Thoren stepped into the ground floor of the twenty-story building with an expressionless face.
The large reception area was completely deserted, with overturned chairs scattered across the floor and several broken pieces of glass lying near the entrance.
The emergency lights continued to flicker above him, casting the empty floor in an eerie red glow.
He stared at the deserted floor for a moment and there was no sign of the three hooded figures. But Thoren did not need to search for them.
His gaze remained calm as a subtle aura suddenly erupted from his body.
It was not violent.
It did not explode outward with enough force to destroy the building.
Instead, it spread silently, expanding from his body like an invisible tide.
Like a tidal wave, it swept through the building from bottom to top within seconds, passing through walls, floors, rooms, stairways, and corridors.
Everything happened almost instantly.
Every security camera in the building went dark. The small indicator lights on the cameras disappeared.
The monitors in the security room went black.
The building’s surveillance network became completely useless.
With the cameras gone, the hunt could begin.
He withdrew the ordinary undead soldiers into his undead space before reaching into it again and bringing out two more figures.
This time, the two undead were draped in dark robes.
The first was Undead Garron, the enormous undead carrying his massive butcher knife.
Beside him stood Undead Royalty Stonewall, whose massive body seemed even more intimidating with his gleaming black blade in its hand.
The appearance of the two undead immediately changed the atmosphere and the quiet lobby seemed to become colder.
Thoren looked at them.
"Kill!"
The undead Garron’s massive body moved first.
Boom!
His foot struck the ground with tremendous force as he rushed toward the stairway at breathtaking speed.
The undead Royalty Stonewall followed closely behind, his heavy body moving far faster than something of his size should have been capable of.
The two undead disappeared toward the stairwell while Thoren followed them calmly.
He did not rush.
There was no reason for him to.
The three hooded figures had already been marked by the Vorlath Blood Compass, and his perception covered the building.
No matter how many rooms they entered or how many floors they climbed, he could still find them.
The two undead were simply shortening the distance while their footsteps thundered through the stairwell.
The sound traveled through the building, causing dust to fall from the ceiling as they climbed.
Meanwhile, for safety and precaution, the three hooded figures decided to separate. To them, as long as one of them manages to evade Thoren’s persistent pursuit and brings the news back to their leader.
The mission would be considered a success. And then, they might have a chance of rebirth.
On the eighth floor, one of the hooded figures rushed into a bedroom and immediately shut the door behind him.
The room belonged to an aged couple.
The elderly man was sitting beside the bed while his wife stood near the window, both of them trembling as they stared at the stranger who had suddenly broken into their home.
The hooded figure grabbed the elderly woman and pulled her backward.
A dagger appeared in his hand and he pressed its sharp edge against her throat.
"Make a noise and you’re both dead."
His voice was so cold that it made two old couples pale.
The elderly man opened his mouth, but the hooded figure immediately tightened his grip around the woman’s neck.
"Don’t."
The single word was enough.
And instantly, the elderly man slowly closed his mouth.
His hands trembled as he stared at the dagger pressed against his wife’s throat. The hooded figure stood behind the woman, using her body as a shield.
And then, he listened.
Nothing.
The building remained strangely quiet.
No footsteps approached the room and no voices could be heard.
Slowly, the seconds ticked by and his breathing gradually became steadier.
His confidence increased.
Perhaps they were right.
The building really was enough to confuse Thoren.
He glanced toward the door.
Nothing.
Another second passed.
Still nothing.
The hooded figure’s grip loosened slightly and a faint sense of relief entered his mind.
Creak.
Suddenly, the entrance door slowly moved and his entire body froze.
His eyes widened beneath the hood.
’How is this possible?’
’How did he find me?’
Tension and fear gripped his mind like a vice as he stared at the opening door.
A dark figure slowly appeared behind it.
The undead Garron.
Its massive frame stepped into the bedroom without making a sound.
The hooded figure’s heart nearly stopped when he saw it. This was entirely different from the earlier undead they had seen.
Confusion and shock clouded his mind but he managed to suppress it. He immediately pressed the dagger harder against the elderly woman’s throat.
"Don’t come or else I will kill them."
His voice shook despite his attempt to remain calm.
The elderly woman trembled violently as the dagger pressed against her neck. A tiny line of blood appeared beneath the blade.
"Back away!" The hooded figure shouted.
"Do you hear me?"
Undead Garron merely stared at him without moving while the massive butcher knife remained in his hand.
Its hollow socket burns with the eerily soul fire, locked on its prey.
The hooded figure watched the undead carefully and saw it had stopped. For a moment, confusion appeared in his eyes, then it was replaced with a sigh of relief.
’He doesn’t dare move.’ He thought and his confidence returned.
He tightened his grip around the elderly woman and allowed a faint smile to form beneath his hood.
"You understand now." He slowly stepped backward.
"If you come any closer, she dies."
The hooded figure’s smile widened with the thought he had found Thoren’s weakness. At least, that was what he believed.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. A horrifying pressure suddenly descended upon the room.
The hooded figure stiffened.
The pressure was not simply physical.
It invaded his mind.
It pressed against his soul as if it was going to shatter it. His breathing stopped for a moment as his entire body began to tremble uncontrollably.
’What...’
He could not finish the thought when the pressure became heavier.
His fingers weakened around the dagger.
For the first time, he realized that Thoren had never stopped because it feared his threat.
He had stopped because he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment.
Suddenly, the undead Garron disappeared from its spot.
One moment, the undead stood several feet away and it was already in front of him like a phantom.
The hooded figure’s eyes widened in terror.
He barely had time to raise his arm.
"Nooooooooo!"
And then, the massive butcher knife came down on his head.
Swoosh!
***
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