Chapter 250: The Collapsing Choir Balcony

[Level: 6(450/10,500 EXP)]

[Unassigned Attributes Points: 10]

Looking at the notification, Thoren was pleased, and the corner of his lips could not help but curl upward.

“Ten thousand five hundred experience points,” he whispered under his breath.

The high experience points needed for each level were enough to discourage any ordinary awakener, but they did not discourage him. This was the price he had to pay for growing beyond all others.

While others followed the normal routes, he walked the path of the extraordinary. Thus, instead of feeling discouraged, his heart burned with fierce determination.

His eyes wandered around for a moment before he picked another random passage and departed without hesitation.

As for his undead servants, he had returned most of them to his undead space, leaving only one undead servant for protection.

A few minutes after Thoren departed, a figure walked out from another passage. The figure widened their eyes, staring at the carnage before them.

“How could this be?” the figure murmured in a trembling voice.

The figure looked around for a moment, and a deep sigh escaped their lips before they departed in large strides into the adjacent passage.

“I need to leave this ruin,” they muttered under their breath, their voice laced with fear.

It had only been a minute when another figure appeared, walking toward the blood soaked zone.

Looking at the corpses, the figure stared at them for a moment and creased their brow in confusion.

“What is going on here?” the figure muttered but did not stay to examine the bodies. Instead, they rushed to escape from the gory scene.

While the figure was trying to flee, their boots stepped on one of the corpse’s organs, and blood splattered everywhere.

Hmm?

The figure halted for a moment and lowered their head, but they did not think much about it as they quickly vanished into another passage.

Unknown to the figure, some of the blood from the organs fell onto the quiet, waiting sand.

Slowly, the dormant sand began to move. A hand like shape appeared on its surface, moving toward the direction of the fresh organs.

Whoosh!

From the sand, thousands of Veinlurker Larvae erupted, descending upon the organ like a tidal wave of pale flesh and tiny hooked teeth. In a single blink, the organ was gone, leaving no traces behind.

But the Veinlurker Larvae were far from satisfied. With the thick stench of blood hanging heavy in the air, they moved on pure instinct, following the smell like sharks scenting prey.

Thus, they began to devour one dead body after another, their circular mouths gnawing and tearing.

Three minutes later, the aisle was completely empty. Not even a single trace of blood was left behind on the cold stone floor.

Slowly, the Veinlurker Larvae returned to their dark domain, and everything fell quiet once more.

As for Thoren, he was now far deep into the ruin. He had come out of the slanted hall and picked another massive building to explore.

Half of the structure was covered in ancient sand, and some parts of it had been destroyed by an unknown, terrible force.

Thoren stared at the structure for a long moment and creased his brow deeply. The main entrance was submerged deep in the sand, and the only way inside was through a high, broken window.

Without hesitation, he walked toward the window. The window was large, with broken wooden frames hanging loosely by the sides.

Passing through the window, he entered a long, dark hall. The ceiling was fractured, with wooden railings hanging loose, and the entire structure creaked with every slight movement he made.

Below him, darkness pooled unnaturally, thick and impenetrable.

Walking beside the railings, Thoren could hear the loud echo of his own footsteps. Even though he tried subconsciously not to make any sound, the creaks from the wooden railing amplified every noise tenfold.

Everything around him was terrifyingly silent.

The darkness around him seemed to have come alive, breathing and watching. The deeper he went, the deeper and thicker the darkness became.

At the end of the wooden railings, Thoren saw fragments of torn choir robes that had yet to be consumed by time. They hung from rusted hooks along the walls, swaying gently despite the complete absence of wind.

Beyond that, he saw splintered wooden chairs scattered across the ground. Some of them still held skeletons draped in decayed choir robes.

Some of the skeletons held what were once hymn books, their pages long since turned to dust.

Thoren watched everything without any intention of touching them. From what he had learned so far, too much curiosity in this place would only lead to unnecessary and terrible trouble.

Thus, he would rather stick to the main path and wait for any potential enemies or rewards to come his way.

Just as he passed through the rows of splintered choir seats, he noticed dangled strands of thin, glistening threads that caught the dim red light filtering from somewhere above.

The threads stretched from beam to beam in uneven, chaotic patterns. They sagged slightly in the middle, trembling at the slightest vibration in the air.

And sometimes, if one stood still long enough and listened carefully, those threads would tighten suddenly, as if something lurking above had noticed the intruder below.

And indeed, something had noticed Thoren.

He drew a cold, sharp breath and commanded his undead servant to move forward into the web of threads.

From his heightened perception, he noticed something large was hiding behind the thin, glistening threads. Something that was watching him with ancient, patient hunger.

Thud! Thud!

The undead servant walked forward obediently, its heavy footsteps echoing like a tolling bell in the still, suffocating atmosphere.

It passed through the first thin thread line, and nothing happened. Then it passed through the second, and still nothing happened. Then the third thread.

Just as Thoren thought nothing would happen, everything changed in an instant.

Bang!

His undead servant was sent flying backward by a powerful, unseen force. It crashed into the ancient wooden chairs, shattering them into splinters and dust.

Huh!

Thoren sucked in a cold breath and stared at the location where the attack had come from.

From the deep darkness, Thoren noticed a terrible creature. It was a winged thing, its feathers dripping with coagulated blood that fell in slow, heavy drops.

Just as he tried to see more of its twisted form, the creature vanished completely.

Hmm?

He pushed his perception to its absolute limit but found nothing at all. It was as if the creature had dissolved into thin air.

But he knew that was impossible.

The creature was hiding in the darkness, watching him with patient, ancient hunger. However, Thoren was not too bothered by this realization.

He was never one to fear the darkness to begin with. Just as he prepared to summon the Illusory Lantern, everything changed in an instant.

All the hair on his body stood on end.

His heart skipped a single, terrifying beat.

His muscles stiffened beyond his control.

His back was drenched in cold, clinging sweat.

Standing a couple of feet behind him, the winged creature loomed over his helpless form. Its eyes glowed with malevolent energy, and its massive feathered wings, still dripping with coagulated blood, were ready to strike.

Whoosh!

Just as the beast struck with deadly precision, Thoren reacted on pure instinct.

[Awakened Soul]

He released the full might of his Awakened Soul while also jumping to the side to avoid the feather attack.

Everything happened in a single blink.

However, with the full force of the Awakened Soul pressing down, the winged creature’s action slowed by a fraction of a second. That tiny delay bought Thoren the necessary moment to roll to the side.

Whoosh!

Just as he rolled away, a deadly, sharp whistling sound echoed through the still, suffocating atmosphere.

Realizing its target had managed to evade its sneak attack, the winged creature vanished from its spot without a trace.

Covered in perspiration, Thoren rushed back to his feet and summoned the Illusory Lantern with desperate haste.

When the lantern appeared, the oppressive darkness around him seemed to recoil and retreat.

The ethereal glow from the lantern illuminated everywhere, and Thoren could not help but breathe a shaky sigh of relief.

Just then, he noticed his undead servant coming back to its feet. On its chest, a deep dent now marred the armor.

“This is bad,” he whispered but decided not to think about it too much.

Right now, his priority was to kill the winged creature before it killed him.

Whoosh!

From his undead space, he summoned his three strongest undead servants.

Standing before him was the undead Storm Tyrant, and behind him was the undead Royalty Stonewall.

To his left stood the Elite Jackal Beastman, and to his right was another elite undead servant.

However, to be absolutely safe, Thoren summoned one more elite undead servant to join the right flank, reinforcing his defense.

Surrounded by his undead servants on all sides, Thoren regained his lost confidence, and he began to search for the winged creature.

For a full minute, Thoren heard nothing except his own heavy, shallow breathing.

He pushed his perception to its limit again but found nothing at all. It was as if the creature had simply gone away.

But he knew better than to believe that.

Such creatures never truly leave.

They wait. They bait their prey into thinking they have gone, allowing their victims to lower their guard.

But not him. He was a patient young man. With his undead around him, he could play the game of patience for as long as needed.

And just as he had predicted, the winged creature was staring at him from the shadows.

Behind one of the massive wooden beams, its unblinking eyes followed Thoren’s every movement, watching for the smallest opening.

Suddenly, it vanished again.

****

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