Kon'n, you should have left the talking to me from the beginning," the specter cackled, its ominous form swelling as even more undead poured into the land, spreading like a plague.

  Kon'n and the representatives from the other territories retreated further. None of them intended to participate in the brewing battle—nor did they have any intention of aiding the undead army.

  "Human!" The specter, towering above the corpse-ridden field, glared at Scott. "What is your name?"

  Scott didn't answer. Instead, he giggled and shook his head, stepping forward. "And this is your army?" he mocked, his voice echoing as his gaze swept across the horde of undead spilling through the cracks.

  The air seethed with a deathly energy, gnawing away at the remaining traces of life within the battle-scarred land.

  "You'll need to do a whole lot better than this," Scott grinned, stopping at the center of the motionless judges.

  "Haughty until the end, huh?" The specter fired back, its eyes blazing with excitement and unrestrained malice. "Very well, then. Let's see if you have the strength to match your words!"

  A deathly shriek tore from the specter's throat. Thousands of armor-clad, spear-wielding skeletons advanced, their synchronized march sending tremors through the earth. The hollow groans of the undead echoed like a death knell, rising in a chilling chorus.

  One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four—

  The skeletons quickened their pace. What began as a sluggish, mechanical march became a frenzied charge. Their feet pounded against the corroded earth, blackened energy writhing around their spears. Amethyst flickers burned in their empty eye sockets as they surged toward Scott and the unmoving judges.

  Then—a judge of madness stirred.

  Its steps were labored but deliberate. Four sleek war hammers manifested in its hands, blackened flames igniting across the weapons. The specter’s distant laughter echoed.

  "You think one is enough to—" The specter's words faltered. An eye had formed on the faceless judge.

  The advancing skeletons froze, compelled by an unseen force. The judge's eye blinked—and it swung one of its hammers through the air.

  Silence.

  Confusion rippled through the battlefield. Then, a sound pierced the stillness—screams. Guttural, maniacal wails erupted from the skeletons as they turned on each other, hacking away with ruthless precision and unbridled savagery.

  "What are you doing?!" the specter roared, its visage twisting into something even more hideous. "How dare you disobey your lord!"

  The rest of the undead prostrated themselves, but the skeletal army continued their mindless slaughter. Each time a skeleton fell, blackened flames leapt from the judge's weapons to consume it, ensuring it would not rise again.

  Within minutes, the skeletal horde lay in ruins—bones and shattered weapons scattered across the field.

  The judge advanced, its flame-coated bones casting eerie shadows. The battlefield seemed to part before it, the remains of the skeletons shifting aside as it approached the specter and its remaining forces.

  One step. Two steps. Three steps.

  Behind the judge, bones stirred. Flames linked joints together, reanimating the fallen into a corrupted skeletal army.

  Scott's grin widened. This is even better than I expected... He giggled aloud, eager to see what else the specter had to offer.

  "You!" the specter bellowed, its form swelling as figures clad in blackened hoods emerged from the portal. "How dare you sully my collection—give them back!"

  The hooded figures rose into the air, their ominous chants echoing as seven massive, colorful magic circles flared behind them.

  Thunder raged overhead, lightning weaving jagged webs across the sky. Fierce winds howled, threatening to tear the battlefield apart. Sections of earth wrenched free, twisting into towering golems, while others spiked upward in jagged formations.

  Rain poured from the heavens, but the waters twisted unnaturally around the hooded sorcerers. From the swirling currents, icicles formed, water spirits emerged, and demons slithered free—whispers of unspeakable malice rising from the floating pools.

  The bestial undead, the most dominant of the horde, moved next. Their wails—raw, animalistic cries of slaughter—shook the battlefield as they charged toward the advancing judge and the reanimated skeletons.

  High above, the floating mages stretched their hands forward, and the magic circles spun into motion—unleashing the calamities they had summoned.

  The Judge of Madness halted in its track. With a silent command, it lifted its war hammers toward the approaching horde, and the corrupted skeletal army unleashed a war cry as they charged toward the bestial undead.

  At that same moment, the massive golems sank into the earth, instantly reappearing where the judge stood. Without delay, the hulking creatures rained a barrage of crushing blows on the judge.

  The judge, however, shifted its stance, parrying the strikes with its war hammers and cracking the stone bodies of the earth constructs.

  Meanwhile, screams and groans echoed as the corrupted skeletal army clashed with their bestial counterparts, each side butchering the other with ruthless barbarism. Neither side felt pain, nor were they burdened by the chains of fatigue.

  Icicles—tens of hundreds—rained down on the warring undead, devastating vast sections of the battlefield with each impact. Those caught in the deluge were frozen, impaled, shattered, or buried beneath mountains of ice.

  The clash between the golems and the judge grew even more violent, spiraling toward the ongoing slaughter between the corrupted and bestial undead. The judge weaved through the relentless assault, its war hammers unleashing a storm of blows that shattered and chipped away at the towering constructs.

  "What are you doing!" the specter roared, its eyes blazing with ghoulish flames. "How can all of you struggle against one measly summon?! Eliminate it!"

  The massive water pool stirred at the specter's shout, the ominous whispers rising to a deafening pitch. It blitzed through the air, casting a shadow over the battle between the judge and the golems.

  Sensing the incoming calamity, the judge swung its arms furiously, sending a wave of blackened flames toward the descending pool. With mere inches to spare, the pool splintered into smaller clusters, evading the flaming onslaught.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  At that same moment, a golem struck the judge across its face, sending the summon hurtling into the path of another massive fist, which launched it even further across the battlefield.

  As the water droplets struck the earth, it trembled violently. From the soaked ground, grey flowers burst forth, rising skyward. Each petal shattered, scattering to the ground—only to sprout even more vines and flowers. In an instant, the grey blossoms spread as far as the eye could see.

  Then—creatures emerged. Hulking, deformed beings clawed their way out of the earth, their heads formed from the grey flowers, their bodies towering and far more menacing than the stone golems.

  A thunderous explosion echoed across the battlefield as several golems erupted simultaneously. The Judge of Madness stood tall amidst the debris, war hammers in tow. Cracks lined its surface as it faced the seemingly endless army of flower demons.

  Its grip tightened around its weapons, and without hesitation, the judge charged forward. The flower demons surged to meet it, their hulking forms bristling with violent intent. The judge’s fists swelled with an unnatural menace as it prepared to swing its hammers. Yet—vines erupted from the earth like venomous serpents, coiling around the judge’s limbs and hoisting it into the air.

  Then—they pulled.

  A barrage of massive lightning bolts crashed from the heavens, striking the suspended judge with deafening force. In a flash, several water demons materialized midair, their razor-sharp claws slicing toward the judge’s limbs and neck. With a swift motion, they severed the judge’s form, and the vines flung the broken pieces across the battlefield.

  The flower demons, the reconstructed golems, the water demons, bestial undead, and every other summon charged toward Scott and the remaining judges.

  Scott began to clap, a deranged smile twisting his features. "Wonderful," he said, his applause intensifying. "That's truly beyond my expectations. But aren't you forgetting something?" He raised a single finger toward the sky.

  As if compelled by his words, the specter lifted its gaze. And then—it saw it. Blackened waves of fire, rolling over each other, stretching across the sky, casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield.

  The specter’s eyes narrowed in confusion. "Where did this come from?" it muttered, its voice faltering.

  It suddenly recalled the flaming wave the water pool had narrowly dodged earlier.

  "I refuse to believe this is happening," it growled, its voice trembling between denial and reluctant acceptance.

  The infernal wave descended with ruthless finality, and nihilistic portals manifested around Scott and the judges, shielding them from the oncoming horde.

  The specter, on the other hand, shrank its form in an instant, and another undead creature manifested in its place.

  The firestorm struck, and the battlefield erupted in chaos. Towering pillars of flame scorched the land while the nihilistic portals consumed everything the fire touched—erasing them from existence.

  When the flames finally faded, Scott and the judges reemerged unscathed. His gaze shifted toward the remnants of the undead encampment, locking onto the specter who had escaped annihilation by sacrificing its companion.

  He could see clearly the trembling form of the creature, its earlier bravado a thing of the past. Scott's gaze swept past the other representatives, his smile brightening by the second. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sharp whizzing sound suddenly cut through the air.

  The fragmented form of the Judge of Madness reassembled itself before Scott, its battle scars still visible for all to see.

  Scott chuckled. "There you are. Nice job," he said, his tone light. "Rid yourself of those injuries."

  The judge's singular eye blinked, and reality itself twisted. The cracks lining its form vanished as though they had never existed. The war hammers lost their flames, merging seamlessly with its arms. Then—the eye disappeared, and the judge returned to its silent, immobile state.

  Silence fell over the battlefield as Scott stepped forward. "Thirty minutes left."

  No one knew who moved first, but six factions instantly fled through the nearest spatial tears.

  Kon'n, who had been observing the battle with calm detachment, finally spoke. "It's our fault for underestimating you. Your confidence is warranted," he admitted, his golden mane swaying with the wind. "However, you severely underestimate us if you think this is enough to take on the combined might of our forces—hundreds of thousands of battle-ready champions—because that's what you're up against."

  "You know what? You're right," Scott agreed, nodding.

  Kon'n's mouth opened in surprise. For a moment, a smile tugged at his lips before he suppressed it. "I'm glad you see reason. We can reach a mutually beneficial compromise to settle any lingering resentment," he offered.

  Scott nodded again, this time more fervently. "I don't have the time to hunt down hundreds of thousands of people," he admitted. "And, honestly, that number might be a little too much for these guys."

  "What?" Kon'n's confusion deepened. "You still intend to fight us?"

  "Fight?" Scott laughed softly, shaking his head. "There won't be much of that going on—that, I can promise you."

  A massive nihilistic portal unfurled beneath his feet, spreading like a plague across the battlefield. The Chains of the Abyss uncoiled from his arm, extending deep into the churning void. Within seconds, sharp twangs echoed through the air as the chains began to drag something out.

  A creature wrapped in nightmarish flames and soot struggled futilely against its bindings. Next came a hulking beast of pure muscle, its misty eyes leaking corrosive blood. A massive head without a discernible form followed. Then, the silhouette of a serpentine monstrosity with six heads emerged, writhing as the chains tightened around it.

  More sounds followed. A cacophony of guttural wails and shrieks filled the air as abominations poured forth from the abyss. Their numbers swelled by the second.

  A yellowish mist began to bubble from the blackened earth, and a gigantic silhouette loomed within. A lopsided, meaty creature—a thing of rolling folds and countless, glistening eyes—manifested behind Scott. Each eye shimmered like a distant star, pulsating with an alien intelligence.

  Nightmarish beings, too many to count, emerged one after another. Within a minute, thousands of abominations stood at Scott's command. As the nihilistic portals snapped shut, he turned his gaze toward the petrified invaders. "Now, this should be more than enough."

  Kon'n and the other representatives instinctively prepared to flee. For the first time, they truly grasped the weight of Scott's words. These weren't threats—they were promises.

  The champions bolted toward the remaining spatial tears. But before they could escape, new rifts manifested. The factions who had fled moments earlier burst back through, terror twisting their faces. They halted when they saw Scott and his monstrous army.

  Kon'n froze, the shock rendering him speechless. Even the bravest among the invaders stood paralyzed with fear.

  Scott, however, had already turned his attention to a glowing system notification floating before him.

  His eyes narrowed at the familiar message, though something about it felt different this time. Especially after seeing the terror-stricken returnees.

  Something dangerous is coming, Scott mused. The War Hammer of the Mad God shifted from its inactive form, humming with latent power.

  A heavy silence blanketed the battlefield. Then, another tear opened, and colossal figures began to emerge.

  Scott's brows lifted in surprise, a wry smile curling his lips. He summoned a map from his inventory, and it projected itself into his mind. His expression darkened as he examined the changes.

  This is going to be fucking difficult, he thought, locking eyes on the newest arrivals.

  The countless sigils that once marked rival factions had vanished. In their place stood a single emblem—an artistic spider.

  A vast arachnid army poured through the rift. Towering figures with human-like features marched forward, their bodies clad in ornate, heavy metal armor. Elaborate webs were etched into every surface of their gleaming armor. The champions of the Eight-Legs warring tribe had arrived—tens of thousands strong.

  Gasps erupted from Kon'n and the others, drawing Scott's attention. His eyes locked onto an Eight-Leg wielding a spear adorned with severed heads.

  Judging by their reactions, those heads belonged to their territorial lords, he believed.

  If they could take out that many lords and conquer that many territories as swiftly as they did, this is going to be a nightmare, Scott thought grimly.

  The spear-wielding Eight-Leg stepped forward with an air of supreme confidence. "This territory now belongs to me. Yield, and you shall be spared. Resist, and you will die."

  The entire arachnid army echoed the proclamation, their combined bloodlust saturating the air.

  Scott stepped forward. "This is my land," he declared, his voice unwavering. "And I've no intention of—"

  "You have chosen death, then," the arachnid interrupted. "Prove yourself worthy of an honorable death."

  With a unified roar, the Eight-Legs surged forward.

  The Chains of the Abyss snapped, releasing the abominations. Nightmarish howls and unearthly screeches tore through the battlefield as the creatures charged into the oncoming horde, and the land itself trembled beneath their fury.