The trap is sprung.

One Class Upgrade Remaining.

What bravado the villagers had had vanished into pandemonium. A few of the men turned to assist their healer as she desperately fended off the seeking blade of the undead dwarf. He wasn't as fast or as dangerous as he'd been alive, but he was still a very real threat. Unfortunately for the villagers, however, he was far from the most pressing threat on the field.

Assassin Skill: Shroud
Health 24/58
Mana 79/100

Minor Health Regeneration 00:43:10
Stealth: 00:59:59
Adrenaline Surge: 00:00:59

One Class Upgrade Remaining.

Ah, that one was always a rush. The minute-long surge of double my already considerable strength was intoxicating. I felt like I could lift a house. With the flick of my wrists, I hurled my knives at a pair of men who had rushed to aid the priestess. The blades sank so deeply into their backs that even the wide guards at the base of the blade bit into them, leaving less than half the handle visible. They both fell to the ground, dead within moments.

I preferred to use my claws, anyway.

One of the men screamed and raised his weapon to strike me. He'd hit me with it several times already and had grown comfortable. I didn't need the men anymore. They'd done their job as hostages, whittling down the Priest's resources for me. Good boys. The least I could do for them was a quick ****.

Before the man could reverse his weapon's momentum to bring it swinging back down at me, I plunged my clawed fingers through his ribs into the left side of his chest. I let him fall and moved on. Another three men died quickly, blood spraying everywhere before the remaining five realized the game was over.

A couple turned to run back towards the priestess. I lashed out with my long tentacles to catch them by their necks, tossing them backwards into the air while I dispatched their friends. One of them had caught an unfortunate barb in his jugular and was doomed if he didn't get immediate help.

Help was not coming.

But I'd promised him a quick ****. Not out loud, of course, nor could he have known. But that didn't matter to me.

I ended both of them with swift slashes from my claws and stood with a sigh of satisfaction. They were just ragtag villagers, but there were a lot of them. The rush of their cumulative experience was somewhat thrilling.

The delightful sound of my priestess crying out in pain once more drew my attention to her struggle. My minion had managed to catch her in the shoulder while she readied something at him. She unleashed the spell and multiple barriers sprang into existence around the undead. My antimagic shell and his own shield amulet. He raised his weapon again and she cursed, throwing herself into a roll away from him despite the crossbow bolt lodged in her side.

He pressed forward, consuming all of her attention, and she threw up a barrier to slow him so she could climb to her feet.

Good.

She would likely find a way to defeat him soon, but I wanted a few moments.

I cast a healing spell on myself, and then spread my arms wide over the mess of bodies at my feet, reaching my power out to several of them at once.

Priest Skill: Healing Magic - Level 1
Priest Skill: Create Undead - Level 1 (x6)

Health 49/58
Mana 11/100

Minor Health Regeneration 00:42:37
Stealth: 00:59:26
Adrenaline Surge: 00:00:26

One Class Upgrade Remaining.

Six of the corpses lurched and exploded, consumed as ingredients for my spell. I wasn't animating the bodies, I was just using them to create new undead monsters. The townspeople had taken shelter in the church, but I wanted to make sure they stayed there.

A half dozen skeletal brutes stood around me. Shorter than the humans I'd made them from, but sturdier, with vicious looking limbs of jagged bone and clawed hands. I ordered them to comb the village for any stragglers and take them to the church, then surround it and kill anyone who tried to leave. As one, they turned and shambled in separate directions to fulfill my orders.

I could really get used to this necromancy thing. But no, once I had my children to command, they would not be necessary. A tool, perhaps, when needed, but they would never be my main soldiers.

A brilliant flash of silvery light pulled my focus back to the Priest. I turned my head just in time to see my undead soldier's body disintegrate, leaving only a few metal objects behind.

Her assailant dispatched, the priestess whirled back to face me and gasped in horror at the macabre scene. The ground around me—and indeed also much of my body—was covered in the wet remains of several men, and very few of them in one piece. I couldn't be sure how much of the scene she could actually see, however, as the entire area where I stood was shrouded in magical shadow. It was enough, whatever she saw.

She took a step back and winced. She was bleeding from a few fresh wounds; none of them vital. My minion had been tasked with pressing her aggressively to **** her attention, but not to strike for her chest or throat. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, her strength waning. Still, she gripped her staff before her in both hands. "Y-you! What are you?"

I smiled. "You're fun. I am going to enjoy fucking you." I let several of my tentacles stretch out around me to punctuate the statement.

Her eyes widened, horrified at the thought. It was so cute. She'd probably never even considered the possibility. "What?! N-no... you—" Her fear vanished and she clenched her jaw. Her head lowered slightly and she glared at me with grim determination. "I will die first."

I grinned back at her, preparing to use my adrenaline surge to cover the moderate distance between us. "That's the spirit. I like it when they struggle."

It was true. I really did.