered together and plunged into the greenish lake, causing it only to bubble a little with how hyperactive and infused with energy it was.

Goiter idly did a count and was impressed. Previously, they had about 132 Adept undead stationed here, but with the infusion of these fresh fellows, they would have about 230 new forces at the least.

The 200 would be the original Adepts who would soon draw their last breath in the lake and the other 30 would be combined from the corpses of the 300 Journeymen.

Goiter was overjoyed!

Why they hadn't lost anything, but rather gained tremendously!

By raising them when their deaths had occurred but a mere moment ago, it would practically guarantee to have them retain their memories and skills from when they were alive and become higher rank undead!

Goiter laughed happily. He felt that if he were Lord Marasmus or the God-Emperor, he might even reward that Master-stage expert who had initiated this mission heavily for his 'contributions' instead of seeking revenge.

Of course, that was merely Goiter's own personal thoughts, not something he would dare to advise the God-Emperor on as a lowly Necrolich.

Goiter was about to enter the building when he hastily dodged to the side. Right where he had been a second ago, two blurry forms got ejected at a speed beyond anything Goiter could follow.

He failed to recognize those who were within those bubbles, but his train of thought was quickly interrupted by a weak voice that called out to him within the mausoleum.

As such, Goiter quickly forgot about this issue as he rushed to the side of his Master.