Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

542  Bad Dream

"What?!" Stratford lowered his head, gazing at the rotten hand that had tightly clasped his ankle.

With a simple swing of his leg, the hand was destroyed.

But more hands popped up one after another.

"W-What is happeneing?!" The werewolf stated in panic.

The ground split open with a sickening crack, and from the gaping fissures, decayed hands clawed their way to the surface.

One by one, a horde of zombies emerged from the ground, their flesh rotting and riddled with maggots. Their eyes were hollow and lifeless.

The smell of death and decay filled the air. It was thick and overpowering.

"It can't be!" Stratford subconsciously retreated. He glanced at Adam, who was still standing atop the destroyed building, and blurted out, "You… you are a necromancer?!"

Adam's lips curled up into a smirk, the lotuses in his eyes shining brightly. "Guess?"

In a matter of moments, hundreds of zombies had emerged from the ground, and even more were making their way up.

Stratford sensed great danger from these undead creatures. If there were thousands of them and they attacked him all at once, he would stand no chance.

Instantly, he decided to retreat.

He let out a guttural growl as he turned around to leave. But the zombies had already surrounded him.

The undead creatures surged forward with unnatural speed and grabbed onto the werewolf's feet, refusing to let him go.

Stratford cast a spell and froze the nearby zombies into ice sculptures, but by that time even more zombies had surfaced from the ground.

Fear began to creep inside the werewolf's heart. The number of these undead creatures was simply too many for him to deal with.

They grabbed him from all directions, their bony fingers digging into his white fur, pulling him down with the sheer weight of their numbers.

Stratford thrashed about in fury, swinging his claws violently, tearing through the zombies with unmatched ferocity.

But it was all futile.

For every zombie he killed, two more took its place, rising from the ground like a tidal wave of darkness, death, and decay.

The ground beneath him seemed to come alive with the dead as more and more zombies surfaced. In a matter of minutes, the entire town was filled with zombies.

They latched onto his limbs, their cold grips tightening with each passing second. Stratford's muscles strained as he struggled to break free.

But the horde was endless!

It was an unstoppable force!

Stratford felt his strength beginning to wane. The zombies were tireless in their assault. They dragged him to his knees and pinned him to the ground.

Amidst the sea of zombies, a little undead girl climbed his furry body and crouched on his chest. She looked at the werewolf with tearful eyes and whispered, "Ancestor…"

Stratford's eyes widened in disbelief. "What… What did you just call me?!"

The little zombie continued, "Ancestor, why did you do it?"

"W-Who are you?!" The werewolf's crimson eyes rippled with emotions.

"Why did you cage us in this town?" Said the girl.

"We could have lived happy and fulfilled lives. We could have traveled the world. But you kept us here against our wills. You manipulated us for your selfish reasons."

"Why did you do it, Ancestor?"

Stratford looked at the little girl, and then at all the zombies that had surrounded him. "All of you… you are the residents of this town? You are… my descendants?!"

The zombies all began talking in loud voices, their tone choked with emotions.

"Why did you do it?"

"You used all of us!"

"You lied to us!"

"We were nothing but pawns!"

"We respected you!"

"We loved you!"

"But you betrayed us!"

A torrent of emotions washed over Stratford, thinking about the generations of descendants that he had fostered all so he could recover his strength.

But the next moment, his crimson eyes flashed with cruelty.

"SO WHAT?!" He roared.

"You insects mean nothing to me! It is your glory and honor to lay down your lives for me! You hear me?! You mean nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

The next moment, all the zombies disappeared.

So did the town.

So did the blood moons.

Stratford found himself standing alone in the middle of the forest. Behind him was the foot of the Greyscale Mountains, and in front of him was a village. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"This place…" His heart skipped a beat when he realized where he was.

It was the place where he had first met Leah all those centuries ago!

"Ha... Hahaha!" He started laughing in a deranged manner. "What… What is happening? None of this is real! That's right! This is an illusion!"

Suddenly, a sweet and melodious voice drifted into his ears.

"Stratford, is that you?"

This voice! Thought the man in absolute shock.

He turned around and looked in the direction the voice came from.

And there she was!

Leah was wearing a white sundress, holding a basket filled with wildflowers. Her skin was soft and smooth, her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, and her emerald eyes radiated boundless joy.

She dropped the basket and ran toward him. She put her arms around his neck and lovingly embraced him.

"Why do you look so puzzled? Are you okay?" She asked in concern.

Tears started to fall from Straford's blue eyes. He raised his trembling hand and caressed his lover's cheek. "Leah, you… you're alright!"

"Hmm?" Leah tilted her head cutely. "Of course, I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be? Did you perhaps have a bad dream?"

"A bad dream?" Stratford fell into a daze. Soon, he smiled brightly. "Hahaha! So it was all a dream! Hahaha! You're alright! Thank goodness!"

Leah put her palm on his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

"Hahaha! This is the best I've felt in years!" He said as he lifted his lover from the waist and swung her around joyfully.

…

Adam fell to his knees, coughing mouthfuls of blood. His eyes continued to bleed incessantly and a terrible headache assaulted his brain.

Yavia hastily flew from the distance and began healing him. "Adam, that's enough! If you overexert yourself, you'll die! Let us escape now!"

"Escape? Heh!" Adam scoffed.

He raised his head and looked at Stratford standing in an absolute daze. Through his blurry and bloody vision, Adam confirmed that he had successfully put the werewolf inside an illusion!

"Why should I escape? This is the perfect time to kill him!" He said as he slowly got to his feet.

"But your injuries—" Yavia screamed in panic.

However, the youth interrupted her. "Trust me, I know my body best. Just stop the blood loss."

Yavia deeply looked at the youth before helplessly nodding. About a minute later, she had finally managed to stop his blood loss, completely exhausting herself.

"Go back to the Spirit World," said Adam with a gentle smile.

"I refuse!" Yavia reprimanded him. "I will stay here until you're done!"

Adam looked at her and nodded. "Alright, get as far away as possible from this town. Or you won't be able to take what's coming next."

The tiny wood spirit complied and hurriedly flew away. After making sure that she had made enough distance, Adam exhaled a deep sigh.

"I couldn't have executed this technique until I reached Rank 4 and learned how to fly. But teleportation makes it possible!"

The next moment, he disappeared and then reappeared fifty meters in the air. He continued to teleport toward the sky, reaching as high as he could while still maintaining the illusion Stratford was in.

An enormous amount of mana enveloped his body, augmenting it in preparation for the eventual fall.

The mana of the five fundamental elements—earth, wind, fire, water, and wood—fused together and gathered around his right arm.

Just as he reached the height of about half a mile, immense excitement and anticipation coursed through his veins and his lips curled up into a wide grin.

And thus began his descent.

Hand of Doom: Divine Meteor!!!