Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 36: The Illusion of Escape

Stunned

The knight stared at his fallen partner, his pupils shrinking as if his mind refused to accept what his eyes were showing him.

His sword slipped from his grasp and clattered weakly against the stone floor.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this outcome.

Three Level 13 awakeners, elites chosen by the guild, reduced to corpses by a necromancer who had only recently stepped into the abyss.

A rookie.

Yet here they were.

Dead.

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

A shudder ran through his body, violent and uncontrollable, as realization finally crashed down on him like a collapsing wall.

This wasn’t luck.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

This wasn’t some clever trick that could be dismissed after the fact.

This was absolute domination.

The knight staggered backward, nearly losing his footing.

He raised his left hand and pressed it hard against his temple, as if he could physically restrain the violent dizziness tearing through his skull.

His vision swam.

The world tilted.

’I need to get out of here.’

The thought screamed through his mind, raw and desperate.

’This... this isn’t necromancy.’

’This is insane.’

’This is demonic.’

Cold fear gnawed at his heart, chewing through his pride and arrogance without mercy.

The sense of superiority he had carried since entering the ancient city shattered completely, replaced by suffocating dread.

They had thought they were the hunters.

They had believed they had cornered him.

A trapped prey.

A helpless necromancer clutching secrets he didn’t deserve to wield.

But they were wrong.

So terribly wrong.

From the very beginning, Thoren had never fallen into their scheme.

He had seen through it.

Understood it.

Accepted it.

He had merely played along.

Baiting them.

Waiting.

Watching.

Allowing them to grow bolder, more confident, more reckless, until they revealed every card in their hand.

And when they finally believed they had seen everything...

He showed them who truly controlled the board.

The knight turned and ran.

He didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t look back.

He abandoned all dignity, all pride, all thoughts of revenge in favor of one desperate goal—escape.

What he failed to realize, however, was that behind him, the fallen illusionist was slowly rising to her feet.

Her body jerked unnaturally as necromantic energy coursed through it.

[Undead Human Illusionist]

[Level: 13]

[Trait: Mirror Phantom Image]

Her face was pale, drained of all life, her features stiff and hollow.

Yellowish soul fire burned within her empty eyes, flickering with eerie intelligence.

She turned her head slowly.

Then she raised her hand.

Unseen threads of illusion spread outward once more.

Meanwhile, unaware of everything unfolding behind him, the knight burst out of the temple hall and stumbled onto the ancient street.

He turned sharply, his chest heaving, and glared back at Thoren, hatred burning in his eyes.

"Don’t think this is over!" he shouted, his voice hoarse.

He continued retreating, pointing his sword accusingly.

"When we meet again... that’s the day I make you pay for everything you did today!"

His lips twisted into a venomous sneer.

"You can’t keep your little secret forever. Sooner or later, it’ll belong to my guild."

Thoren’s eyes narrowed slightly.

That was what he had been waiting for.

"Oh?" Thoren asked casually, his tone light, almost bored. "And what is the name of your guild?"

The knight halted.

A confident smirk spread across his face, arrogance momentarily pushing fear aside.

"Why?" he scoffed. "Do you want to attack my guild? How naïve can you be?"

He laughed harshly.

"With your pathetic strength, you think you can challenge one of the top five guilds? You’re not just evil...you’re delusional."

He raised his chin proudly.

"But fine. I want you to try. My guild is the Silver Crest Guild. Come. Let’s see if your little minions can save you then."

He turned, convinced of his safety now that he was outside the temple.

"So, it’s the Silver Crest Guild," Thoren murmured softly.

He nodded once.

"That’s all I needed to know."

The knight frowned.

"What?" he began.

"You can die now," Thoren continued calmly, his gaze cold and unfeeling. "And join my undead."

The knight froze.

"Huh?"

A heartbeat passed.

Then.

Slash.

An undead human suddenly materialized in front of him, its blade plunging straight into his chest with brutal precision.

"Ahhhh!"

A guttural scream tore from the knight’s throat. His eyes widened in pure horror as he stared down at the sword buried deep within his heart.

The face staring back at him was painfully familiar.

It was his former partner.

Shock.

Disbelief.

Confusion.

’How... is this possible...?’

A panel flashed before his fading vision.

[Undead Human Warrior]

[Level: 13]

[Trait: Raging Arc Slash]

Thud.

The knight collapsed to the ground, his consciousness unraveling as the world around him distorted.

The street.

The sky.

The escape.

All of it crumbled like shattered glass.

When his vision cleared, he realized the truth.

He had never left the temple.

He was still standing within the fog-filled hall.

Everything he had seen, his escape, his threats, his confidence, had been nothing more than illusion.

The final gift from his former teammate.

Thoren watched the knight’s lifeless body fall without any change in expression.

To him, this was merely another outcome.

Another confirmation.

Despite commanding thousands of undead within his Undead Space, Thoren had never believed in overwhelming his enemies with sheer numbers alone.

That was crude.

Wasteful.

Predictable.

Instead, he preferred precision.

Control.

He used the minimum force required to secure victory while hiding his true strength.

This allowed anyone observing him, from guilds to hidden factions to believe they had seen the extent of his power.

And once they believed that...

They would underestimate him.

They would grow greedy.

They would make mistakes.

Just like these three had.

[Undead Summoning.]

[Bone Manipulation.]

Necromantic energy surged.

The knight’s corpse trembled, then slowly rose to its feet.

Bone shifted and cracked as flesh receded, reforming into something new.

[Skeleton Human Knight]

[Level: 13]

[Trait: Radiant Cleave Strike]

Three Level 13 awakeners.

Three new undead servants.

They had come seeking his secrets.

Instead, they had become part of them.

With three Level 13 skeletons added to his undead minions, Thoren’s confidence deepened.

"Now," he murmured, "I don’t have to worry about this ancient city...at least not yet."

Notifications chimed softly.

[Experience Gained: +1170]

[Summoned Entities: Experience Gained +585]

[Spirit +0.78, Copper Coins +1500]

Thoren smiled faintly.

"I need more fools like you," he said with a quiet chuckle.

He withdrew most of his undead, leaving only a handful of Level 7 and 8 Undead Mad Dogs behind.

A deliberate choice.

An obvious trap.

If someone was watching...

Let them see only this.

After setting the stage, he searched the temple thoroughly.

Unfortunately, it yielded nothing of value. The path leading upward was sealed tight, resistant to brute force.

With no other options, he exited the temple and returned to the ancient street.

And immediately, that feeling returned.

The sensation of unseen eyes boring into his back.

"Damn it," he cursed softly.

He hated it.

Despised it.

Yet there was nothing he could do.

The ancient city was watching him.

Thoren tightened his grip on his weapon and headed deeper into the ruins.

"What will come," he muttered calmly, "will come."