Chapter 117: The Beast Tide.

Walking through the forest, Thoren’s undead servants slaughtered every beast that crossed their path.

Blood stained the ground, and broken bodies were left behind wherever they passed.

Despite the continuous killing, his experience points barely moved.

Only beasts above Level 15 could noticeably increase his experience.

Anything below that merely added a negligible drop to his experience bar, hardly worth mentioning.

After traveling for more than half an hour, Thoren finally emerged from the forest.

Beyond the tree line lay a basin.

It was vast and bowl-shaped, carved deeply into blackened earth as though a colossal hand had pressed it down from above.

The ground was cracked like shattered glass, fractures spreading in every direction from years of relentless heat.

Beneath the surface, faint veins of molten rock glowed dimly, pulsing like the veins of a living creature.

Ash drifted endlessly through the air, settling on jagged stones and half-melted hills.

Each breath carried the scent of sulfur and scorched earth. Along the basin’s rim, charred trees stood petrified in place, their trunks twisted and hollow, branches reduced to skeletal remains.

Waves of heat distorted the air above the ground, warping the landscape and making distant objects shimmer unnaturally.

Looking at the strange and hostile terrain, Thoren was not surprised.

The uncharted territories of the first floor were filled with countless mysteries and dangers.

This basin was simply another reminder of how alien this world truly was.

With a silent mental command, the Undead Mad Dog Mistvail strode forward.. Behind it followed six Level 16 undead servants.

The rising temperature did not deter them in the slightest. Their undead bodies felt no fatigue, no pain, and no discomfort as they continued deeper into the basin.

Thoren had two clear objectives.

The first was to increase his strength as quickly as possible.

The second was to visit the hideout of the Slave Trade Guild and the Federation Police.

Although he did not fear them with his current strength, He was not reckless. He had no intention of gambling his life in a desperate battle.

He preferred certainty, winning battles fought on his own terms rather than risking everything in unnecessary confrontation.

From his previous battles, he had clearly seen the difference between a Level 15 and a Level 16 Awakener.

Crossing into Level 16 meant entering the final threshold of the first floor.

At that level, even a single step forward brought massive changes in power. Attributes increased significantly, abilities evolved, and combat potential rose sharply.

Because of that, he chose to be cautious.

To ensure his safety and dominance, he decided to expand his undead legion further before confronting powerful organizations.

Thoren and his undead had barely traveled halfway into the basin when the ground beneath them began to tremble.

The vibrations were subtle at first, like distant footsteps.

Then they intensified.

“What is going on?” Thoren muttered to himself.

“Is this an earthquake… or something else?”

His brows creased as he slowed his steps, scanning the surroundings carefully.

From the distance, thick columns of smoke rose into the sky, blotting out what little light filtered through the ash-filled atmosphere.

The tremors grew stronger with each passing second, shaking loose fragments of stone from the cracked ground.

From several fissures, molten lava seeped out, glowing orange and red as it oozed slowly across the surface. With every moment, the tension in the air increased.

Without hesitation, Thoren summoned one hundred undead servants from his undead space.

They appeared instantly, their forms materializing in a tight formation before him. Skeleton warriors, armored undead,, awaiting his command.

Slowly, from within the thick smoke, shapes began to emerge.

Massive silhouettes.

Beasts.

Hundreds of them.

Thoren narrowed his eyes, his expression turning grim. Instantly, he began issuing mental commands to his undead legion.

He divided the one hundred undead servants into smaller squads, each led by a Level 16 undead commander.

Their formation shifted smoothly, every unit taking its position with flawless coordination.

“A beast tide…” Thoren murmured, his voice heavy with seriousness. “What could have caused this?”

The primary mission of every Awakener was to eradicate beasts on each floor. This was done to prevent the creatures from growing too numerous and powerful.

When a beast population reached a certain threshold, the Abyss would allow them to breach into Earth.

That was why every human settlement, guild, and federation devoted immense resources to constant hunting. Beasts were meant to be culled relentlessly.

Because of this, beast tides were exceedingly rare.

But now…

Thoren took a deep breath as he focused on the incoming monsters, information windows flashing rapidly before his eyes.

[Ironmaw]

[Level: 15]

[Attributes: Strength 28, Constitution 30, Agility 15, Spirit 2]

[Trait (1): Steel Bite – Ignores 10% enemy defense]

[Trait(2): Juggernaut Frame– Immune to knockback effect]

[Flame Reaver]

[Level: 16]

[Attributes: Strength 30, Constitution 24, Agility 34, Spirit 2, Defense 16]

[Trait (1): Flame Slip – Increased evasion in fire zones.]

[Trait (2): Backstab Instinct – Deals bonus damage from behind.]

[Stoneback Basilisk]

[Attributes: Strength 28, Constitution 36, Agility 22, Spirit 2, Defense 26]

[Trait (1): Petrifying Gaze – Chance to slow enemies.]

[Trait (2): Granite Scales – High resistance to physical damage]

Each beast was more formidable than the last.

Their enormous bodies, thick hides, and ferocious eyes radiated raw aggression. The oppressive aura alone was enough to make ordinary Awakeners panic and flee.

Thoren quickly assessed their numbers. Dozens were Level 14, but the majority were Level 15 and Level 16 beasts.

Compared to them, his undead legion looked small.

Yet Thoren felt no fear.

No hesitation.

Instead, his eyes burned with madness and anticipation.

He had been wondering how to grow stronger at an accelerated pace.

And now, the opportunity stood right before him.

Although the upcoming battle would be dangerous, and even a single mistake could lead to his death, none of that troubled him.

“There is no gain without risk,” he muttered.

He retrieved a longsword from his inventory, its dark blade gleaming faintly under the distorted light. Gripping it firmly, he raised the weapon and pointed it toward the incoming beast tide.

With a single mental command, he ordered:

“Kill.”

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The ground shook violently as both sides charged toward one another. Cracks spread across the basin floor, widening as massive feet slammed into the earth.

Thoren remained at the rear, his perception pushed to its absolute limit. To survive and win this unfavorable battle, his commands had to be flawless.

There was no room for error.

His awareness stretched across the battlefield, allowing him to observe nearly every movement, every shift in formation, and every opening.

With that information, he adjusted his commands in real time, redirecting undead units where they were needed most.

Boom!

Boom!

The two forces collided.

The entire basin trembled as molten lava erupted violently from the cracks, splashing across the battlefield. Ash clouds were thrown into chaos, swirling violently in the heated air.

For decades, the basin had remained silent, witnessing nothing more than the occasional passage of humans and beasts.

But today.

It bore witness to a brutal clash between the undead race and the beast race.

A battle that would decide who dominated this forsaken land.

****

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