Matthew burst into the room.
He quickly began changing his attire.
...
"You equipped 'Mist Robe (+1)'!
Mist Robe (Armor +0): Casting speed +10%; slightly increases mental recovery rate
...
You equipped 'Withered Wood Staff'!
Withered Wood Staff (Attack +1): Necromancy level +1
...
You equipped 'Mystic Satchel'!
Mystic Satchel: Contains 8-fold pocket space; each pocket can store up to 12 items of the same type.
...
Currently stored items: Decaying Spores / Phantom Butterflies / Several Scrolls"
...
After changing into an outfit vastly different from his usual attire, Matthew's entire demeanor transformed.
If he usually resembled a friendly young teacher, now he was getting closer to the stereotypical image of a necromancer.
"Dinner's ready!"
Peggy approached, carrying a bowl of mushroom stir-fry.
"Come back to eat later!"
Leaving these words behind, Matthew hurried into the night.
...
A dozen minutes later, Matthew's figure appeared at the edge of the oak forest.
He was accompanied only by a mage's flame used for illumination.
His expression wasn't good.
The appearance of the suspected arsonist posed a significant threat to his most important resource. He felt like a cat with its tail stepped on, suddenly enraged.
According to common sense, he should have gone to the authorities for help. However, Matthew considered that Brad was undoubtedly busy dealing with Seph's situation and might not be able to spare time for his troubles. He also wanted to personally punish this audacious arsonist.
"These forests I've nurtured so diligently... Not just anyone can come here and cause trouble!"
At the edge of the oak forest, Matthew tiptoed and peered into the distance. From there, he could indeed see a massive blaze, and fortunately, the fire had not spread to the oak forest yet, thanks to the lack of flammable materials in the vicinity.
He calmed himself and realized that the flames were erupting from a nearby farm just beyond a small hill. Matthew had met the farmer and his adorable daughter before, so he could predict the fate of the farm's occupants.
...
"They're not ordinary bandits..."
Matthew cooled his mind. The forest spirits had told him that the arsonists were numerous and emitted an evil and powerful aura, indicating they were likely adventurers. With the enemy's strength unknown, he couldn't act recklessly.
So, he observed for a while before swiftly running to the other side of the oak forest.
Soon, Matthew arrived at the location he remembered—a massive haystack. Beneath the haystack, there was a cellar-like space, not very large, but the layout resembled a college dormitory from his previous life.
"Whoosh!"
Matthew lifted the iron cover and, after a quick scan, began using his "Necromancy Summoning Spell." With magical guidance, skeletons suddenly burst out of the ground at the cellar's entrance!
One after another, they emerged, with white skeletal hands and a faint green soul fire inside their skulls.
Most of these skeletal soldiers had sturdy bones, high integrity, and were equipped with weapons and small shields, making them elite among skeletal soldiers. Matthew had carefully gathered these summons, and it had cost him a considerable effort. After all, necromancy summoning wasn't about creating something from nothing. Even the most skilled necromancers couldn't conjure a group of skeletal soldiers out of thin air.
For instance, summoning these skeletal soldiers required a specific number of bones. If the quantity was insufficient, even a successful summon would result in incomplete and fragile skeletons.
Of course, there was a way to bypass material requirements for summoning, which involved establishing a portal to a negative energy plane and pulling creatures from there. However, this method was extremely expensive, even for high-level mages, and it required careful consideration.
So, most morally questionable necromancers preferred to hang around graveyards and charnel grounds—simply because they were usually broke.
In contrast, someone like Matthew, who had bought or found almost every single bone in the cellar, was considered quite ethical among necromancers.
...
"Move!"
Matthew gave the command, and the somewhat sluggish skeletal soldiers began to follow his footsteps.
A chill filled the air, and even the raucous night wind fell silent as if it, too, feared the arrival of the undead.
...
"Boom!"
A violent explosion of flames erupted in the farmlands. The roaring wind only fueled the fire's growth, and the farm gradually disappeared into the inferno.
Wearing a black vest, revealing his muscular torso, Blackthorn displayed a genuine, heartfelt smile. He suppressed his urge to continue setting fires and turned his gaze towards the dark forest not far away.
"Fein's intelligence seems accurate. Attacking Rollingstone Town at this time, and they have no defenses!"
"Heh, let me give them a more fiery surprise!"
He walked confidently towards the hillside. Behind him, six henchmen followed suit.
"Is everything in place?"
Blackthorn asked casually.
"Don't worry, boss. Not a single soul remains; they're all burned alive!" one of the henchmen with a scarred face grinned menacingly.
Blackthorn nodded in satisfaction. As an 11th-level "Arsonist," he could sense his power increasing ever so slightly.
It wasn't a massive boost, but it was clearly visible. In fact, he had planned to retreat after burning down the farm, but the tempting sensation of his growing power made him change his mind instantly.
He could feel the vitality of the oak forest ahead. Setting this forest ablaze would grant him a tremendous increase in power.
It was likely about ten times more than what he would gain from burning the farm. This was almost equivalent to burning down a whole block in a city, but the risk was much lower than setting a city on fire.
No arsonist could resist such temptation, especially when Blackthorn also realized that burning this forest would clear his path towards the legendary journey that had been obscure until now.
He couldn't contain his wild thoughts any longer.
Burn!
Burn!
He would set it all ablaze!
...
"Stop!"
As Blackthorn reached the midpoint of the hill, he suddenly shouted.
His six henchmen immediately approached, alert and ready.
"Boss, what's wrong? Should we retreat?" Scarface inquired.
Ignoring the question, Blackthorn simply stared ahead with widened eyes, focusing intently. A faint green glow drifted on the night breeze, carrying a hint of decay in the air.
"It's Bonefire," Blackthorn murmured as he gazed at the figures slowly emerging on the hillside.
Skeletons?
Necromancers?
The crease in Blackthorn's brow loosened.
"Did Fein send you? Tell him that I will find him after burning this forest!"
"As for whether I'll join the guild, it depends on his sincerity."
The skeletal soldiers remained motionless, and the person controlling these undead creatures from the shadows remained silent.
Blackthorn chuckled, slightly annoyed.
"You don't seriously think you can stop me with these skeletal puppets, do you?"
His henchmen joined in the laughter.
Scarface even volunteered, "Boss, I can take on these skeletons all by myself!"
Blackthorn shook his head, his gaze scanning the vicinity, sharp and alert, but he refrained from making any sudden movements.
After a few minutes, his tensed state suddenly relaxed. The muscles in his massive chest seemed to twitch uncontrollably.
"Don't play coy. I've already located your position—didn't Fein inform you about my abilities? I'm quite sensitive to temperatures."
He taunted in the direction of the skeletal soldiers, "You death mages really enjoy hiding among the riffraff, don't you? Not very creative!"
But there was still no response from the other side.
Blackthorn finally grew angry, "If you don't get out of here, I'll burn you along with the rest!"
With those words, he suddenly produced a glass bottle that was ablaze.
"I'm not playing games."
Finally, a voice came from one of the skeletal soldiers at the back, "I'm just waiting for the Fungus Pouch to take effect—the one you inhaled just now."
Matthew stood on the hill, his withered wood staff emanating a significant amount of negative energy.
"Fungus Pouch: Accelerated Infection!"
Blackthorn realized something was wrong. His henchmen's expressions grew panicked as they began to feel uneasy.
"Why does my face itch?"
"My arm, too!"
"It's so itchy! It feels like something is about to burst out!"
In their terrified gazes, red blotches began to appear on some of their skin surfaces. Initially unnoticeable, these blotches quickly became intensely itchy. People couldn't resist scratching, and when they did, yellow-green pus oozed out, further spreading the infection.
As the infection area continued to expand, the air filled with the presence of negative energy from the negative plane.
"Stop scratching! Kill that necromancer, and we'll be fine!"
Blackthorn roared and charged forward, despite the maddening itch. His followers, still scratching uncontrollably, rushed after him.
Matthew continued to wave his staff, and this time, he didn't even need to chant.
"Necromancy Summoning Spell: Servants of the Covenant!"
"Your ability 'Instant Summoning' is in effect!"
"Your ability 'Precision Descent' is in effect!"
A massive green circle appeared in the area that the charging group was about to reach.
"Get out of the way!"
Before Blackthorn could complete his sentence, a towering figure descended from the sky.
Boom!
One of his henchmen couldn't dodge in time and was reduced to a pulp. Those beside him were impacted by the shockwave and tumbled down the hill.
Blackthorn glared furiously, but he noticed the two-meter-tall figure standing bewilderedly, inspecting her surroundings.
Her bones were immaculately white, but the most noticeable feature was the tray she held in her hand.
"Matthew? Are you ready for dinner? Perfect, I just reheated the mushroom stir-fry..."
Peggy looked cheerfully at Matthew.
"No, put the stir-fry away, Peggy. I need you to fight for me."
Matthew spoke.
Peggy's mood suddenly turned serious. She turned to face the arsonist and said to Matthew, "Then please enhance me."
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