Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 31: Arin Valeheart

"And you must be?" Thoren asked, his gaze steady and unreadable, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

The tall young man standing opposite him smiled faintly, a calm and inviting expression resting on his sharp features. "Arin Valeheart," he replied smoothly. "Guildmaster of the Crimson Arc Guild—this floor’s branch, to be precise."

Thoren paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes flickering with mild surprise before settling once more.

Just yesterday, one of their party captains had approached him with an invitation.

Today, the man standing before him was the one who commanded the entire guild presence on this floor.

As he studied Arin more closely, he noticed something unusual. The man possessed the typical bearing of a guildmaster. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Straight-backed posture, composed demeanor, and an air of authority that came naturally rather than forcefully.

Yet there was no arrogance in his smile, no concealed hostility lurking beneath polite words.

It felt... genuine.

That alone set him apart from many others.

His gaze drifted briefly to the surrounding guild members. They stood alert, weapons ready, formation tight.

However, despite their discipline, many of their eyes betrayed something else entirely.

Awe.

Fear.

And something close to reverence.

They were staring at him as if he were a monster but not the kind that inspired hatred.

Rather, the kind spoken of in hushed voices, one that rewrote common sense and shattered expectations.

"I suppose you’ve already heard the news," Thoren said calmly, breaking the silence.

"Indeed," Arin replied with a nod. "We received confirmation roughly an hour ago. Still... I never expected we’d encounter you so soon."

His gaze involuntarily shifted toward the undead Mad Dog Mistveils standing behind Thoren like a silent legion.

Their fog-wreathed bodies loomed menacingly, their hollow eyes glowing with soul fire.

Even Arin, a seasoned Level 15 swordsman, felt a chill creep up his spine.

He swallowed subtly.

’So the rumors were true,’ Arin thought grimly.

What unsettled him the most wasn’t merely that Thoren had survived the Lost Fog.

it was what he had brought back with him.

Mad Dog Mistveils were infamous.

Savage.

Ruthless.

Borderline uncontrollable.

They were beasts that even coordinated guild expeditions struggled to handle.

Arin himself had personally led multiple teams into the Lost Fog, attempting to carve out safe paths and help his guild members advance. The result had been disastrous.

The ferocity of the Mad Dog Mistveils far exceeded expectations.

They attacked relentlessly, ignoring injuries, tearing through formations with maddened bloodlust.

Just that single campaign had cost the Crimson Arc Guild dozens of skilled awakeners.

In the end...

They had fled the Lost Fog battered and humiliated, their confidence shattered.

And yet.

Here stood Thoren Starfall, walking out of that same place as if it were his backyard, surrounded by undead versions of the very beasts that had forced entire guilds to retreat.

The contrast was staggering.

"Thoren," Arin said suddenly, his voice turning serious, shedding all casual warmth. "Join our guild."

The abruptness of the offer caused a ripple of shock among the surrounding guild members.

Arin continued, his tone resolute. "If you do, the Federation’s pressure will be dealt with immediately. Many fear them but the Five Guilds do not. With us backing you, no one will dare move against you openly."

He took a step closer. "We will provide you with anything you need. Resources, protection, information. And when you advance to the second floor in the future, our main branch will take you in without question. You will have a shield from the moment you arrive."

Thoren listened quietly, his expression unchanged.

When Arin finished, Thoren shook his head.

"I appreciate the invitation," he said calmly, "but I’ll have to refuse."

The words were simple, but firm.

"I’ve already declined a similar offer from one of your party captains," Thoren continued.

"For now, I have no interest in joining any guild. If that changes in the future, I’ll consider your offer."

Arin blinked, clearly taken aback not by the refusal itself, but by how effortlessly it was delivered.

"Oh?" His interest was piqued. "Which captain?"

Thoren thought briefly. "I believe his name was Orven."

"Oh!" A beautiful young woman standing behind Arin spoke up, her eyes widening slightly. "I know him."

"Good," Arin said, turning his head toward her. "When we return, I want to see him."

"Yes, Guildmaster," she replied, nodding respectfully.

Arin turned back to Thoren, his smile returning, unchanged. "No problem. Should you change your mind, the Crimson Arc Guild will always welcome you."

"Alright," Thoren nodded.

His impression of the guild improved once again.

No coercion.

No veiled threats.

Just a genuine offer, freely given and freely withdrawn.

"Guildmaster," Thoren said after a brief pause, "may I ask where exactly we are?"

Arin’s brows rose in surprise. "You don’t know?"

The surrounding guild members stiffened, staring at Thoren in disbelief.

Thoren shook his head. "I don’t. After walking through the night, I found myself at the boundary of the fog. When I came out..."

"I see," Arin murmured, understanding dawning on his face.

Night within the abyss was notoriously strange.

Spatial distortions, shifting paths, inexplicable transitions.

It was well known among experienced awakeners.

"That explains it," Arin said gravely. "You’re in the Uncharted Territory."

He gestured broadly. "This is the real abyss. Everything you’ve seen before can be considered a novice zone."

"Here," he continued, "life and death carry little meaning."

Even without the explanation, Thoren had already sensed the difference.

The oppressive atmosphere, the lingering pressure, the sheer scale of destruction.

It was unlike anything near the town.

"No one knows how vast the Uncharted Territory truly is," Arin went on.

"Some rumors claim it connects directly to the second floor of the abyss. Whether that’s true or not remains unknown."

He paused before adding, "The Uncharted Territory is unstable. It changes constantly. Anyone entering without preparation is courting death."

Thoren listened silently.

Arin’s openness surprised him.

As a top guildmaster, Arin had no obligation to share this information.

Yet he did so without hesitation.

"Why don’t we explore this area together?" Arin suggested.

The words stunned everyone present.

"If you don’t mind," Thoren replied calmly.

"Why would I mind?" Arin chuckled lightly. "Who knows? We might need your assistance."

Though joking, Arin knew the truth.

As a Level 15 swordsman, he rarely needed help, but Thoren was anything but ordinary.

The guild members exchanged looks of disbelief and envy. They had struggled for months to earn their place in such expeditions.

And Thoren?

He had been invited effortlessly.

Yet when their eyes fell upon the undead Mad Dog Mistveils, reality sank in.

Envy gave way to acceptance.

Thoren Starfall stood on an entirely different level.

Unaware of their thoughts, Thoren walked beside Arin, his undead minions advancing ahead like imperial guards.

As they approached the massive skeletal remains embedded in the ground, an overwhelming pressure washed over him.

"Do you feel it?" Arin asked quietly.

Thoren nodded, his gaze fixed on the colossal skeleton.

’What level was this thing when it was alive...?’ He thought.

Just then.

The scene before them shifted.

******