The battle on the ancient staircase had become increasingly dangerous.
The narrow staircase that led toward the top of the tower had become a natural bottleneck, forcing Thoren and his undead to fight within a confined space.
Although having a large undead army was normally one of his greatest advantages, the current battlefield had turned that advantage into something almost useless.
His undead soldiers were packed tightly together.
There was simply not enough room.
The undead General stood at the front, its massive saber continuously swinging from one side to another as it desperately tried to hold back the resurrected members.
But the enemies refused to remain dead.
Every time one fell, another stepped over its corpse.
Every time a body was cut apart, the scattered pieces crawled back together.
Every time Thoren thought one had finally been eliminated, that same enemy returned with an even stronger aura.
Clang!
The undead General blocked another attack, and the force of the collision pushed its enormous body backward.
Another enemy immediately stepped forward.
Whoosh!
The undead Guild Captain had already been pushed several steps down the staircase, his broadsword repeatedly cutting apart enemies who simply refused to remain dead.
Even the undead Storm Tyrant, whose overwhelming power had once been enough to crush almost everything in its path, was struggling to maintain its position.
Thoren’s expression remained cold as he watched his undead suffer one after another, but deep inside, the foreboding feeling that had been following him since he entered the endless bone field was becoming stronger with every passing second.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
His gaze briefly shifted toward the top of the tower. And whatever was happening there was clearly connected to the resurrection of these people.
’Something is about to happen.’ The thought surfaced in his mind.
Thoren did not hesitate as he summoned one of the big guns. He had reserved it for the battle with the Holy Son but now with the situation getting out of hand.
He dare not delay.
Whoosh!
Undead energy erupted beside him and a massive figure appeared.
The undead Horn Lizard King.
The Peak Grade Bronze Cudgel rested heavily in its hand as its enormous body appeared on the staircase.
For a brief moment, the resurrected members surrounding the undead froze.
Then the undead Horn Lizard King moved.
Boom!
Its cudgel smashed into the first group of enemies.
Several bodies were sent flying simultaneously, crashing into the stone walls with enough force to leave deep cracks.
The undead Horn Lizard King took another step.
Boom!
The massive cudgel swept across the staircase.
Bodies were crushed.
Bones shattered.
Blood sprayed across the narrow passage.
The resurrected members were forced backward for the first time since the battle began.
The undead General immediately seized the opportunity.
Whoosh!
Its massive saber swept forward while the undead Storm Tyrant followed.
BOOM!
In an instant, the formation that had been struggling earlier suddenly regained its momentum. The addition of the undead Horn Lizard King had completely changed the battlefield.
"Move!"
Thoren did not waste the opportunity.
He rushed forward.
His undead formed a wall behind him, desperately holding back the resurrected members as he climbed the staircase toward the top of the tower.
The Horn Lizard King remained at the forefront, its cudgel continuously smashing apart everything that attempted to block their path.
Thoren moved quickly.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
The further he climbed, the stronger the strange pressure became. And with every step, the foreboding feeling inside his heart became almost unbearable.
With the undead Horn Lizard King clearing the way, Thoren quickly arrived at the top, his heart pounding heavily against his chest, panicking.
At the top of the tower, the black flame had changed.
It was no longer simply burning.
It had grown.
The flame had expanded into an enormous mass of black and crimson fire, twisting violently in the center of the ritual formation.
But that was not what shocked Thoren.
Long tendrils had emerged from the flame.
They looked like roots.
They were dark crimson and covered in strange glowing patterns, and each one moved slowly through the air before boring directly into the bodies of the Holy Son and the upper echelon of the Slave Trade Guild.
One tendril pierced through the Holy Son’s chest.
Another entered his shoulder.
Several more had penetrated the bodies of the other guild members and yet none of them screamed.
Instead, they continued chanting.
"Ancient Mother..."
"Womb of all things..."
"Grant us salvation..."
"Grant us nirvana..."
Their voices remained filled with reverence and their faces were filled with fanaticism.
With the Holy Son at the center. His long brown hair cascaded down his back while the black tendrils continued penetrating his body.
His eyes remained closed while his lips continued moving.
"Mother..."
"Return us..."
"Grant us salvation..."
The tendrils pulsed.
Thump.
The Holy Son’s body trembled.
Thump.
His flesh began changing as his skin slowly became translucent. The flesh around his arms began dissolving into tiny motes of black and crimson light.
Yet he continued chanting.
The same thing was happening to the other members of the upper echelon.
Their bodies slowly dissolved from the extremities inward, turning into countless tiny motes of flame that floated around the black flame, where they were slowly absorbed.
Some had already lost their arms.
Others had their legs disappear.
One person’s entire lower body had already become nothing but flickering motes of crimson light.
Yet every single one of them maintained that fanatical expression.
As the Holy Son’s body continued dissolving, the strange smile remained on his lips. Suddenly, his eyes flew open.
For the first time, the Holy Son looked directly at Thoren.
There was no fear in those eyes.
There was no anger.
Only an eerie calmness.
Thoren’s heart tightened as the foreboding feeling reached its peak.
’I need to stop this now!’
"Kill!" He roared.
The undead Horn Lizard King charged forward, raising its cudgel above its head, ready to dismantle everything.
As if sensing the terror of the undead Horn Lizard King, the black, crimson blame grew stronger and the tendrils like root multiplied hundreds in a second.
The tendrils wrapped around the Holy Son and the guild upper echelon like a second skin. Just as the undead Horn Lizard King arrived, bring its weapon downward.
Something impossible happened.
***
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