Necromancer: I Am A Disaster

With a deafening crash, Lin Moyu's axe met Tatar's greatsword, and the air trembled, space itself rippling slightly from the force.

Lin Moyu was flung backward, utterly outmatched in raw strength.

He wasn't surprised. Even with Focus Power active, he was only level 53, his strength capped at 1 million.

Tatar, by contrast, was a level 88 atavistic bloodline Dragonkind Knight with slightly higher overall attributes.

However, due to his class, his attributes weren't evenly distributed—strength and physique were significantly boosted, exceeding 1 million and likely reaching 1.2 or even 1.3 million.

And now he had activated his atavistic bloodline and merged his aura with the Ironscale Python beneath him, so it was only natural for Lin Moyu to be sent flying.

Had Lin Moyu been able to use Berserk Strike, Tatar would've been the one sent flying.

But now…

Lin Moyu roughly assessed Tatar's strength.

He was nearing the level of a Dragon King—close, but not quite there, missing some of their defining traits.

This kind of opponent was still manageable.

"You're dead!" Tatar roared, surging forward and closing the distance to Lin Moyu in an instant

The two clashed once more. Though Lin Moyu was the weaker of the two, his combat skills more than compensated. He avoided direct confrontation and skillfully held his ground.

It was rare to face such a well-matched opponent, and Lin Moyu relished the challenge.

Dozens of seconds later, as the effect of Focus Power faded, he swiftly retreated and cast Bone Armor.

Tatar lunged in pursuit, but before he could strike, explosions ripped through his body. Simultaneously, a rain of arrows clattered against him

The undead army had joined the battle, halting Tatar's assault.

Lin Moyu didn't look worried. In fact, he was smiling, smiling contemptuously.

Tatar's pride flared. No one had ever dared look down on him.

"You dare mock me? I'll kill you!"

Lin Moyu had always believed the Dragonkind weren't the brightest, and it seemed the atavistic bloodline ones were no exception.

Tatar's attack power was even weaker than that of the earlier formation. A guy who hadn't even reached fake God-level thought he could kill him? Laughable.

Forget killing him, Tatar couldn't even hurt Lin Moyu if he stood still and took the hits. Damage Transfer and the Lich Generals' healing skill weren't just for show.

"Does this guy really not get it?" Lin Moyu mused, then casually raised a finger.

Skill: Deterioration Curse!

Skill: Poison Starburst!

---

The two skills activated simultaneously.

Tatar stiffened—the curse took effect instantly, slowing his movements.

The sudden disruption in rhythm threw him off balance.

But then a surge of energy erupted from within, beginning to purge the curse.

Dragonkind possessed a natural resistance to curses, and being far higher in level than Lin Moyu, Tatar could dispel his curse within seconds.

But that was all Lin Moyu needed.

Tatar hadn't noticed that during their earlier engagement, Lin Moyu's undead troops had completely surrounded him.

Now, when Lin Moyu struck, it was a killing blow.

Light flared in six dazzling colors. Flames erupted around Tatar, lightning bolts rained down, and a storm crashed overhead.

"What is this!?" Tatar was stunned.

Where did these attacks come from? Why was he on fire? And what was with the lightning?

The damage wasn't massive, but the constant burning and paralyzing shocks left him reeling.

At the undead troops' feet, rings of light glowed, creating a dazzling array of colors.

The already-fast Skeletal Berserk Warriors surged forward, their speed amplified by one of the glowing rings.

They closed in quickly, forming an airtight encirclement.

Lin Moyu had planned everything down to the second. In a flash, the execution began.

He treated Tatar like a world rank boss—an exceptional level of caution, given that Tatar's health wasn't even close to such monsters.

On the back of Lin Moyu's left hand, the 兵 character ignited.

Skill: Enhance Troops.

From the rear, Tashir shouted in alarm, "Be careful! He activated a Primordial Rune!"

Tatar burst into maniacal laughter, "A Primordial Rune? I have one too!"

A brilliant light flared from the back of his hand.

Lin Moyu was startled; his opponent had a Primordial Rune too.

But on second thought, it wasn't so surprising.

Nine Primordial Runes appeared every century, and not all fell into human hands—Demons and Dragonkind could obtain them as well.

It wasn't strange that he had one too.

What it did exactly, Lin Moyu couldn't say. That was the opponent's secret, one not shared lightly.

Even Tashir, his younger brother, probably had no idea.

As the Primordial Rune activated, Tatar's body shimmered with radiant light and began to grow.

He had already been over three meters tall; towering by human standards.

Now, he reached 30 meters in height.

And he wasn't alone.

The Ironscale Python beneath him expanded as well, growing over tenfold until it stretched more than 200 meters long.

Tatar laughed maniacally, "My body has grown tenfold, and my attack power has increased just as much! What can you possibly throw at me to stop me?"

"Those flimsy skeletons? They're nothing but junk!"

Lin Moyu had clearly overestimated Tatar's intelligence. He'd just shouted out his own abilities.

"This brain... completely hopeless." Lin Moyu muttered.

He didn't waste time replying. Instead, his Skeletal Berserk Warriors activated their skill, bringing their axes crashing down like a storm.

Earlier, Tatar's smaller size had limited how many Skeletal Berserk Warriors could engage him at once.

Now, with his enormous frame, they had free access, and they struck with full force.

Axes fell, glowing red with power.

Tatar sneered and swung his greatsword, unleashing a burst of sword light to meet them.

He was still laughing—until impact.

The moment the axes landed, his laughter died.

The Skeletal Berserk Warriors' explosive strength was overwhelming.

Even with his enhanced attack power, Tatar only barely held his ground.

He managed to knock back a few Skeletal Berserk Warriors. But that was all.

There were simply too many. They swarmed him like a tide.

He blocked some blows, but most axes found their mark.

His defenses shattered in an instant, and Tatar screamed in agony.

The Ironscale Python beneath him wasn't faring any better—chunks of flesh flew off its body, exposing bone.

Elemental blasts roared, and explosions erupted.

Arrows rained down like a torrent, turning Tatar into a pincushion.

Lin Moyu watched calmly, "So, strength and size increased, but not defense."

"This Primordial Rune isn't that impressive."

To most, a tenfold increase in attack power was a terrifying ability.

As the saying went, brute strength could overcome a hundred techniques.

With such overwhelming force, Tatar seemed unstoppable.

Who would even bother with defense at that point?

But to Lin Moyu, it was nothing special.

He commanded an army of summons. And with the power of the Primordial Runes, his strength far exceeded that of any other class user.

Take Enhance Troops, for example. When used by other Summoners, it might boost power by a few times at best.

After all, most Summoners only had two or three summons.

But Lin Moyu had an undead army. For him, the boost was beyond imagination.

He was aware that it wasn't the Primordial Rune that transformed his class. It was his class that allowed the Primordial Rune to unleash its true potential.

His class was the foundation. Everything else was just icing on the cake.

"Impossible! This is impossible!"

Tatar roared, swinging his greatsword, fending off the Skeletal Berserk Warriors—but that was all he could do.

Not a single skeleton fell. They just kept attacking relentlessly.

Meanwhile, the Skeletal Great Mages and Skeletal Marksmen unleashed a constant barrage, tormenting him to no end.

Beneath him, the Ironscale Python writhed and cried out, clearly suffering as well.

Tatar was losing control, consumed with rage, desperate to break through and kill Lin Moyu.

But he couldn't.

"How is his health this high?"

Whether Dragonkind or Demons, they all had high attributes, but none could compare to bosses in terms of health.

Tatar had survived far longer than Lin Moyu expected. He thought he would fall almost instantly.

Then a flame flickered in Lin Moyu's hand. Soul Blaze fell silently.

Tatar screamed, nearly dropping his greatsword.

The Ironscale Python trembled, howling in agony.

"So that's it."

"Ancestral bloodlines, aside from a slightly higher attributes, they're nothing special."

Lin Moyu understood now: it wasn't that Tatar's health was unusually high. The Ironscale Python was absorbing most of the damage.

When Soul Blaze hit Tatar, the Ironscale Python suffered too.

Now that he knew, it all made sense.

He just needed to keep up the assault a little longer.