SSS Ranked Dragon King: My Innate Ability is Unbelievable.

Chapter 256 256: There's no safe heaven for you lot.

What truly terrified him the most, however, was the range and the efficiency of the magic being displayed.

This winged man didn't even need to move from his spot in the sky to replenish his forces; he simply watched from above while his power reached down into the dirt and snatched the souls of the fallen, turning his enemies into his most loyal servants before their blood had even finished cooling on the ground.

"All he has to do is remain there in the sky, out of reach, and we wouldn't even be able to do anything to him!" Henry's eyes began to tremble along with the rest of his body.

He realized with a sinking feeling that they were trapped in a loop of death; every soldier they lost became a new recruit for the enemy, and every blow they struck against the zombies was a waste of energy while the master remained untouched in the heavens.

He knew that the only way to take down a necromancer's horde was to take out the necromancer himself. If they merely continued to attack these useless, replaceable creatures, they would only be prolonging their own inevitable demise, dancing to the tune of a conductor who was safe from their swords.

"Sire, I'm afraid if we let this continue much longer, our forces will be completely overwhelmed without even being able to mount a proper counterattack," Sir Godfrey whispered, stepping up beside Henry.

The knight's voice was uncharacteristically low, and even through the heavy plate of his helmet, Henry could sense the grim realization settling over his commander.

"We are being bled dry, and the men are on the verge of a total rout. We cannot win a war of attrition against an enemy that recycles our own dead."

"I know that, Godfrey! I can see it as well as you can!" Henry snapped, though his voice lacked any true bite. "But what do you propose we do? It's obvious this bastard is a cautious one. He's staying exactly where our arrows can't reach him and where our magic is too thin to strike with any real force."

Henry chewed on his lip, his mind racing through every tactic and strategic maneuver he had ever been taught, though none of them seemed to apply to a man with dragon wings who seemed to have absolute dominion over the dead.

' If we intend to win this battle and get out of here with our lives, we need to find a way to get him to come down here.' Henry thought to himself, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at the silent observer.

' if we aren't able to do that much, we are all going to end up as mindless puppets.'

The nobleman gripped his sword hilt, his knuckles turning white as he tried to come up with some way to bait the winged fiend into the reach of his men, knowing all too well that the window of opportunity was closing with every fresh corpse that rose from the mud.

The battle had reached it's peak as both sides fought it out. Sadly, the Montgomery soldiers lost hopeless, being pushed back further and further with each second.

Across the splintered remains of the village square, the Montgomery archers attempted to regain some semblance of control, their fingers trembling as they reached into nearly empty quivers.

The wood of their bows groaned under the strain of a thousand frantic draws.

"Fire the arrows! Aim for the center of the enemy force and fire!" a leading soldier hollered, his voice burning from screaming orders over the relentless moaning of the horde.

He swung his arm forward in a desperate arc, signaling his men to release their payload.

Following his lead, the soldiers loosed a heavy volley that hissed through the air like a swarm of angry hornets.

The arrows rained down without remorse, thudding into the chests, shoulders, and heads of the advancing dead.

From a distance, it looked as though the attack had been successful; many of the zombies were knocked backward by the sheer kinetic force of the impact, while others were so riddled with shafts that they resembled walking porcupines.

However, the satisfaction of the hit lasted only a heartbeat.

The creatures did not stumble for long; they simply stood back up, the arrows protruding from their lifeless bodies as if they were nothing more than minor decorations.

A skeleton with a shattered ribcage and three arrows through its skull continued to march forward, its jaw clicking continuously as it closed the distance.

Besides knocking down a few and making a small deal of them look ridiculous, the volley did nothing at all to slow the tide.

Seeing this filled the remaining knights with a profound sense of vexation and helplessness.

They were men of iron and honor, trained to fight enemies that bled and felt pain, yet they were being dismantled by a force that ignored the very concept of mortality.

Some of the more experienced knights shifted their gaze upward, glaring with pure, unadulterated hatred at the winged figure who remained suspended in the sky.

They gripped the hilts of their claymores so tightly that their gauntlets creaked, yet they were painfully aware that they could do absolutely nothing to reach him.

As long as he remained in the heavens, they were merely ants being crushed beneath his heel.

forced back step by agonizing step as the undead continued to push them toward the center of the village.

Henry stood at the heart of his crumbling camp, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as he watched the carnage unfold.

He had arrived at this border with dreams of conquest, hoping to create a legacy written in the blood of his enemies, but now he was watching his men fight valiantly for a cause that was already lost.

His second and third lines of defense, which he had assumed would be impenetrable, were crumbling under the weight of the endless horde.