"Charge!"
At Hel's command, thirteen skeletal heavy cavalry shot forward like arrows, crashing into the enemy formation. The massive beasts in the front ranks—though towering and muscular—were still crushed under the knights' charge.
Under Hel's deliberate control, the riders avoided the heavily defended central area, instead circling the perimeter, swiftly cutting down the weaker Tier 3 beasts.
At the same time, Hel drew out five Blood Crystals engraved with strange demonic runes and handed them to the remaining five skeletal riders.
Receiving the crystals, the riders galloped away, disappearing into the ruins around them in the blink of an eye.
Hel's side had eighteen Tier 4 units, while the enemy had only seven left. If she wanted to fight head-on, she could win—though it would come at a cost.
But that wasn't what she wanted.
Her forces were already limited, and after this long, brutal battle, losing even a few more would hurt badly.
After all, the enemy's prized mecha units had already been smashed into scrap metal by her undead troops. If she fought recklessly now, the outcome would be the same—a pile of broken parts for her trouble.
No, she needed a way to win without losses—though it would take a bit of time to prepare.
And so, she waited.
From the distance came the rumbling of explosions, echoing every so often—proof that the three Tier 5 combatants were still locked in fierce battle.
Meanwhile, her skeletal cavalry had already charged more than ten times, tearing the enemy's formation apart.
The outer ring of lesser beasts lay dead or dying. Only a few Tier 3 monsters remained, cowering near the core defensive line. If not for Hel's restraint, even they would have been annihilated by now.
Finally, the five skeletal riders she had sent off earlier returned.
Seeing this, Hel's lips curled into a faint smile.
"The show's about to begin," she murmured. "Then…"
A vast, intricate magic circle unfurled beneath the Flame Adjudicator's feet.
The moment it appeared, five more identical circles lit up across the battlefield, arranged in a star-like formation around her.
The six circles pulsed in resonance.
All around, the spilled blood began to writhe and crawl, tracing glowing trails across the ground—as if an unseen hand were guiding it.
From above, one could see that the entire plaza had become a single colossal array, with Hel at its center. Each of the five outer points corresponded to the earlier Blood Crystals she had distributed.
"Now then," she said softly, "let me show you the final act."
Hel bowed slightly toward the surviving enemies, then spoke the name of her ultimate spell:
[Supreme Death Magic: Land Transmutation Array (Pseudo)]
In an instant, crimson light burst from the array. The remaining flesh and blood on the ground was devoured by the spell—consumed in an endless, gluttonous hunger.
But it wasn't enough.
Drawn by the array's power, the corpses of the fallen beasts began to gush forth torrents of blood, streaming across the battlefield like rivers toward the glowing lines, until every drop was absorbed.
The crimson light grew brighter and brighter, pulsing with threads of deathly energy.
At last, the array was complete.
From within the light, countless translucent tendrils erupted from the ground—sprouting wildly, spreading in every direction like ghostly vines.
They waved softly in the air, eerily still… like tall grass swaying in a nonexistent breeze.
But within the enemy's central formation, where the light mecha and their pilots huddled, chaos erupted.
The tendrils lashed out, wrapping around every living creature—beast or goblin, armored or not.
They ignored all barriers—passing effortlessly through thick scales and enchanted armor alike—then, with ghostly precision, pulled from within each victim a faintly glowing blue orb.
Anyone who understood magic would recognize it instantly.
It was their soul.
The true purpose of the Land Transmutation Array was revealed:
to extract souls and refine them into Philosopher's Stones.
The original version of the spell could consume entire nations, turning all living beings within its borders into Philosopher's Stones.
Hel's version, of course, was a miniature imitation—a compact, "portable" version of the forbidden art.
Even so, it still reached the realm of top-tier magic.
It was only through the aid of an existing Philosopher's Stone that Hel managed to cast it at all—draining her skeletal vessel of every drop of mana and even putting her in magical debt to the stone itself.
But the results were spectacular.
In a single move, the entire enemy force was annihilated.
Now, only the heavy mecha remained.
Hel opened the golden hatch atop her head, gazing toward the residential ruins in the distance.
The battle there still raged—explosions echoed, and smoke curled into the sky.
Even now, no victor had emerged.
That wasn't surprising. The Skeletal Berserker Commander's raw strength was inferior to the heavy mecha's; lasting this long alongside the Snow Elf Queen was already impressive.
And Hel's original command had been to stall, not to kill.
The Land Transmutation Array was always meant to be the real killing blow.
Now that it had done its work, it was time to serve the day's main course.
"Activate the Soul-Burning Secret Art."
At her command, blue flames burst from every bone of the Skeletal Berserker Commander's body—
not the cold, flickering hue of ordinary soul-fire,
but a deeper, hotter azure blaze.
It was the fire born from burning one's own soul.
In an instant, the commander's speed doubled. It lunged at the heavy mecha, swinging its blade.
A black-and-blue arc of energy tore through the air—far deadlier than any strike it had released before.
The mecha tried to raise its blade to block, but this time was different.
When the two attacks collided, the dark blade sliced through effortlessly—
shattering the mecha's energy slash,
splitting its mithril greatsword in two,
and continuing its path forward.
The black arc didn't stop—it cleaved straight through the mecha's waist.
The machine's upper half began to slide off, sparks and fire spilling from its torn body.
Desperate, the mecha swung its broken sword in one final strike—
but the berserker simply tilted its head aside, dodging with ease,
then swung once more.
With a single clean motion, both of the mecha's massive arms fell to the ground.
And with that—the battle was over.