I Became A Zompirewolf

For being someone of much higher civilization, Astaroth always found certain mutations disgusting and troublesome at the same time. One of them being the undead creatures. Disgusting because of the obvious reasons, their rotting smell and awful appearance and troublesome because of their lack of intelligence. They were driven by one thing only... their hunger.

Which made it almost impossible to strike deals with them, unlike the vampires and the werewolves. But the undead creatures that were standing in front of him were different. They were well aware of Astaroth's arrival and yet they did not take a single step towards him.

Instead, they stood frozen. Their eyes locked on the target. Their mouths drool over the possibility of eating something 'fresh' in god knows how long.

"They are being controlled by someone. The question is... are they being controlled by a Revenant, a wraith or a lich?" Astaroth mumbled to himself.

Each of those creatures had its own positives and negatives, not to mention the special characteristic.

If it was a Revenant, then killing these undeads wouldn't matter at all, as they would keep coming back to life again and again unless the soul of the revenant was either pulled out of its body or all of them were killed simultaneously.

But it was easier said than done. If one of them survived for longer than the rest, even by a fraction of a second, all of the efforts of killing them would get wasted. As the surviving undead would inevitably contain the soul of the revenant and bring all of the undead back to 'life' by jumping from one corpse to another. After all, Revenants had the ability to transfer their soul to any undead present around them.

As for Wraiths, they were a bit easier to handle. That is if Astaroth somehow managed to survive their life-draining ability. They also had a ton of immunities and resistance, but thanks to the Ashton brat somehow being able to unlock an admin's [Detection] skill, he would get to know the Wraith's weaknesses by getting to know its strengths.

Finally came the lich... probably the most troublesome of the bunch and a true sorcerer. Not only would Astaroth have to deal with its necromancy skill, but he would also have to be wary of any other magic and traps the lich might possess.

Furthermore, much like a revenant, simply killing the lich wouldn't accomplish anything. The lich would simply find one way or the other to come back to life as they don't have their soul in their body. Instead, one of the undead in their command would usually contain their 'soul'.

The only way to defeat a lich would be by killing the one having the soul and then destroying the Lich. The task might seem simple, but there was nothing more complex than a magician who abandoned its kind in search of immortality.

"No matter what creature it is, this brat was fucked if I didn't take the steering wheel on time." Astaroth sighed and took a step inside.

As soon as he did that, a voice erupted through the darkness, "Who dares to cometh with foul greed for me own treasure?" (Author's note: The creature is speaking in old English. The mistakes are not a typo.)

The words boomed inside the ancient-looking corridor as if dozens of speakers were narrating the same thing simultaneously. The undead heard the voice and immediately went down on their knees, greeting their long-forgotten king.

"Who else? It's your daddy. Open up and be a sweet boy and allow me a passage- Son of a bitch... it just had to be something worse than I expected, didn't it?" Astaroth immediately assumed a defensive stance only to find it meaningless moments later.

Since he was only inside the third corridor, he had assumed the creature would either have to be a Revenant, a Wraith or a Lich. How could he have known that a creature far worse than all of those three combined would be sitting on a gigantic throne in front of him?

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<Error!>

The Creature's level is too high for the user to view any detail.

The Host is advised to escape with utmost urgency.

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'Admin Override. Authentication code: 22b3c.' Astaroth mumbled absentmindedly and the details emerged in front of his eyes, 'I already know that creature is well over this bastard's paygrade.'

He already knew what the creature sitting in front of him was but was hoping to be proven wrong. Sadly, that wasn't the case. His worst fears had turned into reality. With Ashton's current state of levels... it was safe to say... Astaroth was about to die for the second time.

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Name: Forgotten

Species: Zombie (Active), Human (Deceased).

Status: Arch Lich

Class: Necromancer

Title: [Heir Of The Eastern Palace], [Forgotten One], [Infatuated With Death]

Age: Unknown

Gender: None

Grade: D-tier (Evolution is no longer possible to conventional methods)

Affiliation: None

Level: 87 (Extremely Dangerous)

Stats:

HP: 50,000/50,000

Mana: 100,000/100,000

Damage: 167

Armour: 321

Stealth: 109

Stamina: 69

Agility: 98

Intelligence: 420

Nature:

• Bored

• Knowledgeable

• Political smartness

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"Mortals... as always are foolish." The crown-wearing skeleton smiled as Astaroth began panicking, "Do not be afraid. I take no pleasure in killing anymore. I have had my fill. It's the lasteth thing on me own mind. I, however, do find myself taking pleasure in conversing with a creature having a brain for once."

Defeating him? Hell, it would be nothing less than a miracle if Astaroth was even able to scratch the bastard's frail robe. There was a time when creatures like the Arch Lich were nothing more than insects for Astaroth. But now, he was scared to fight one head-on.

Astaroth's gaze turned towards the undead around the Lich, and sure enough... even a single undead was much stronger than any other creature on the planet. At least according to the standard Ashton was aware of. At such a moment there was only one thing Astaroth could do.

"I humbly greet the mighty heir of the Eastern Palace, the great Arch Lich." Astaroth immediately went on his knees, just like the rest of the undead.

He hated every moment of it, but there was nothing much he could have done. The Lich's spit was enough to turn the brat into jelly. How could he dare offend a being like that?