Outside the Death Dragon Domain where Volk was in, the city street turned into a battlefield, becoming an inferno of chaos and carnage.

The clash of metal on metal echoed across the plains, accompanied by the thundering roars of the Ogres and the desperate cries of the human rankers.

The reinforcements had arrived in droves, their numbers impressive, but even their vast numbers were no match for the towering behemoths they now faced.

These weren’t mere Orcs anymore.

They had evolved—grown massive, mutated into Ogres, their hulking forms towering over the battlefield, their muscles bulging with unnatural strength.

BOOOOOM!

An Ogre smashed its massive fist into the earth, sending shockwaves that knocked a group of rankers off their feet.

The ground trembled beneath its weight as it charged forward, its yellow eyes gleaming with rage and bloodlust.

The rankers scrambled to regroup, their weapons trembling in their hands as they tried to contain the overwhelming force.

The Ogres’ skin was thick and nearly impenetrable, their roars deafening, their fists like battering rams.

“FALL BACK! FALL BACK!” one of the ranker captains shouted, his voice barely audible over the din of battle.

But there was no retreat.

The Ogres pressed forward, their footfalls shaking the earth.

With each step, they crushed the remnants of the human defenses beneath their feet.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, sweat, blood and panic.

One Ogre lifted a human ranker by the waist, squeezing the man’s body like a ragdoll.

The ranker screamed in agony before the Ogre slammed him into the ground with a sickening crunch.

Blood sprayed across the battlefield as the Ogre let out a thunderous roar.

“RAAAAAAAAARGH!”

The Ogres were unstoppable, a force of nature, tearing through the human ranks like paper.

Their roars were loud and primal, vibrating through the air with a force that shook the very bones of the rankers who faced them.

Human soldiers fired rounds of bullets, but the bullets merely ricocheted off the Ogres’ thick skin.

Magical spells were cast, lightning bolts arcing through the air, but the Ogres swatted them aside like gnats.

“AAAAAAARGHHH!”

The screams of dying men filled the battlefield as the Ogres rampaged, smashing through formations, their fists leaving craters in the ground.

The humans were shouting orders, casting spells, throwing grenades, but it all seemed hopeless in the face of such raw power.

Limbs flew through the air, blood soaked the earth, and the Ogres continued their relentless assault, each one more savage than the last.

Meanwhile, back inside the domain, amidst the suffocating silence, a tiny crack appeared in the Draconic Graveyard.

The silence was pierced by the sound of bones scraping against stone as a small skeleton emerged from the fissure.

He was an odd sight—a tiny, almost cute, figure compared to the massive chaos outside.

His tiny bony feet clattered against the ground as he cautiously stepped out of the crack, his hollow eye sockets darting left and right in sheer terror.

He trembled, shaking so violently that his bones rattled together.

He was terrified.

“Master… please…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

He didn’t belong in this chaos.

His small frame was fragile compared to the Ogres rampaging outside, and the battle raging around him was enough to make his bones shiver. But he had a mission. He had to save his master.

As soon as he landed, he saw what was left of Sung Woo-Ji, and his heart—if he had one—sank.

There, lying in a heap of blood and dust, was the familiar figure of the teenage ranker.

Sung Woo-Ji’s appearance was a far cry from what it had been before the battle.

His once sharp eyes were now dull, his skin pale, his clothes shredded and soaked with blood.

His body lay lifeless on the ground, motionless, as though all life had left him.

His messy hair clung to his sweat-drenched forehead, and his chest did not rise or fall.

He was dead.

The skeleton gulped, or at least made the sound of it, despite lacking a throat.

His small bony hands trembled as he tried to grasp Woo-Ji’s arm, struggling to drag the lifeless body behind him.

“Master… please… I’ll take you to another Death Orb… you have to keep it… we can’t let you die here!” he cried, his voice quivering with fear.

His tiny frame struggled to drag Sung Woo-Ji’s body, which seemed to grow heavier with each passing second.

The skeleton glanced up, watching the battle rage around him.

The Ogres—now far more enormous than before—were decimating everything in their path.

Bullets flew past the skeleton’s head, the sounds of gunfire and explosions reverberating in the air.

Magic attacks lit up the sky, but the Ogres were undeterred, their rampage continuing unabated.

“Master, hang on!” the skeleton squeaked, yanking with all his might as he pulled Woo-Ji’s limp body behind him.

“Just a few more minutes! Just a few more minutes…”

But the minutes were slipping away.

The skeleton could see the humans being crushed by the rampaging Ogres.

He dodged out of the way as one of the monsters stomped down, barely missing him by inches.

Sweat—or whatever the skeleton equivalent was—dripped from his skull as he continued dragging Woo-Ji’s body through the battlefield.

“Ten minutes… we only have ten minutes left!” the skeleton gasped, his voice a shaky whisper.

He glanced at the horizon, where the chaos seemed never-ending.

It felt hopeless.

Every step forward felt like he was walking through mud.

His tiny legs struggled under the weight of Woo-Ji’s body, and the Ogres were everywhere.

The battle showed no signs of slowing down.

Nine minutes… eight minutes…

The time ticked down, and with each passing minute, the skeleton’s panic grew. He couldn’t let Woo-Ji die here. Not now. Not after everything they had been through.

“Come on! Please!” the skeleton pleaded, yanking Woo-Ji’s arm, his bones rattling as he struggled.

The body was so heavy now, every inch of progress felt like moving a mountain.

The skeleton’s mind raced, his fear growing as time slipped away.

Six minutes… five minutes…

“Master…!” the skeleton cried out, his voice breaking.

He could hear the heavy footfalls of an Ogre approaching.

The massive creature lumbered toward him, its eyes locked on the tiny skeleton.

The skeleton squeaked in fear, dragging Woo-Ji faster, dodging behind a boulder just as the Ogre’s fist came crashing down, sending debris flying.

“Four minutes…”

The skeleton’s limbs were trembling, his bony hands barely holding onto Woo-Ji’s arm. He was out of time.

His master was dying, the battlefield was falling apart, and the Ogres were closing in.

There were only three minutes left.

He could hear the countdown in his head, ticking down like a death sentence.

Two minutes…

The skeleton gritted his teeth-or at least the skeletal equivalent-and pulled harder, his mind racing.

It felt hopeless, every second was slipping through his fingers.

Woo-Ji’s body was lifeless, cold, and still, and no matter how hard he pulled, it seemed like there wasn’t enough time left to save him.

Finally, as the last minute approached, the skeleton let out a desperate cry, his voice echoing through the chaos around them.

“Master, please wake up!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep