Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 35: When Death Laughs in the Dark

Present Time

Thoren stood calmly in the center of the ruined hall, a faint smirk still playing at the corner of his lips.

In the past, facing three Level 13 awakeners at once would have been enough to make his heart pound and his nerves screaming of danger.

But now...

Now, he felt nothing but anticipation.

"Just die!" the knight roared.

The Level 13 knight’s face twisted with fury as his gaze locked onto the mocking smile on Thoren’s face.

To him, that smirk was an unforgivable insult, a declaration that Thoren did not see them as threats.

He raised his sword high.

The blade descended in a blinding arc.

It was impossibly fast, leaving behind a shimmering afterimage as it cut through the air.

Bang!

The undead Level 8 Mad Dog Mistveil standing protectively before Thoren was cleaved cleanly in two.

Its body split apart, the soul fire in its eyes extinguishing instantly as its remains collapsed onto the gleaming tiles.

The knight stepped forward, intent on closing the distance and delivering a killing blow to Thoren himself.

But before he could take a second step.

Twenty undead Level 8 Mad Dog Mistveils materialized in front of Thoren, their forms emerging from swirling fog like beasts crawling out of a nightmare.

"Attack," Thoren commanded coldly.

His voice was calm. Detached.

Howl!

The undead Mad Dogs responded instantly.

Their howls echoed through the hall as they surged forward with savage ferocity, fangs bared and claws flashing.

The initiative shifted in an instant.

The illusionist instinctively retreated, her brows knitting together as unease crept into her chest.

Meanwhile, the Level 13 warrior stepped forward instead, his expression darkening.

"Let’s see how many undead servants you can really have," he muttered.

He raised his sword and struck.

"Raging Arc Slash!"

Bang! Bang!

Wide arcs of destructive force tore through the charging undead. With every swing, an undead Mad Dog was split apart, its body torn in two and cast aside.

Beside him, the knight wore a disdainful expression as he hacked down the undead servants with ruthless efficiency.

His sword danced, precise and lethal, cutting down the Mad Dogs one after another.

To them, the undead posed no real threat.

Each Mad Dog fell with a single strike.

But what they failed to realize.

What neither of them noticed in their confidence was the subtle yet terrifying change in the environment.

The air grew colder.

Thick fog began to seep into the hall.

At first, it was barely noticeable. A faint mist appeared in the hall.

Then it thickened.

Thoren stood unmoving at the center of it all, like an unshakable general surveying a battlefield.

His gaze was sharp, calculating, as he continued to summon more undead Mad Dog Mistveils without pause.

One batch after another.

As if his reserves were endless.

At the same time, he summoned another kind of undead.

Undead Hollow Breath Leeches.

Invisible to ordinary perception, they blended seamlessly into the spreading fog, drifting silently above and around the two arrogant Level 13 awakeners.

They did not attack. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

They did not make a sound.

They simply began to siphon.

The female illusionist’s expression shifted as unease blossomed into dread.

Her brows furrowed deeply.

"How is this possible...?" she muttered, her voice trembling despite her efforts to stay calm.

She had heard rumors, whispers of Thoren commanding dozens of undead but she had dismissed them as mere exaggerations.

But now, standing in a hall flooded with undead Mad Dogs, she felt a chill run down her spine.

"These must be all his undead servants," she said, forcing herself to speak, clinging desperately to the idea. "He can’t have more than this."

Yet even as she said the words, doubt gnawed at her.

She was an illusionist.

She was not built for direct combat.

If her partners failed to kill Thoren...

She did not dare imagine what awaited her.

"I must do something..." she whispered.

Her eyes hardened as she began weaving mana into a complex illusion.

"Mirror Phantom Image."

The illusion surged outward.

At the same moment, Thoren felt a sharp tug on his mental strength, like invisible hooks digging into his consciousness.

He reacted instantly.

Without hesitation, he summoned his Illusory Floating Lantern.

The moment the lantern appeared, its eerie glow washing over him, the illusion shattered like fragile glass.

The false images dissolved into nothingness, leaving reality bare and exposed.

Thoren’s gaze snapped toward the illusionist.

Their eyes met.

Her blood ran cold.

His face was utterly devoid of emotion.

"I planned to deal with you last," he said softly, his voice chilling. "But now..."

He sneered.

Whoosh!

Two Level 10 Assassin Skeletons emerged silently from the fog, their forms dissolving into mist almost as soon as they appeared.

The illusionist, however, believed her spell had already succeeded.

She allowed herself a smug smile.

"Hmph. A rookie will always be a rookie," she sneered.

While she indulged in false confidence, the knight and warrior were growing increasingly frustrated.

"How many undead do you have?" the warrior growled as his sword split yet another Mad Dog in two.

For every one they destroyed, two more took its place.

It was as if the undead were multiplying.

The knight clenched his jaw. "I don’t believe you can keep this up forever."

He sneered viciously. "After we capture you, I’ll force your secrets out of your mouth."

He raised his sword.

"Iron Valor Slash!"

His blade flashed.

Another undead Mad Dog was annihilated in a single strike.

Against the two Level 13 awakeners, the undead Mad Dogs were nothing more than disposable pawns.

Or so they believed.

Ahhhhh!

A soul-piercing scream echoed through the hall.

The sound was wet.

Final.

Both the knight and the warrior froze mid-motion.

They turned sharply toward the source of the scream.

The illusionist lay sprawled on the stone floor, blood pooling beneath her body.

Her neck had been severed cleanly, and a deep, brutal gash split her chest open.

Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

"What happened?!" the warrior shouted, veins bulging at his temples.

The knight said nothing.

His gaze darted across the hall.

The fog had thickened further, obscuring their vision. Even with their high levels, their sight was limited.

Cold dread crept into his heart.

’What killed her...?’

His grip tightened on his sword.

"Are there others hiding in this temple?" he muttered.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

They had chosen this place to trap Thoren.

But now...

It felt like they were the ones being hunted.

Before either of them could process the realization.

The undead Mad Dogs lunged again.

"Get lost!" the warrior roared, fury overtaking fear.

"Fury Break Cut!"

Bang!

Three undead Mad Dogs were blown apart, their bodies shattered mid-air.

But then.

Huh!

The warrior staggered.

His breath came out ragged.

He swayed.

"What... what’s happening...?" he gasped.

A crushing dizziness overtook him, his limbs suddenly heavy.

His strength was draining.

Rapidly.

Looking at him, the knight frowned. "What’s wrong with you?"

"I—I don’t know..." the warrior stammered, his voice trailing off.

Now even the knight understood.

Something was terribly wrong.

His gaze snapped to Thoren.

"You did this!" he screamed. "I’ll kill you!"

He charged.

"Radiant Cleave Strike!"

Whoosh!

Two arrows burst from the fog.

The knight’s eyes widened.

He twisted his strike mid-motion, barely parrying one arrow and narrowly dodging the second.

’That was close!’

But before he could recover.

A wave of weakness washed over him.

His breathing grew labored.

His vision blurred.

"T-This..." his heart skipped.

A deep sense of dread consumed him.

Ahhhh!

Another scream tore through the hall.

The warrior collapsed to his knees, blood pouring from countless deep wounds. His knees were severed, his body trembling violently.

"H-Help...!" he cried weakly.

Before the plea could finish.

An assassin skeleton appeared behind him and....

Slash.

Thud.

The warrior’s body hit the ground, a gaping hole in his chest.

******