Chapter 42: When the Dead Choose Sides.

Looking into the hollow, soul-burning eyes of the undead Mad Dogs, both the Silver Crest Guild members and the Crimson Arc Guild members could not help but swallow hard.

A suffocating pressure settled over the battlefield.

For the Crimson Arc Guild, Thoren was at best an ally.

And even that word felt dangerously generous.

They did not trust him.

They could not trust him.

A necromancer who raised the dead without hesitation, who treated fallen humans as mere resources… such a person could never be truly relied upon.

At most, he was a temporary blade pointed in the same direction.

Nothing more.

“Do you intend to meddle in our business?”

A sharp voice cut through the tense silence.

A short boy stepped forward from the Silver Crest Guild’s formation, a deep frown etched into his youthful face.

He raised his long staff and pointed it directly at Thoren.

From his robes, engraved staff, and the faint mana fluctuations surrounding him, his profession was immediately obvious.

A mage.

His eyes were cold, filled with disdain rather than fear.

“Don’t think that just because you managed to escape from the Federation, you can interfere with our affairs,” he sneered.

“Boy, I suggest you mind your own fucking business.”

Mana surged violently around him, heat rippling through the air as flames licked along the head of his staff.

The threat was blatant.

Before Thoren could respond, another voice rang out.

“Nonsense.”

An average-looking girl from the Crimson Arc Guild stepped forward, her staff raised as she pointed it at the Silver Crest mage.

“Don’t think you can intimidate him while we’re still standing,” she said sharply.

She had been present during Thoren’s previous encounter with the Crimson Arc Guild, standing just behind Arin at the time.

Although she had not personally witnessed Thoren fight, the intelligence gathered by the guild told her more than enough.

Low level or not, Thoren was dangerous.

“Humph!” The short boy snorted derisively. “With your pitiful strength, do you really think you can stop us?”

His gaze swept across the Crimson Arc members with open contempt.

“Today, we will obtain that item,” he declared with absolute confidence. “Even if he chooses to side with you.”

He turned his attention to Thoren at last, eyes narrowing.

“And as for him…” His lips curled into a mocking smile. “With those weak undead servants of his, I’d like to see how he plans to stop us.”

Thoren did not respond immediately.

He and his undead halted just a few steps away from the two opposing groups.

The fog curling around the undead Mad Dogs thickened subtly, spreading across the street like a creeping tide.

Thoren barely spared the short mage a glance.

Instead, his gaze fixed on the average-looking girl from the Crimson Arc Guild.

“Where is your guildmaster?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with urgency.

The Crimson Arc members hesitated.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

“We don’t know,” the girl finally answered. “The guildmaster and the elite team separated from us earlier.”

Thoren nodded, his expression unreadable.

“I see.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the distant end of the street, where the oppressive pressure from the ancient city seemed to thicken with each passing second.

“Then let’s end this farce quickly.”

His tone hardened.

“There’s a much bigger threat heading our way.”

Before anyone could react, before the Silver Crest Guild could even process his words.

The undead Mad Dogs lunged forward.

“Y-You—!”

The short mage’s face twisted with fury, but his reaction was swift.

He slammed his staff into the ground, chanting sharply.

He was a Level 11 Fire Mage.

Against what he perceived as low-level undead, he held no doubt in his heart.

’Heat Wave Push!’

A shallow wave of fire burst forth, rushing toward the charging undead servants.

Sizzle!

Steam and smoke erupted as flames washed over the Mad Dogs.

The Silver Crest Guild members watched intently, expecting the undead charge to falter.

Then.

“Howl!”

A deep, guttural howl echoed through the street.

The undead Mad Dogs burst through the fire.

Unstopped.

Unslowed.

Their charred flesh continued to move as though nothing had happened.

They were already dead.

Pain meant nothing to them.

“T-They’re still coming!” someone screamed in panic.

“The fire didn’t stop them!”

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

But it was too late.

There was no time to cast a proper crowd-control spell.

“Fight!” he shouted desperately. “Kill the boy and his minions!”

’Flame Arrow!’

Without waiting for coordination, he unleashed a barrage of flaming arrows toward the undead Mad Dogs.

The battlefield erupted into chaos.

The Crimson Arc Guild members were momentarily stunned by the sudden shift.

Just moments ago, the Silver Crest Guild had been their enemy but now, it felt as though they were the ones caught between two predators.

The average-looking girl reacted instantly.

“Kill!” she shouted, charging forward.

’Wind Cutter Barrage!’

Blades of compressed wind formed in the air and shot forward at terrifying speed, tearing into the Silver Crest Guild’s formation.

Behind her, the rest of the Crimson Arc Guild surged into action, each member finding an opponent.

Spells clashed against spells.

Steel met steel.

Blood splattered across the ancient stone road.

Everyone fought with lethal intent, desperate to eliminate their enemy as quickly as possible.

Everyone.

Except Thoren.

He stood alone, watching calmly as his undead servants tore into the Silver Crest Guild.

To end the battle decisively, he raised his hand.

Whoosh!

Another twenty undead Mad Dogs emerged from the undead space.

The street was instantly flooded with undead.

“Ahhh—!”

A soul-rending scream echoed.

A Silver Crest Guild member collapsed to the ground as a Level 9 undead Mad Dog tore his arm clean off and flung it aside.

Its hollow eyes locked onto him as it raised its claw.

Slash!

Deep, savage gashes tore across his chest.

Blood gushed like a broken dam.

The boy whimpered once more then went still.

Elsewhere, two undead Mad Dogs pounced on another Silver Crest member.

The girl barely had time to scream before she was torn apart from both front and back.

Her organs spilled onto the ground as her body collapsed into a pool of blood.

The sight was horrifying.

The Crimson Arc Guild members felt their courage shatter.

Their stomachs churned violently.

Fear clamped down on their hearts like iron vices.

No one dared to breathe loudly as they watched the Silver Crest Guild members being ripped apart.

Now they understood.

Kill one undead servant—two more would take its place.

They were fearless.

Relentless.

They did not hesitate.

They did not think.

They simply reacted.

Killing machines.

By the time the Crimson Arc Guild recovered from their shock, it was already over.

The last Silver Crest Guild member fell.

Then.

The corpses twitched.

Bone cracked.

Flesh shifted.

One by one, the fallen Silver Crest Guild members rose again.

As undead.

The Crimson Arc Guild froze.

Muscles stiffened.

Breaths grew shallow.

Was this… their fate as well?

The average-looking girl stared at Thoren’s expressionless face and swallowed hard.

“L-Let’s leave…” Thoren said quietly. “This place is no longer safe.”

As he walked off, the Crimson Arc Guild remained rooted in place, watching his back retreat into the distance.

He didn’t attack us…

The girl released a shaky breath.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep