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Did it sound foolish to attempt to assassinate an undying Undead Emperor? In this world, however, there was no such thing as truly undying.

Even the True Gods, who called themselves eternal, could perish. So-called immortal liches would naturally die if their phylacteries were crushed. “Undying” individuals were only undying because the correct method to kill them hadn’t yet been discovered.

Killing an undying individual with the wrong method would force that individual into a temporary hibernation. For example, it would take liches and high-level Blood Tribe members about two or three years to recover their strength and come back for revenge.

Some things were common for all the undying. For instance, one would greatly weaken when they lose their physical body, making it impossible for them to run amok for a while.

As for me, the “Undying Roland,” every time I died I’d require my physical body to mature again for more than twenty years. The last time wouldn’t have been any different if I hadn’t exchanged for a physical body through my System, but this type of information on me could be obtained through certain channels and wasn’t exactly top secret.

For the undead, killing off the me who was in their way and forcing me into a weak state after resurrection would mean one less obstacle in their path. If it was done properly, it would even cause the Mage Country and Bardi Empire to start an all-out war with each other. This would be an amazing outcome for the undead.

For the various undead, being able to slay an Undead Emperor would be the greatest of honors. This would also greatly improve their reputations as it would be in the name of seeking revenge for Aso. Just the rewards they’d receive from the other Undead Emperors would be more than enough to last them the rest of their lives.

As for me taking revenge after I regained my strength? If the undead invasion succeeded, I would have to enact my revenge against the entire Tark Republic. On the other hand, if they failed to assassinate me, there would be no revenge to worry about, either.

I had only figured out all these things afterwards. For those risking everything, “potential revenge in the future” was barely a threat. I had only shown off power at the Gold rank and had been walking around openly on the streets—this naturally attracted vicious predators.

“Heehee! I’ve never tasted the blood of an Undead Emperor. I bet you taste lovely.”

With a pink ponytail, a cute, blushing round face, and a young child’s attire, this little girl, who was sucking on a blood-red lollipop, would be a priceless treasure to a certain group of people.

She kept sneaking glances at me, blushing as if she were a little girl near delectable food. However, her frightening blood energy was proof this vampire archduchess was just pretending to be a little girl.

“Alexandra, you little bitch! Stop acting so pure! Still, I suppose I could give this handsome shota over to you when I’m done with him.”

The one who spoke was a tall and bald old man with a face filled with scars. From his thick, black armor and the black flames upon it, he seemed to belong to a dark job class. Perhaps a magic knight.

“…Revenge.”

The final figure who walked out was quite tall as he lightly waved around a black sickle. His black cape instantly transformed into a shadow, vanishing together with him.

Along with these three Myth-ranked Undead Lords were plenty of subordinates. Aso had left all his main subordinates in the Bardi capital in order to control the situation, and they had stayed behind even after his sudden death. Now, they became my trouble.

No matter if it were their auras or their true power levels, these three Undead Lords, who appeared from nowhere, were no ordinary Myth-ranked undead. This was all the more so as they had been Aso’s direct subordinates. Unfortunately for me, Aso had intentionally wiped all traces of their existence when handing his memories over, so I had no clue about them at all.

“Your Highness Roland, if you’re willing to give us our former master’s potion, not only will we not attack you, but we’ll even be willing to serve you.”

The vampire archduchess was all smiles as she spoke. From this sentence alone, it could be deduced that the Bardi Empire still had a spy at the highest level either among the dragons or the Bardi royalty.

“Little youngster, no matter how powerful you were in the past, you’re no better than a Gold-ranked novice at the moment. How long do you think you can last against the combined attacks of the three of us?”

They were playing good-cop, bad-cop. These Undead Lords were obviously very intelligent and understood human emotions quite well. While this wouldn’t be rare for leaders of other species, they were high-level undead… Well, even though they wouldn’t admit it, it was a fact that the higher the level of an undead, the more “humanlike” they’d become.

“Snake Archduchess Alexandra, Agfan the Famine, and Death Sickle Harris. They’re all powerful veterans and aren’t easy to deal with. Reinforcements will be here for you soon, Roland. Do your best to solidify your defense and wait for help.”

The silly cat jumped out of a shadow. As my magical pet, she had the ability to come to my side at any moment. What surprised me was that she actually recognized these three Undead Lords. But then I thought about how she had acted ridiculously and had stirred up trouble everywhere for the sake of her revenge. Naturally, she would have contacted the Undead Planes in an effort to destroy the world. I understood how it was.

Since someone as prideful as her said they were difficult to deal with, this would evidently be a difficult battle.

“What information do you have?”

“It’s rumored that the Snake Archduchess wasn’t a human to begin with. Instead, it’s said that she’s actually a Blood Tribe member from the immemorial generation with Winged Snake blood in her. Don’t be fooled by her weak little girl physical appearance that seems so easy to push over. Actually, it’s said that she doesn’t have any bones in her body and she can flex her joints in any direction at will. She’s incredibly skilled at melee combat and has her own special techniques.”

“As for that baldie who looks so ferocious in armor, he’s actually a curse magic expert. His most vicious spell, Curse of Fatigue, will make you lose stamina at ten times the normal rate. It’s quite difficult to deal with. Long battles of attrition are what he specializes in. But the fact that he’s a curse magic expert means that the curses will also backlash and corrode his physical body. It’s impossible for his physical fighting capabilities to be strong. Try to get close to him and kill him off.”

“I’m not too certain about Death Sickle’s specific abilities. I only know that he’s a famously powerful assassin. However, his weapon is quite well known. It’s called ‘Singh’s Call’ and possesses the three negative effects of weakening, poison, and instant death, so don’t let it touch you. Oh, I also remember that Singh’s Call is supposed to be a curved sword. That sickle of his is probably just to distract your attention. He’s wearing really long sleeves, so be careful of him suddenly pulling out his real weapon from his sleeves.”

It was such a great advantage to have someone as experienced as Harloys on my side. Of course, even without this information I still might not lose, but I’d definitely have a harder time. And my enemies were evidently skilled strategists. The original tactical objective I had set for myself until Harloys told me all this was to forcefully kill the Snake Archduchess as quickly as possible—evidently a foolish idea.

“They’ve already surrounded me?”

The three Myth-ranked undead were no idiots who would waste time talking. While it seemed like they were making me an offer, they never intended to negotiate in the first place. As long as I let down my guard by even the slightest and believed that I could walk away today without a fight, lightning quick attacks would have instantly come at me. Even if I didn’t let down my guard, they had nothing to lose as the other undead surrounding me could finish their formation.

*Kaching!*

From under the Clint armor’s helmet came a green light. Glina had restored her Clint armor to fighting status. And this was the perfect lure for the tense undead to lose their patience.

“Use your bullet storm attack!”

Glina didn’t know why I made this request, but she didn’t hesitate to do as I asked.

“All remaining bullets, bullet storm!”

But the next instant, everything around her blackened before turning white. The next thing she saw was an icy river.

I casually tossed Glina into my Frigidwinter Earth. In front of powerful opponents like these, Glina was still too inexperienced and would only drag me down.

As I had expected, a sickle appeared right where the Clint armor had originally been standing. Unfortunately, Harris had been just a little late.

The furious Harris glared at me before he returned into the shadows.

The undead weren’t having a fun time, either. The Clint armor’s instant explosive attack power was particularly suited for clearing large crowds. Numerous undead had instantly been killed off. An unlucky lich, who had been casting a spell, was unable to dodge the bullets. He shattered into tiny bones that flew everywhere.

“Fatigue!”

The baldie laughed viciously in a disgusting manner. However, the black light on his arm was what was truly dangerous.

A sudden sense of fatigue made my head feel dizzy. I stopped in my tracks at this and almost dropped the Ice Calamity sword I was holding. The very next instant, however, the tiny vampire girl had arrived in front of me, and the gigantic battle hammer in her hands, which was even larger than she was, crashed into me.

*Crack!*

That wasn’t the sound of my bones cracking. Instead, her enchanted metal hammer had broken into pieces. Her hammer would have been more than sufficient to break through any normal castle wall, but it was meaningless against my heavy dragon armor.

Alexandra had zero intentions of retreating even though I had suddenly donned my heavy armor. She let go of her broken hammer and filled her tiny hands with blood energy, and then began attacking me with her bare fists!

This time, her fists landed heavy blows directly against me, and I even felt a faint sensation of pain where I was hit.

“The martial arts technique of hitting a cow through a mountain… such penetrative force! A Blood Tribe member actually chose to be a member of the monk job class!?”

It wasn’t that I particularly discriminated against Blood Tribe members becoming monks. It was just that the monk job class required one to use ascetic techniques bordering on masochism in order to develop one’s potential to the fullest. And, foundationally, it required the power of life force.

Monks were capable of using the life force known as “Qi.” They’d fill their fists with Qi and would then be able to use supernatural seeming martial arts techniques through this type of cultivation. High-level monks would be capable of healing their own injuries after mastering control of their life force. How was it possible for a Blood Tribe to master the power of life force?

But the indisputable truth was right before me, so I had to believe it. She was evidently a master of the monks’ penetrative techniques used to fight against heavily armored targets. The places where she struck me started hurting more and more. My injuries even began to bleed. It was evident that she had covered her fists with the Blood Tribe’s special blood energy.

It would have been fine if she was just a monk. It wasn’t like I’d never defeated high-level monks before. However, she was incredibly agile and flexible—as Harloys had told me, she was basically boneless. Her punches and kicks would come at me from inconceivable angles. In just pure melee fighting techniques, she had far surpassed any so-called fisticuffs grandmaster. Plus, the “Curse of Fatigue” on me lowered my physical abilities and reaction speed. The end result was that I received a beating as if I were a sandbag.

The Snake Archduchess attacked like the wind and retreated as swiftly as lightning. She danced around me as if she were a snake tangled around my body, constantly throwing full-force heavy punches. Meanwhile, my sword hadn’t landed a single blow. With each sword swing, I found that I had aimed in the wrong direction and that she was already behind me.

“In typical transmigrator stories, isn’t it always about the reincarnated protagonist using Chinese martial arts to beat up some armored knights? Why is it that in my story, the transmigrated knight is being beaten up by martial arts? Isn’t something wrong with this story… Damn you! You still use such underhanded techniques even though things are like this already?”

I directly sent out my magic to transform this entire area into an ice river. Alexandra was unaffected, however, but when her shirt opened up slightly as she dashed around me, I noticed metallic jewelry of various colors on her body.

Low-level ice resistance rings, anti-ice and snow defense equipment, and all sorts of accessories. At a rough estimate, I saw more than thirty or forty anti-ice magic defensive equipment on her body. Even her little tongue was pierced with several magic anti-ice rings. I had no idea how she was capable of ensuring that all this equipment took effect simultaneously. Yet it was a fact that she must have done so—she was nigh immune to ice magic. These Undead Lords had done plenty of preparations before they fought against me.

This was all still bearable, but the scariest part was still her astonishing punching power. With each and every punch, the place I was struck would bruise and then start bleeding through the bruise. Unless I was able to deal with this issue, I would sooner or later end up bleeding to death.

“…This is probably her Concept.”

The foundational difference between Saint- and Myth-ranked individuals was that those at Myth were capable of transforming their understanding of a Concept into something concrete and physical. A Myth rank would use that as their core fighting style, making them incredibly difficult to deal with. Even worse was that it would be very difficult to defend against or dispel their Concept’s effects.

Most Myth-ranked individuals would integrate their Concepts into their personal weapons. Alexandra, however, evidently didn’t have the habit of using weapons. Her body was her best weapon, and every attack of hers applied her Blood Tribe’s “bloodletting” ability. This type of monk was far too dangerous.

While Roland was fully on guard, dealing with his enemies, the three Myth-ranked Undead Lords were secretly having a tough time. They never expected Roland to be so difficult to deal with.

His impenetrable armor was shameless enough, and this wasn’t in the information they had on him. It made the assassin Harris mostly useless—when he had attacked with his Singh’s Call against Roland’s armor, the Singh’s Call curved sword had actually been slightly damaged. Unless Harris could land a blow on Roland’s skin, his strongest attacks would be useless.

And that was how the top assassin under Aso could only helplessly stand by the side.

As for Agfan the Famine, he was having even more of a headache. He had already tossed out more than ten curses, including ones with the effects of instant death, idiocy, or aging. Yet the only one that took effect was his greatest specialty, the Curse of Fatigue, which incorporated his “Power of the Brink.” Roland’s ridiculously high resistance against curses made him wonder if Roland was the incarnation of a True God.

Meanwhile, the main physical fighter, the Snake Archduchess, wasn’t having it easy either. Every one of her direct hits could kill a typical Myth-ranked warrior, yet she had already landed several hundred direct hits on Roland. Her hands had been damaged by the force of her blows to the point where she had already regenerated them several dozen times. But Roland didn’t even appear injured.

“Even though the stupid baldie’s Curse of Fatigue has clearly taken effect on him, he’s still jumping around in such a lively manner. And his armor is even capable of reflecting ice damage. If I hadn’t brought a sufficient amount of anti-ice defensive equipment… as expected, all those who become Undead Emperors are monsters.”

What worried Alexandra the most was Roland’s frightening physical strength—he created gusts of wind every time he swung his sword. Just the wind pressure alone made it difficult to breathe, the best evidence of how physically strong he was.

“His physical strength must be greater than an Immemorial Dragon’s.”

Although she hadn’t taken a single hit, she was dancing on a cliff. If even one sword swing connected, it would simply be a question of how many pieces she would be lacerated into.

This was evidently a bad situation for the three Myth-ranked undead who had not wanted to draw attention to themselves and intended to finish this battle as quickly as possible.

As Alexandra started feeling more and more anxious, Roland suddenly put away his sword. Silver wings sprouted out of his back, and he launched himself into the air and laughed maniacally.

“Not bad! Not bad at all! But it’s all meaningless! Now it’s my turn—let me show you my second form. Wahahaha! I’m an unsolvable bug! You want to kill me off before the server shuts down? Impossible! I can still transform four—no—five more times!”