Chapter 51: Calculated Annihilation

The massive underground chamber had devolved into a full-scale war.

Stone cracked.

Bone shattered. Blood sprayed across ancient walls that had not witnessed such violence in countless years.

The air trembled beneath the relentless clash between Thoren’s undead army and the four remaining Level 16 Stonewall Tribe High Nobles.

Each High Noble moved like a living calamity.

Their massive claws tore through ranks of weaker undead with terrifying ease. With every swing, skeletal bodies were pulverized, undead Mad Dogs were ripped apart, and soul flames flickered before vanishing forever.

Every second, dozens of undead servants were destroyed—never to rise again.

Yet.

The undead army did not falter.

They continued to surge forward like an endless tide.

Fear did not exist for them.

Pain did not slow them.

Their hollow, lifeless eyes remained locked onto their enemies, devoid of emotion, driven only by the will of their master.

Behind the raging battlefield stood Thoren.

He observed everything with a cold, calculating gaze, his posture calm and unmoving, like a sovereign overseeing the collapse of an enemy kingdom.

Not once did the destruction of his undead army stir his heart.

To him, their deaths were neither tragic nor wasteful.

They were fulfilling their purpose.

Against enemies of this caliber, Level 10 undead servants were nothing more than expendable shields; cannon fodder meant to exhaust, restrain, and distract.

And Thoren had no shortage of them.

What the four High Nobles failed to notice was that none of the undead they destroyed were high-level.

The true core of Thoren’s strength had not yet entered the battlefield.

His high-level undead warriors remained deliberately positioned at the rear, silent and unmoving, awaiting the precise moment to strike.

Thoren’s eyes narrowed.

“It is time,” he muttered softly.

Cold calculation flashed through his gaze.

At his command, the battlefield shifted.

Level 13 and Level 14 undead warriors began to advance.

Their movements were measured and deliberate, like executioners stepping toward the gallows.

Thoren divided them into two coordinated groups.

Each group targeted two High Nobles simultaneously.

The moment they entered range—

Bang! Bang!

Six Level 14 undead warriors attacked in perfect unison.

Their weapons struck with overwhelming force.

Shriek!

The four High Nobles roared in fury, their faces twisting with rage and disbelief. The sudden pressure disrupted their momentum, forcing them to stagger back.

But before they could retaliate.

The high-level undead retreated.

Like phantoms, they withdrew into the sea of lower-level undead as Level 10 servants surged forward once more, throwing themselves at the High Nobles without hesitation.

Level 13 skeleton warriors followed immediately, locking the High Nobles into brutal close combat.

Stone spears gleamed with murderous intent.

Bang! Bang!

Weapons clashed.

The coordinated assault forced the four High Nobles into defensive positions.

Every time one attempted to target a high-level undead warrior, weaker undead intercepted the attack, sacrificing themselves without hesitation.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Blood covered the High Nobles’ bodies.

Deep gashes marred their stone-like flesh.

They howled in frustration and rage, unleashing their full power in desperate attempts to regain control of the battlefield.

But against Thoren.

Desperation was meaningless.

Their downfall had already been calculated.

Just as the four High Nobles were pushed to the brink, a new presence appeared beside Thoren.

A massive humanoid undead stepped forward.

An Undead High Noble.

Its hollow eyes burned with intense soul fire, radiating intelligence and authority. Unlike lesser undead, its movements were refined, purposeful, and terrifyingly calm.

Thoren glanced at it from the corner of his eye.

“Kill,” he commanded.

The Undead High Noble nodded once and advanced.

The few surviving awakeners could not help but gasp.

“My god…”

“How did he even manage that?”

“To enslave a High Noble… this is madness…”

Shock and disbelief rippled through the survivors.

They knew the terror of the Stonewall Tribe High Nobles better than anyone.

And yet, one now served as Thoren’s weapon.

Just then, the Undead High Noble appeared behind one of the four living High Nobles.

Bang!

A devastating strike sent the creature skidding forward. A deep claw mark tore across its back, stone flesh splitting open as blood sprayed violently.

A scream erupted from its throat.

Before it could even turn.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two Level 11 Assassin Skeletons materialized at its sides.

Their blades flashed.

Twin strikes tore through its chest, leaving massive gashes as blood poured down its torso.

Before it could recover.

A Level 14 undead warrior plunged its spear straight into the creature’s throat.

Gruggg.

The High Noble convulsed once, then collapsed.

Dead.

Its former kin did not even have time to react.

The Undead High Noble did not linger.

It turned away coldly, already moving toward its next target.

Howl!

The targeted High Noble roared, rage boiling in its eyes.

How dare these humans defile their race?

How dare one of their own be turned into such an abomination?

They fought desperately, attempting to crush the surrounding undead, but escape was impossible.

The Undead High Noble arrived.

Their clash shook the chamber.

But the end came swiftly.

A brutal sword strike shattered the creature’s knee.

It fell with a thunderous crash, screaming in agony.

The Undead High Noble stepped forward and swung its claw.

The creature’s neck tore open.

Blood sprayed like a broken pipe.

The High Noble clawed desperately at its throat, futilely trying to stop the blood.

Bang!

A spear pierced its skull.

Silence followed.

With two High Nobles dead, the remaining two stood no chance.

Within two minutes, they too were annihilated.

The chamber fell silent.

No one spoke.

The surviving awakeners stood frozen, their minds shattered by what they had witnessed.

The burly young man who once mocked Thoren felt his legs tremble.

Only now did he realize how foolish his arrogance had been.

Against this undead army, he would never even know how he died.

He swallowed hard, sweat streaming down his face, praying desperately that Thoren would not remember him.

With such power, Thoren could dominate the abyss without fear.

Thoren, however, ignored them all.

His gaze was fixed on the fallen High Noble corpses.

A slow grin spread across his face.

“Now,” he said softly, anticipation burning in his eyes, “you can join my undead army.”

If five Level 16 Stonewall Tribe High Nobles rose under his command.

There would be nothing left in this abyss for him to fear.

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