A lich was seen strolling in the forest with a wraith a little ahead of it seemingly guiding.
Walking through a forest honestly spooked the avatar, considering this is the death realm. Death and trees don't relate much. But now he sees a whole forest? Norris honestly was speechless. Magic is really magical.
The avatar entered the Noble's territory. It was struck by the eerie yet lively atmosphere.
As Norris's avatar walked through the town, accompanied by the wraith (the messenger but now a guide), it couldn't help but notice the undead in the surroundings.
They were all remarkably... coherent. No shambling, mindless corpses here. These undead were intelligent, smart, and eerily self-aware. It was clear that every single one of them was a Level 3 being.
Norris almost broke out in a cold sweat—fortunate or unfortunately, bones can't sweat.
He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for being prudent. Coming here in avatar form had been the right decision. These undead were not to be underestimated, and he had no doubt that they would not hesitate to tear apart anyone who went against their collective will, the Noble of the land they lived on.
The air was thick with the scent of death and decay, but it was overlaid with a sense of vitality, like the hum of a well-oiled machine.
Everywhere the avatar looked, it saw undead creatures, but they weren't the mindless, shambling hordes Norris had encountered since coming to the Death Realm. These undead were organized, structured, and seemed to be working together towards some common purpose.
The wraith led the avatar through the twisted, ancient forest that surrounded the town, its trees looming above like sentinels. As they emerged from the forest, skeletal warriors on nightmare mounts patrolled the borders, their empty eyes glowing with unnatural energy— like a ball of twisted fire.
The Nightmares—horse-like undead creatures themselves—were twisted, corrupted beasts, their bodies a mass of writhing, pulsing tendrils. The avatar saw other undead creatures too—zombies, ghouls, and even what looked like a pack of ghostly, spectral hounds. They all seemed to be working together, moving with a purpose that belied their undead state.
Coming out of the forest, Norris avatar entered the core domain. Norris could only describe it in a word— mindblown.
The Noble's territory was magnificent, with a violent order permeating every aspect. Almost all the undead around were warriors. They released their pressure all over the place without sufficient control, or because they deemed it meaningless to do so. In the mortal world, this could be considered a challenge. Unleashing your pressure was considered unethical. In the death realm though…Norris couldn't say for sure. This was his first meeting with civilization in this realm.
If not for their undead state, to Norris's sight, they exuded all the stereotypes of warriors—rough, brash, not very smart, and willing to take orders. They were also very active for undead, as creatures with near-eternal life should have a slow pace of life. All this showed the Noble's absolute control over his domain.
The structures and buildings were all in a decaying state like they wanted you to know that this was the death realm. Vitality thrives but in its lowest form.
Norris's avatar was led to the only structure that looked elegant.
Upon entering, he saw some creatures that looked like abominations, created by the very essence of chaos. Their forms were grotesque and unsettling, a mishmash of limbs, eyes, and other body parts that defied natural order. These beings were in the sublimation stage, their chaotic energies trapped within crystal prisons. Showing off, the purpose was clearly deterrent.
As Norris's avatar ventured deeper into the massive building, he encountered an array of dark fantasy and undead sights that painted a vivid picture of the realm's macabre nature.
The first thing that caught its eye was the weapon room, a cavernous space filled with an arsenal of ominous, twisted weapons. Each one was mounted on the walls, glinting with a malevolent sheen under the dim, flickering light of enchanted torches. The weapons were trophies of the Noble's past victories, a testament to the countless battles fought and won. Some were rusted and stained with dark, dried blood, while others gleamed with enchantments that pulsed with dark energy.
The avatar passed through eerie corridors lined with enchanted runes that glowed with an unholy light. These runes whispered ancient incantations, their spectral voices echoing through the halls. The air was thick with an oppressive aura, a constant reminder of the dark magic that permeated the realm.
Spectral guards patrolled silently, their translucent forms barely visible in the dim light. These ghostly sentinels moved with an otherworldly grace, their eyes glowing with an ethereal light. They carried ancient weapons, relics of a bygone era, and their presence added to the overall sense of unease.
In one chamber, the avatar encountered a grand hall filled with rows of undead soldiers. These skeletal warriors stood at attention, their empty eye sockets glowing with an eerie, unnatural light. Their armor was adorned with intricate, glowing runes, and their weapons were sharp and menacing. It was clear that these undead soldiers were ready to defend their domain at a moment's notice.
Norris's avatar was alone at some point, his guide silently leaving.
At the heart of the structure was a vast room, its walls adorned with tapestries depicting the Noble's conquests and victories. In the center of this room was a grand throne, and upon it sat the Noble—a sublimated headless knight. His body was clad in dark, armored plate, adorned with intricate, glowing runes. Beside him stood his mount, the King of all nightmares in the territory, a twisted, shadowy horse with eyes that glowed with a malevolent energy.
The entire domain was a place of dark wonder, where the boundaries between life and death were blurred and distorted.
Looking at the figure before him was like looking at the whole territory.
The avatar approached the Noble and greeted him formally. As an opponent in a 1v1 fight, Norris wasn't really afraid. But the influence of the Noble before him evoked a sense of awe.
The Noble, however, was not about to have a friendly conversation. He began to speak in a low, soothing voice, his skeletal face gleaming with malevolent intent.
"You're a clever one, Mr. Mage," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "I know what you are. You're a living necromancer, a breathing, beating heart in a world of dust and bones. You think you can walk among us unnoticed?"