The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Chapter 183: The Marching Force

"Forward," I commanded, and the undead goblin king lumbered ahead, smashing through the abominations with brutal efficiency. Its rotting club crashed down, scattering twisted limbs and broken bodies like debris.

I kept my hands idle at my sides, watching the battle unfold before me. My pens hovered in the air, each of them moving with precise purpose under my control. The fire pen blazed with a fierce orange flame, darting forward and igniting the nearest goblins with an angry hiss. They screeched as they were consumed, their blackened forms collapsing to the ground in heaps of ash.

I didn't flinch as the stench of burning flesh filled the air.

To my left, more dungeon monsters began to emerge from the shadows—hulking trolls with their brutish fists raised high, and minotaurs, their eyes gleaming with malice. They charged toward us, their steps shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The chaos grew, but I remained unshaken.

The water pen spun in a graceful arc, the runes carved into its sleek form glowing a cool blue. With a thought, I commanded it to unleash a torrent of icy magic, freezing a pack of goblins mid-leap. Their bodies stiffened in midair, suspended for a heartbeat before they shattered into brittle pieces upon the stone floor. The sound was satisfying in its finality.

My psychokinesis pen streaked forward next, sharp and deadly. It sliced through the air like a blade, the force of its movement enough to tear goblins apart before they even realized they were being targeted. Blood splattered the walls, but the pen never slowed. Another flick of my thoughts, and it veered toward a minotaur, embedding itself between its eyes.

The creature's roar of fury was cut short as the pen spun, twisting deeper into its skull before pulling free with a sickening crack. The minotaur collapsed, its massive body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

All the while, the hobgoblin devil servant was wreaking havoc, its fiery limbs leaving trails of dark flame in its wake as it tore into the abominations with a savage glee. Its claws ripped through flesh and bone with ease, and its devilish laugh echoed through the chamber as it reveled in the carnage.

It moved like a shadow, one moment here, the next there, a blur of destruction that left nothing in its path standing.

Sylara's chimeras roared as they charged alongside the hobgoblin devil servant. The lion-headed chimera's fiery breath seared the air, reducing a line of goblins to ash in an instant.

The serpent chimera struck with deadly precision, its venomous fangs sinking into the neck of a troll, paralyzing it in seconds before the dragon-headed chimera unleashed a bolt of lightning that sent the creature convulsing, its death both swift and violent.

Amid the chaos, I remained still, watching everything with a detached interest. My mind was a battlefield of calculations, assessing the situation with cold precision. Every creature that fell was a threat neutralized. Every movement I made was deliberate, efficient.

"Keep moving," I ordered, my voice cutting through the sounds of the battle. "We're close."

More abominations surged toward us, goblins shrieking as they charged with crude weapons raised. I sent the fire pen hurtling into their midst, releasing a controlled explosion of flame. The goblins disintegrated in a blaze of heat, their weapons clattering to the ground, useless.

The troll that followed didn't fare much better as my devil pen unleashed a dark tendril of magic, wrapping around its throat and squeezing until the light faded from its eyes. I felt no satisfaction, only the calm certainty that another obstacle had been removed.

The undead goblin king let out a guttural snarl as it swung its club once more, crushing a minotaur's skull with a sickening crack. Blood splattered the stones beneath its feet, and it roared in triumph, an echo of my own relentless drive. There was no stopping us now.

I could feel the dark energy weakening as we pressed on, the corruption on this level faltering under our assault. But as the last of the monsters fell, I paused, my gaze shifting upwards. Something was wrong.

The pulsating mass before us flickered, its glow dimming, but it wasn't the end. The corruption was merely fractured, not destroyed.

"There's more," I muttered, my eyes narrowing as I focused on the faint, ominous pull that seemed to beckon from above. "Upstairs."

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Sylara's eyes flicked toward me, her bow already drawn. "More of this?" she asked, wiping blood from her cheek.

I nodded. "The source is higher. This was just a fragment."

As we prepared to ascend, Alfred stepped forward, his voice calm and measured as always. "What if I check the path alone, my lord? I can clear the way quietly."

I glanced at him, my expression cold. "No need, Alfred. We've already sacrificed enough. There's no need for more." I shifted my gaze to the minotaur that lay twitching at the edge of the battlefield, still barely clinging to life.

I raised the devil pen, and dark tendrils of energy coiled around the creature, seeping into its flesh. The minotaur's body spasmed violently, its eyes wide with terror as it felt the dark magic overtaking it. Slowly, the terror faded, replaced by a hollow obedience as the dark magic remade it into something far more dangerous.

The minotaur's body twisted and contorted, its muscles bulging as the last vestiges of its will were stripped away. When it finally rose, it kneeled before me, a new devil servant bound to my will.

"Clear the way," I commanded, my voice cold and final.

The minotaur devil servant obeyed without hesitation, charging ahead with a bellow that shook the walls. It smashed through the debris and creatures that stood in its path, its hulking form cutting a swath of destruction as it led us toward the next level.

Beside me, Alfred moved with the deadly grace of a predator. His knives gleamed as he slipped through the shadows, silent and lethal. A goblin that had evaded the main fight never even saw him coming. One moment it stood, weapon raised, the next its throat was cut, blood spilling in a fine arc as Alfred moved on to the next target without a second glance.

His strikes were quick, precise, never more than necessary.

Garren, the captain of the Drakhan knights, was a force of controlled power. His sword flashed in the dim light as he fought with disciplined precision, every swing calculated to kill. He parried a troll's club with ease, stepping inside its guard and driving his blade deep into its chest.

The creature let out a low groan as it collapsed, and Garren stepped over its body without breaking stride, moving to intercept the next foe with the same practiced efficiency.

Sylara fought with a different kind of finesse, her movements fluid and swift. Her bowstring sang as she loosed arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark with unerring accuracy. When a goblin got too close, she switched seamlessly to her knife, slashing its throat in one smooth motion before turning back to fire an arrow into the eye of a charging minotaur.

Her chimeras, still raging in the distance, tore through the remaining abominations with reckless abandon.

The path ahead cleared quickly under our relentless assault. The minotaur devil servant smashed through the last of the barricades, its heavy breaths echoing through the now-silent corridor.

Without pausing, I moved forward, my pens hovering at my side like obedient soldiers. The battle was far from over, but as long as I had control, there was no doubt in my mind.

We would destroy whatever remained of the corruption. One level at a time, if necessary.

And when the tower was cleansed, those who had allowed it to fall into darkness would answer for their failures.

But for now, all that mattered was the battle ahead.