Sprawling on the muddy floor, Cressida was groaning in unbearable pain. Beside her lay the previously confident Berserker, now a broken shell of a man.

He was crying in agony, his face deathly pale from blood loss. He had lost his right hand and his left leg completely.

On his chest was a ghastly blade cut that showed his shattered ribs and all his exposed organs.

Every breath was as difficult as ascending to the heavens themselves.

’I should not have come on this mission,’ was his only coherent thought.

Everyone had learned about the horror of the Grim Reaper through rumors and reports. But since none had ever experienced his terror firsthand, they did not understand the true nightmare they were about to confront.

Until now.

Looking at the three red moons hanging in the sky, mocking his hapless situation, he could not help but sigh heavily.

He knew that his greatest misfortune was going against such an unstoppable calamity.

Just as he was waiting for death to claim him, hurried footsteps came from the distance.

The ground trembled under their heavy feet. Their movement and the aura around them were vastly different from the humans who had fallen before.

When they appeared in his fading vision, they were not human at all. They were Jackal Beastmen.

Each one was clad in crude made armor while holding a long, sharp spear in their hands.

Leading them was a Jackal Beastman with an intimidating presence. His aura alone drained every ounce of courage from the surrounding air.

"Stop," he commanded in broken human language.

When Cressida heard this command, her bloody face regained a hint of desperate smile.

’Is it possible that I am not going to die today?’ she thought, and her heart could not help but race with fragile hope.

She had lost an arm, but to her, she did not care about that loss. She was a spell caster. As long as she could hold a staff in her hand and chant the words, she would be as powerful as before.

While she was lost in her desperate fantasy, Thoren looked at the newcomers without any change in his cold expression.

"Are you trying to stop me?" he asked calmly.

His voice was devoid of any emotion. No one could tell if he was enraged or not.

"B-By...the order of the Chief.... All fighting must stop. You...have gone...against the rule of the town...and you..." The Jackal Beastmen guard captain said slowly.

His human tongue was not as fluent as the Jackal Chief.

"Pay the price for...trans...gression. Follow now...and your punishment...might...be reduced..." He finished.

When Cressida heard this, the faint smile on her face vanished instantly.

’Are they completely nuts?’ she thought desperately.

’Follow you? How can the Grim Reaper ever follow you?’

’This is insane. I am dead,’ she realized with finality.

Just as she guessed, the ten undead servants turned their full attention toward the Jackal Beastmen Guard.

Seeing this, the Jackal Beastmen guards were not for one moment intimidated. They looked at Thoren with open hostility and disdain.

They were Jackal Beastmen. Their strength and power were not something weak humans could compare with.

Thus, they firmly believed they would not lose to ten unknown figures in black robes.

So they foolishly thought.

"Kill," the Jackal Beastmen Guard captain shouted, raising his bone club high.

Unlike humans who would still try to pressure Thoren with the might of their Chief, the Jackal Beastmen were brutally straightforward.

Since Thoren had not followed their order, they would capture him by force and turn him into their prisoner.

Ting!

Perhaps they were too high on their pedestal to realize that their enemy was unlike any enemy they had ever encountered before.

When the small bell chimed once again, the Jackal Beastmen guards’ steps faltered, and many staggered in confusion.

Their hearts shook violently, and their souls trembled with ancient fear. But the terror was far from over.

Ting!

The bell shook once again, sending another pulse of soul rending energy through the air.

Ahhh!

Many of the Jackal Beastmen screamed in agony, holding their heads and dropping their weapons.

They gnashed their serrated teeth, wishing they could dig deep into their own bodies and remove their souls, the very source of their torment.

Their thick muscles spasmed vehemently, and blood ran amok from their noses and ears.

But the terror was still far from over. Just as they were trying desperately to regain their shattered sanity, the undead servants arrived before them.

Whoosh!

A head rolled up into the sky for a couple of seconds before it fell to the ground, creating a wet, sickening thud.

Thud!

The Jackal Beastmen guard’s headless body fell directly to the ground, blood gushing out from his neck like a broken dam.

In seconds, the muddy ground was filled with fresh, pooling blood.

Yet the battle was far from over.

Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!

"@S#$&$FHE$$#$W$#"

"~%^&*()D#%^#%^"

The Jackal Beastmen guards screamed and shouted in their guttural tongue, cursing and begging.

But what welcomed them was the cold, deadly blade of the undead servants.

In less than a minute, all the Jackal Beastmen guards were lying on the ground, their bodies cut into bloody, unrecognizable pieces.

For the first time in this town, both humans and Jackal Beastmen felt their very souls tremble in terror.

Brutal.

Merciless.

Savage.

Those were the words that popped into the minds of the watching humans.

As for the Jackal Beastmen watching the bloody battle from a distance, they shivered uncontrollably. All their courage and pride were gone in an instant.

Before this human with deep blue eyes, all their pride meant absolutely nothing.

Thud! Thud!

One of the undead servants walked toward Cressida, who was now covered in both human and Jackal Beastmen blood. The servant lifted her effortlessly from the ground.

With his captive secure, Thoren departed in slow, steady steps. The ten undead servants walked silently behind him, their weapons still dripping with fresh blood.

The street fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the wet footsteps leaving the scene of carnage.

No one followed.

No one dared.

The Grim Reaper had claimed his prize, and the town would never forget what they had witnessed today.

****

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