Chapter 57: The Battle Truly Begins

Deep inside the sacred chamber, far removed from the chaos unfolding on the surface, Thoren remained oblivious to the cataclysmic changes shaking the ancient city.

At this moment, nothing beyond the chamber mattered to him.

His situation did not allow even a fleeting thought of escape or distraction.

Survival was his only concern.

He stared at the terrifying monster standing before him and forcefully swallowed the lump lodged in his throat.

The humanoid creature towered at over three meters tall, its overwhelming presence pressing down on the chamber like an invisible weight.

Its long serpentine tail coiled lazily around its waist, moving with subtle intelligence, like a living sentinel waiting for blood.

Two crimson horns jutted from its head, pulsing faintly, slowly, rhythmically, like a heartbeat made of flesh and malice.

Its claws elongated before Thoren’s eyes.

Longer.

Sharper.

Deadlier.

Each finger ended in a blade capable of tearing steel apart.

Its muscles were stone-hard, tightly packed and dense, as though sculpted by an ancient artisan who knew only destruction.

Power radiated from every inch of its body.

Slowly, deliberately, the monster turned its gaze toward Thoren.

Its eyes locked onto him.

A devilish grin crept across its face.

Thoren’s muscles stiffened instantly.

Every strand of hair on his body stood on end as a primal fear surged through him.

He could hear the heavy pounding of his own heart, each beat echoing loudly in his ears, drowning out everything else.

[???]

[Level 18]

Thoren’s pupils constricted.

The monster’s name had changed.

No—its very existence had shifted.

Although its level remained the same, Thoren knew better than to believe it was unchanged.

Whatever stood before him now was no longer just a high-ranking Stonewall being.

This was something else entirely.

Something ancient.

Something terrifying.

Something deadly.

More importantly…

Something bloodthirsty.

Thud.

Thud.

The monster began to move.

Each step echoed like a war drum within the chamber, shaking the ground beneath Thoren’s feet.

Deep cracks spread outward from every footprint, spiderwebbing across the stone floor.

“Your soul is the purest I’ve ever seen…”

A voice boomed throughout the chamber, heavy and suffocating, shaking the very foundations of the space.

It did not come from the monster.

Thoren knew that instantly.

His gaze snapped toward the far end of the chamber, landing on the faceless statue standing silently in the shadows.

’The voice belongs to the statue,’ he realized.

But he did not dwell on it.

Right now, only one thing mattered.

The monster in front of him.

Thoren drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, forcing himself to regain control over his scattered emotions.

Fear gnawed at his mind, but he refused to let it consume him.

’I can do this…’

’Nothing can stop me… not even this ancient monster.’

With every repetition of the thought, his confidence grew.

The oppressive mental pressure radiating from the creature began to weaken, fading little by little.

When the monster first transformed, its horrifying aura had nearly crushed his will.

But now.

Thoren’s eyes blazed with fierce fighting spirit.

’If I can take it down once, I can do it again.’

His determination hardened like steel.

He locked eyes with the monster, and a confident grin slowly crept across his face.

“Let’s do this,” he muttered.

With that, he sent a mental command through his undead space.

Howl!

A deafening, feral howl erupted as Thoren’s undead legion surged forward, flooding the chamber in a tide of death.

“Je! Je! Je!”

The monster laughed grotesquely as it watched the undead rush toward it, its amusement unmistakable.

Whoosh!

In the next instant, it vanished.

The air where it had stood exploded outward as a violent gust swept through the chamber.

Thoren gasped sharply, his eyes widening in shock at the inhuman speed.

Before he could react.

Bang!

The chamber trembled violently.

Dust rained down from the ceiling, chunks of stone crashing onto the floor as if the structure itself were on the verge of collapse.

Bang! Bang!

The monster had already appeared at the center of the undead legion.

It began to slaughter.

Each swing of its claws ripped through dozens of undead minions, their bodies torn apart midair before shattering into dust.

Bones exploded.

Flesh disintegrated.

The air filled with debris and dark mist.

Its tail moved like a living weapon, independent of its body.

It slashed.

It pierced.

It cleaved through undead minions like a cold, merciless blade.

The devastation was absolute.

Thoren retreated instinctively from the shockwave, his heart pounding violently against his ribs.

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts.

Without hesitation, he issued another command.

There was no time to think.

No time to plan.

The monster was closing in—fast.

Two Level 16 Undead High Nobles charged head-on, leading the assault. Level 13 and Level 14 undead attacked from both flanks, their weapons gleaming and their eyes burning with soul fire.

Bang! Bang!

“What?!”

Thoren’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The two Level 16 Undead High Nobles were sent flying backward with a single palm strike.

Their chests caved inward, deep claw marks tearing through their bodies. For a brief moment, they lay motionless, their soul flames flickering violently.

The power behind that strike was terrifying.

As for the Level 13 and Level 14 undead.

Half of them were severed cleanly by the monster’s tail, their bodies exploding into stone fragments.

’What kind of ability is that?’ Thoren cursed inwardly.

In that moment, realization struck him like lightning.

This was how the humans in the ancient city had been turned into stone statues.

The work of an ancient being.

The statue.

Even so, surrender never crossed his mind.

Then.

He noticed something.

The undead stone warriors.

They were immune.

Although some had been shattered, three still stood their ground, unaffected by the petrifying force.

A smile tugged at the corner of Thoren’s lips.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the two Level 16 Undead High Nobles slowly rising back to their feet.

’Let’s end this,’ he thought coldly.

In a flash, he withdrew most of the remaining undead into his undead space, leaving only the undead stone warriors behind.

“Je! Je! Je!”

The monster’s grin widened as it saw this, its feral eyes locking onto Thoren as if victory was already within its grasp.

It was wrong.

Whoosh!

The air trembled violently.

Four powerful presences materialized inside the chamber.

Four Level 16 Undead High Noble Warriors stood tall, radiating overwhelming deathly aura.

And among them.

One wielded the Black Ember Ironblade.

The sword hummed softly, its blackened surface glowing faintly with ember-red light.

Thoren’s eyes gleamed.

The real battle had just begun.

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