Chapter 41: Level Up Amid Marching Doom

Looking at the empty street before him, Thoren could not hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he strode forward.

Although his strength had surged significantly and his army of undead had grown by a considerable margin, he did not allow complacency to take root in his heart.

Experience had taught him that arrogance was the fastest path to death, especially in a place like this ancient city.

If anything, the unsettling feeling of being watched had not diminished after the battle.

It had intensified.

The sensation clung to him like an invisible shadow, burrowing deep into his consciousness, pressing against his nerves with suffocating persistence.

It was no longer a vague discomfort.

It felt deliberate, intentional as though something ancient and intelligent was observing his every move.

Thoren chose to ignore it.

At least, he tried to.

However, the rising sound of heavy footsteps echoing from within the palace behind him and from the surrounding streets was impossible to dismiss.

The city was stirring.

No, it had already awakened.

He veered into a relatively quiet side street, his long strides measured and purposeful.

The cracked stone road stretched ahead of him like the gullet of a beast, silent yet threatening.

Only then did he allow himself to focus on the notifications hovering before his eyes.

[Experience Gained: +22,230]

[Summoned Entities: Experience Gained: +11,115]

[Spirit: +6]

[Level: 10 (27,350 / 25,000)]

[Level Up!]

[Attribute Points: +5]

[Level: 11 (2,350 / 32,000)]

“Hahaha…”

A low chuckle escaped Thoren’s lips, raw and unrestrained.

He did not bother suppressing it.

“I’ve leveled up.”

The sound echoed faintly through the abandoned street, quickly swallowed by the oppressive silence.

Despite the danger surrounding him, a wave of genuine satisfaction washed over his mind.

Being marked by an unknown ancient entity was no small matter.

The pressure it placed on him was immense, like an invisible brand seared into his soul.

Yet now, at the very least, the gains he had reaped made the risk feel… bearable.

More than bearable.

The Stonewall Tribe, once terrifying enemies had been reduced to nothing more than additional resources.

Their corpses had strengthened his undead army, and their demise had propelled his growth forward at an astonishing rate.

And the notifications were not finished.

[Level Up – Assassin Skeleton No. 1]

[Level: 11]

[Level Up – Assassin Skeleton No. 2]

[Level: 11]

[Level Up]

[Level Up]

Thoren’s steps slowed as his brows rose slightly in surprise.

Many of his undead servants had leveled up.

Not just one or two—but several.

He had expected some growth, yes, but this exceeded his projections.

Even accounting for the Stonewall Tribe’s strength, the results were impressive.

“I didn’t think a single battle would push them this far…” he muttered.

A few undead had been destroyed during the clash, but the losses were insignificant compared to the gains.

In the grand scheme of his undead legion, it was a trivial price.

With both Assassin Skeletons at Level 11, his combat potential had risen sharply.

Even without relying on his Level 13 Warrior Skeleton or the Level 13 Knight Skeleton, these two assassins alone were more than sufficient to deal with most common threats.

His strength was steadily consolidating.

[Name: Thoren Starfall]

[Occupation: Necromancer]

[Rank: Iron]

[Level: 11 (2350/32,000)]

[Attributes: Strength 20, Agility 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 20, Perception 17, Charm 12]

[Spirit: 40.44]

[Skills: Undead Summoning, Bone Manipulation Skill]

[Talent: Ex-Rank Undead Space]

[Sub-Talent: SSS Rank Soul Lantern of Eternal Crypt]

[Abyss Market: Unavailable (Available at Bronze Rank)]

[Unassigned Attributes Points: 10]

[Inventory]

Staring at the steep experience requirement for the next level, Thoren creased his brow briefly—then smiled.

“With so many human stone statues roaming this city…” he murmured, anticipation gleaming in his eyes, “leveling up again doesn’t seem impossible.”

The thought quickened his pace.

The eastern streets of the ancient city were far more oppressive than the paths he had previously walked.

The air was thick, heavy, and suffocating, reeking of old blood and lingering death.

The stench seemed to seep from the stones themselves.

The ground trembled faintly beneath his boots.

Buildings that had once appeared empty now felt different.

As Thoren passed them, he noticed subtle movements within the shadows, shifting silhouettes that vanished the moment he tried to focus on them.

His muscles tensed.

His heart skipped a beat.

Yet he did not slow down.

’This city is becoming increasingly dangerous,’ he thought grimly.

Suddenly, the sound of clashing steel echoed from somewhere ahead.

Shouts.

Battle cries.

Without hesitation, Thoren accelerated, his Level 7 and Level 8 Undead Mad Dogs surging ahead to form a vanguard.

He took a sharp turn into another street and froze.

Less than fifty meters away, two groups were locked in a brutal battle.

His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned.

The Crimson Arc Guild.

Opposing them were figures clad in robes emblazoned with a familiar insignia.

The Silver Crest Guild.

“Why are they fighting?” Thoren muttered, confusion flickering across his face.

The ancient city was already lethal enough.

For two powerful guilds to engage in a life-and-death struggle here was madness.

Before he could think further, the ground shook violently beneath his feet.

This tremor was different.

He spun around.

“What the hell—”

The sight behind him made his breath hitch.

Thousands of human stone statues were marching forward in perfect formation, their movements synchronized and relentless.

At their forefront rode a towering stone warrior astride a massive stone beast bristling with jagged bone spikes.

The pressure rolling off the creature was suffocating.

Thoren swallowed hard.

Just the beast alone was enough to make his scalp prickle.

The presence of the stone figure riding it sent a chill straight down his spine.

“I need to leave. Now.”

His expression hardened.

He was not arrogant enough to believe his current undead army could stand against thousands of Level 10 or higher stone warriors, especially with something like that leading them.

His gaze flicked back to the ongoing battle.

Help them… or escape?

Thoren was selfish.

He knew it.

He valued his own survival above all else.

But he was not ungrateful.

The Crimson Arc Guildmaster had shown him goodwill when they first met.

Ignoring them now would leave a sour taste in his mouth.

“Tch…”

He clicked his tongue.

“Damn it.”

With a sharp gesture, he commanded his undead servants to charge toward the battlefield.

Unknown to Thoren, both guilds had already noticed his presence.

The Crimson Arc Guild members felt a spark of hope.

The Silver Crest Guild members, however, went pale.

How is he still alive?

When they saw him rushing toward them, dread seized their hearts.

Fear tightened around their chests like iron shackles.

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