Chapter 109: Against a Level 16 Samurai.

“Why do you attack me?” Thoren asked, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

“Hahaha!”

The only woman among the group threw her head back and laughed without the slightest concern for her image.

The four men beside her did not join in, but sneers tugged at the corners of their mouths, their gazes filled with mockery and disdain.

“You’ve offended many powerful people,” she said, her laughter tapering into a sharp sneer. “Did you truly expect there to be no retaliation?”

As she spoke, her playful expression slowly hardened. Her eyes narrowed, gleaming with killing intent. “Today, you will pay for your sins…with your life.”

The space around them trembled faintly, as if responding to her words.

The tension in the narrow mountain passage thickened, heavy enough to suffocate. The five awakeners stared at Thoren as though he were already a corpse lying at their feet.

Each of the four men radiated the aura of a Level 16 awakener, while the woman’s presence teetered dangerously close to Level 17.

Against such a lineup, how could Thoren possibly stand a chance?

They had read the reports. They knew he commanded powerful undead servants.

But so what?

That was precisely why there were five of them.

If Thoren were weak, a single one of them would have sufficed.

To ensure absolute certainty, they had chosen to strike together, to eliminate the problem before it could grow any further.

Thoren looked at them calmly. The tension in his body gradually eased, and a faint sneer tugged at his lips. Now, he could guess where they came from.

Either the Federation… or the Slave Trade Guild.

From the records he had gathered, the base in town was nothing more than an outpost.

Their true leader resided deep within the uncharted territories. Judging by the strength of the five before him, his suspicion was all but confirmed.

“You want me to pay for my sins?” Thoren said slowly, his sneer deepening. “Who are you to decide what my sins are?”

Disgust churned in his chest.

These people exploited weaker awakeners for their own perverse and vile purposes, trampling countless lives beneath their feet and yet they dared to stand before him and speak of sin?

Did they truly believe he was as helpless as the awakeners they had crushed in the past?

Originally, Thoren had planned to deal with them after everything else was settled.

But now that they had delivered themselves to his doorstep…

He folded his arms across his chest and looked at them with open contempt. “Why don’t you come and try?”

For a brief moment, the five were stunned into silence.

Then their expressions twisted with fury.

“I am a Level 16 Samurai,” one of the men shouted as he stepped forward, his killing intent surging.

“The one who will kill you. Remember that in your afterlife.”

With a sharp metallic sound, he unsheathed his longsword.

The air shifted instantly.

It was as if the narrow mountain path itself had become filled with invisible blades. A chilling sharpness pressed against Thoren’s skin.

Yet Thoren’s expression did not change.

He watched calmly as the Samurai burst forward, his movements swift and decisive.

“Atlas Edge Strike,” the Samurai muttered, raising his sword high before bringing it down in a powerful arc.

A terrifying blade of sword light tore through the air, screaming toward Thoren.

Without hesitation, Thoren issued a mental command.

Two Level 16 undead stepped forward in perfect sync, raising their massive shields.

The Samurai sneered. How could mere shields stop my attack?

Whoosh!

Bang!

The sword light slammed into the shields with a deafening explosion. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending dust and debris cascading down the mountain walls.

The Samurai and his companions watched intently, waiting for the shields to shatter.

But nothing happened.

Aside from faint sparks dancing across the shield’s surface, the undead remained unmoved.

“What?!” The Samurai’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Thoren sneered.

Just as the Samurai was Level 16, so were his undead. And unlike living beings, they felt no pain, no fear, and no hesitation.

’Kill.’

The mental command echoed silently.

Before the Samurai could react, the two undead lunged forward, crossing the distance in a blink. One wielded a sword, the other a massive hammer.

“Get lost!” the Samurai roared, humiliation and fury burning through him.

“Silent Wind Cut!”

His blade moved faster than the naked eye could follow, slicing through the air in a deadly arc.

But nothing escaped Thoren’s perception.

’Shield.’

The undead reacted instantly.

Bang!

One undead blocked the strike while the second swung its hammer forward.

Everything had been calculated.

“No—!”

The Samurai screamed as every hair on his body stood on end. He twisted his body desperately, barely managing to raise his guard.

Bang!

The hammer struck.

The impact felt like an entire mountain crashing into him. The force surged through his organs and nerves, violently displacing everything inside his body.

“Ahhhh!”

A soul-rending scream tore from his throat as he was sent flying. His vision blurred as his internal organs shifted violently.

He slammed into the mountain wall with a sickening crack. The sound of bones shattering echoed through the narrow passage.

Blood sprayed from his mouth.

His right arm twisted at an unnatural angle, flesh mangled beyond recognition. His longsword spun helplessly through the air, vanishing into the distance.

Thoren was not surprised.

This was the true power of a hammer, to crush everything in its path.

Without hesitation, he commanded the undead to finish the job.

The remaining four awakeners snapped out of their shock.

“You dare!” the woman screamed, rage distorting her beautiful face as she raised her staff.

“Inferno Searing Rain!”

The sky above them ignited.

Countless streams of fire poured down like a blazing storm, turning the narrow path into a hellscape of flames and heat.

Terrifying.

Dreadful.

But her enemy was Thoren.

Thoren looked up at the descending fire with nothing but contempt. As a necromancer, neither he nor his undead feared fire.

The flames were fierce, but they posed no real threat.

One undead charged forward, raising its shield to protect its head while gripping its hammer tightly.

“Stop him!” the woman cried, her voice trembling as she watched the undead charge through the inferno.

The wounded Samurai, barely clinging to consciousness, trying desperately to open his healing potion.

Then he felt it.

An overwhelming presence loomed over him.

“No. no. noooooooo!” he screamed in terror.

The undead servant’s hollow eyes burned with necromantic soul fire. For a brief moment, its expression shifted, filled with cold cruelty.

The hammer descended like divine judgment.

Boom!

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