with their own skills. The mercenaries Brutols had assembled were like indestructible cockroaches, having survived countless grim missions and emerging alive.

“We need more people. Is this really enough?” The fat man with the beer-belly grumbled. He clearly doubted Brutols' judgment. Unbeknownst to him, each of these mercenaries could easily gut him without breaking a sweat. Brutols didn’t bother arguing with him and simply let him sulk at the bar. With the imminent battle looming, Brutols had no mind for drinking, as alcohol would dull his senses. He needed to keep his mind sharp.

“Brutols, we have enough manpower. When can we battle those necromancers?” One of the eager mercenaries asked, bristling with excitement. Brutols shook his head and replied calmly, “The enemies are cunning. We'll wait for their attack, but I can assure you, it won’t be long now.”

Brutols understood that this battle was unavoidable. Though he was a peace-loving individual, akin to a model student in today’s world, there were times one must be ruthless. The necromancers could be planning to massacre the entire city and turn its inhabitants into undead, a possibility Brutols was all too aware of. Unlike his world, where order prevailed, anything could happen in this one. The necromancers were heartless psychopaths who would have been locked up long ago in his world but roamed freely here, posing a significant threat to any governing authority.

But Brutols was undeterred by these evil forces. An emblem of justice must never cower. If he succumbed to fear now, he couldn’t be called a beacon of righteousness. Besides, even the most powerful necromancers would struggle to directly assault a city. Brutols had assembled a formidable group of elite mercenaries, not easily bested. On the necromancers' side, they weren’t planning to win easily either; they were developing a sinister new drug. This drug wouldn’t cure diseases but corrupt the brain, turning people into monsters while retaining their human appearance.

The necromancers had allocated vast resources to develop this drug, which explained why Brutols had managed to infiltrate the chapel. The chapel was a key teleportation point for their prisoners. They aimed to annihilate any invaders, unaware of Brutols' superior might. Powerhouses like Brutols were rare, but so were brave souls like him. The necromancers underestimated the trouble they had stirred by provoking Brutols, who wouldn’t rest until they were eradicated.

Brutols equipped his mercenaries with excellent armor, weapons, and a stockpile of magical scrolls he had looted from a mage’s tower. While these scrolls weren’t particularly useful to Brutols himself, they significantly boosted the mercenaries’ combat effectiveness. These scrolls allowed them to cast prote

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