Inside the rancid, pulsing belly of the massive zombie, Bong Me-Eon and her master, the middle-aged woman, staggered as the ground beneath them throbbed with unnatural life.

Faint greenish light seeped through fleshy veins, illuminating their path in the monstrous tunnel.

A mixture of shock and awe rippled across Bong Me-Eon’s face, while her master’s expression was more guarded, her eyes narrowing in grim determination as she took in their surroundings.

Just as they were catching their breath, their gazes locked onto an unexpected sight: there, seated within a dense cocoon of necrotic energy, was Song Woo-Ji.

His face was taut with focus, eyes half-lidded but blazing with intent as he maneuvered his hands, guiding the creature’s every move from the inside.

The two women shared a glance, silently agreeing not to disturb him.

Instead, they exchanged whispered words as they watched him, their voices barely audible over the grotesque, wet sounds of the zombie’s moving entrails.

“How…” The middle-aged woman’s whisper was barely controlled, trembling with shock. “Bong Me-Eon, you never told me your disciple could wield this kind of power.”

Bong Me-Eon, stunned herself, stammered, “Grandmaster… I-I didn’t know he was capable of this. Truly.”

The older woman raised a brow, skepticism laced with curiosity. “You don’t know your own disciple’s abilities?”

Bong Me-Eon bit her lip, her eyes flickering back to Song Woo-Ji, who appeared completely absorbed, his attention unyielding as he maintained his mental link with the undead behemoth.

“It’s… complicated,” she murmured, glancing away from Song Woo-Ji and back to her master.

Her master crossed her arms, not breaking her intense gaze.

“You keep calling him a disciple, yet here he is, harnessing death magic of a caliber that only a handful of us, even among the highest ranks, can even hope to wield. I assumed you’d have picked a disciple with potential. But this… this is beyond mere potential.”

Bong Me-Eon nodded, hesitating before responding, “I suppose it’s… unusual, yes. I never intended to take on a disciple like him.”

The older woman’s expression softened slightly, but her scrutiny remained. “Tell me, how did you come by him? A talent like this doesn’t simply materialize.”

Taking a deep breath, Bong Me-Eon began to recount their first meeting.

“It was months ago, during an expedition outside the city boundaries. We were tracking a powerful undead lich, one who was terrorizing villages and leaving devastation in their wake. My team was worn down from days of searching… and then we found him.”

She paused, recalling the harrowing memory.

“Song Woo-Ji appeared out of nowhere, battered and bruised, but his eyes… there was something different in them. Determined. Unyielding. He approached our group, asking for assistance.

“But instead of pleading for help, he offered information. Information only someone intimately acquainted with death magic could have known. I was wary, of course. But he… he was compelling.”

The older woman’s brows knit together, her gaze never leaving Bong Me-Eon. “And this persuaded you to train him? A stranger steeped in death magic?”

“Not immediately,” Bong Me-Eon admitted. “He wasn’t just any wanderer. There was a depth to him, a knowledge that went beyond simple arcane skill. He’d clearly been through hardships of his own, scars that went deeper than what the eye could see. I couldn’t just turn him away.”

A long silence followed, broken only by the rumble of the zombie’s internal workings.

The grandmaster crossed her arms, finally nodding slightly, a sign of approval or understanding that Bong Me-Eon hadn’t expected.

“So, he intrigued you. That’s no small feat. But tell me, have you ever seen him in action like this? Seen him fully unleashed?”

Bong Me-Eon shook her head, eyes wide as they flicked back to Song Woo-Ji.

“No. Not until now. He was always more… reserved. His power was something I sensed but couldn’t quite pin down.”

The grandmaster’s eyes narrowed again, assessing. “Perhaps his restraint is because he has something… more. Something beyond even our understanding.”

“Perhaps,” Bong Me-Eon whispered, a newfound respect in her voice as she watched Song Woo-Ji command the undead creature with a focus so intense, she felt she could practically feel the weight of his power radiating outward.

They fell silent, watching Song Woo-Ji as he manipulated the massive zombie with a terrifying grace.

His hands moved fluidly, each gesture sending a ripple of decay-fueled power through the creature’s massive frame.

Outside, Volk roared, his voice echoing even within the creature’s belly, and they could feel the massive undead tremble under his assault.

Suddenly, the zombie creature shuddered violently, and the two women stumbled as its hulking arm was blasted apart.

They could hear Volk’s fury outside, the earth-shattering sound of his fist meeting decaying flesh, tearing through the creature’s limbs one by one.

The older woman tensed, her hands instinctively moving to her weapons. “It won’t hold much longer,” she murmured, eyes narrowing as she watched Song Woo-Ji, still deep in concentration, showing no sign of retreating.

Bong Me-Eon whispered urgently to her master, “If we’re to escape… we’ll need him to hear us.”

The older woman nodded and reached out to Song Woo-Ji, attempting to call his name, but it was like speaking to a wall.

He was locked within his magic, every ounce of his will focused on maintaining the fight against Volk.

As his concentration deepened, the very air inside the zombie grew denser with necrotic energy, waves of dark magic pulsing through its tissue.

Bong Me-Eon tried again, louder this time. “Song Woo-Ji! Can you hear us?”

Still, he did not respond, his gaze unfocused, a cold sweat breaking over his brow as he clenched his fists.

They felt another jarring impact as Volk ripped through the creature’s shoulder, shattering what remained of its decayed muscle and bone.

The older woman glanced at Bong Me-Eon, worry etched across her face. “If he doesn’t respond soon, this entire form will crumble, and we’ll be exposed.”

Just then, a low sigh escaped from Song Woo-Ji, a sound of exhaustion as he tightened his grip on the energy that held the undead together.

Bong Me-Eon, with newfound urgency, reached out, speaking directly to him, her voice steady but full of concern. “Song Woo-Ji! Look at us!”

At last, her voice seemed to reach him.

His eyes flickered, breaking from their trance-like focus, and he slowly turned to face them, surprise and confusion dawning on his features as he took in the sight of his master and the grandmaster beside her.

“Master… Grandmaster…”

His voice was weary, laced with the weight of the battle he was waging outside.

Bong Me-Eon took a deep breath, relief flooding her face.

“Song Woo-Ji, we’ve been here the whole time. This… this power you’re wielding. It’s incredible, but we need you to stay with us. If this creature falls apart, we need to be ready to escape.”

The older woman nodded, adding her own words of caution.

“Your power is formidable, but remember, the monster Horde leader is relentless. Use this time wisely and if we can help, tell us.”

Song Woo-Ji’s eyes hardened, his expression shifting to one of fierce resolve as he looked from his master to the grandmaster.

Then, turning back toward the pulsing energy outside, he readied himself, gathering what remained of his strength to face the inevitable clash with the monster horde leader.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep