At this moment, the Vein-Carriage slowed with a deep, resonant tremor that passed through the black walls before the cubical chamber split apart with a low grinding sound, and pale corpse-light spilled inward, carrying with it a dense current of Corpse Qi.

Ace stepped outside, and cold air greeted him, filled with heavy, stagnant, and saturated decay.

At that moment, he had finally entered the true world beneath the Undead Boundary called the Lower Grave Strata.

The Lower Grave Strata wasn’t a city in the ordinary sense. It was a vast subterranean realm carved beneath layers of ancient battlefield sediment and fossilized corpses.

The ceiling arched high above like the ribcage of some colossal primordial beast, jagged bone-pillars rising to support it at irregular intervals.

The ground was layered in dark stone veined with corpse-light channels, faintly glowing streams of condensed Corpse Qi flowing like underground rivers.

Massive cavern systems branched in all directions like a kingdom built from the remains of war, and it was alive!

Moreover, the Lower Grave Strata were divided according to strength and seniority.

The outermost cavern belts housed newly formed Corpse Cultivators and those below Abyssal Guardian rank. These regions were rough, filled with unstable corpse-veins and crude cultivation chambers carved directly into bone-rock.

Further inward were the Bone Legions’ districts, where Abyssal Guardians and Peak Guardians resided. These districts were structured more deliberately, arranged around massive central corpse-altars that amplified cultivation.

Deeper still lay the restricted inner sanctums, where the Half-Abyssal Kings cultivated.

At the very core, beneath layers of sealed stone and ancient runes, lay the true heart of the Undead Boundary, and only Half-Abyssal Kings have any information about it, for it was the biggest secret of the Corpse Clan.

At that moment, everywhere Ace looked, Corpse Cultivators were queuing up to enter the Vein-Carriage, already in squads and standing with eerie discipline; there was no laughter or music, yet the atmosphere was unmistakably festive.

Abyssal Guardian auras pulsed everywhere, restrained but simmering. Corpse Qi flowed thicker than usual, responding to the heightened emotions of thousands of Undead Souls preparing to hunt.

This was their outlet, their revenge, especially their long-suppressed fury given sanctioned release.

Corpse lanterns floated overhead, made from hollow skulls filled with ghostly green flame. Banners stitched from preserved skin hung from bone spires, etched with ancient corpse-runes proclaiming the beginning of the Great Corpse Carnival.

The Corpse Clan didn’t celebrate with sound, for they celebrated with killing intent, and the air trembled with it.

But when Ace, a supposedly dispatched participant of the Great Corpse Carnival, walked out, it drew instant attention filled with curiosity, confusion, and suspicion.

The squad next in the queue couldn’t help but look at him doubtfully while Ace kept his expression blank.

"I forgot something important." He hoarsely stated.

Under the baffled and doubtful eyes of the other corpse cultivators, he walked with steady, unhurried steps; the corpse vessel he wore carried the faint authority of a mid-stage Abyssal Guardian, stable and disciplined.

Even the overseers, a few Abyssal Lords, secretly observing everything, couldn’t help but frown as they watched him vanish from the Vein Carriage Cavern.

As for the squads, they no longer gave him a second glance despite their curiosity; they knew it had nothing to do with them, and it wasn’t like this guy would be able to escape investigation.

Just as they thought, when Ace reached the exit point of the cavern, a powerful spiritual pressure suddenly emerged and pressed down on him, stopping him in his tracks.

Ace knew it was one of the Abyssal Lords of the Corpse Clan who were monitoring this Vein Carriage Chamber and responsible for forming squads and participants.

Since he had returned without his squad alone, it was only natural that he would draw unwanted attention, most likely because they would think he was having second thoughts and was afraid of fighting with the Evernight Council, which was a huge taboo among the Corpse Clan, for they can be afraid of anyone but the Evernight Council!

At that moment, an icy-cold voice, tinged with disgruntlement, sounded in his mind through spirit transmission: "Varcor Dain, come and see me!"

The next moment, right beside the cavern’s exit, a pitch-black opening, filled with an oppressive atmosphere and powerful Corpse Qi, emerged.

Varcor Dain was the mirror persona Ace was currently using, and he was a 6-Star (mid-stage) Abyssal Guardian, an Elite Squad Member affiliated with Ninth Bone Legion of the Corpse Clan.

Varcor wasn’t famous, but he wasn’t insignificant either. He had refined a Nine-Star Abyssal Guardian Shadowless Devil’s corpse nearly three hundred years ago when he had just broken through the Abyssal Grandmaster Realm.

His combat record within the Upper Ancient Battlefield was respectable, with several confirmed encounters against Evernight trainees and successfully injuring them as well as escaping death multiple times.

He was known as taciturn, efficient, and loyal to the clan, which suited Ace perfectly because he could use Varcor’s clean record to talk his way out of this situation.

At that moment, Ace stepped through the opening, and the cavern outside vanished. The oppressive spiritual pressure intensified, turning heavy and suffocating; the owner of the spiritual pressure clearly wanted to make things difficult for him.

Ace pretended to struggle as he walked with difficulty. The passage was short, narrow, carved from glossy black stone that seemed to absorb even corpse-light, and then the corridor opened.

He entered a vast cultivation chamber flooded with a visible current of Corpse Qi in the space. It poured from engraved runic arrays along the walls, flowed through bone-carved conduits in the ceiling, and gathered in the center like a spiraling storm.

At the heart of that storm, something enormous lay coiled, and the moment Ace saw its form, his steps halted for a fraction of a second.

Its body stretched nearly thirty meters from horned skull to barbed tail. Two massive wings, tattered but intact, were folded against its sides. The membrane was dark and leathery, etched with corpse-runes that pulsed faintly as Corpse Qi streamed into them.

Its scales were deep obsidian, but dulled by death, cracked in places, and stitched together with bone plates and metallic reinforcement. Jagged ridges ran down its spine like a row of spears. The claws at the ends of its limbs were thick and curved, each longer than a man’s arm.

The head was the most terrifying part. Elongated and draconic, crowned with backward-curving horns that resembled blackened blades. Fangs protruded from its jaws even while closed. Wisps of corpse mist seeped from its nostrils with each slow exhale.

Corpse Qi poured into its body from every direction, sinking beneath the scales and vanishing as if swallowed by a bottomless abyss.

The aura it emitted was immense, imposing, and ancient, as if even in death, the pressure of a supreme predator couldn’t wane.

Its eyes were opened; two vertical pupils, glowing with murky corpse-light, fixed directly on Varcor Dain or... Ace. There was no mistaking the emotion within them, for they were filled with discontent and reproach.

However, he was focusing on the corpse vessel’s race, unable to help comparing it to the elegant, scaled creatures he had once encountered, for this one was a corpse vessel refined for the Undead path.

Ace’s heart tightened despite his steady expression as he thought of a name, ’A wyvern!’