Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 47: When the Coffin Demands Blood

In another chamber deep within the ancient sacred ground, chaos reigned.

Four awakeners were locked in a desperate battle against six Level 14 Stonewall Tribe Noble Warriors.

Unlike Thoren who could rely on waves of undead minions to absorb damage and overwhelm enemies through numbers.

The four awakeners stood alone.

And they were being crushed.

Steel clashed against stone.

Spears whistled through the air with terrifying precision, each thrust carrying enough force to rupture organs and shatter bones.

"I shouldn’t have entered this damned gate!" one of the awakeners screamed as he barely managed to parry an incoming spear.

The impact sent him stumbling backward.

His arm went numb instantly, the bones in his wrist screaming in protest. A violent shockwave traveled through his body, twisting his organs.

Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he staggered, barely maintaining his footing.

"We— we need to leave!" another shouted in panic.

But his warning came too late.

A spear pierced straight through his left arm.

The force was brutal.

Flesh tore apart as the weapon ripped through muscle and bone, severing the limb completely.

"AAAAHHHH—!"

A shrill, agonized scream echoed through the chamber as his arm hit the stone floor with a wet thud.

The man collapsed, clutching the spurting wound in disbelief, his face contorted in terror and pain.

Despite all four awakeners being Level 13, their combat experience paled in comparison to the Stonewall Tribe nobles.

These were not mere warriors.

They were executioners.

Fear carved itself into the faces of the remaining humans.

Their breathing grew ragged.

Their movements became frantic and sloppy. Panic clouded their judgment as they searched desperately for an escape.

But there was none.

The chamber had sealed itself the moment the battle began.

There was no retreat.

Only death.

"H-Help!" one of them cried as he watched a spear hurtle toward him.

He raised his axe in a desperate attempt to block the strike.

It was useless.

The spear moved faster than his eyes could follow.

THUD!

A guttural sound escaped his throat as the weapon plunged straight into his chest, punching through armor and flesh alike.

His internal organs were pulverized instantly.

His body went limp.

One of the Stonewall Tribe nobles lifted the corpse effortlessly with his spear and carried it toward the massive seventh coffin at the center of the chamber.

With slow, deliberate movements, almost reverent. The noble placed the dead awakener atop the coffin.

Immediately, a horrifying suction force erupted.

The corpse began to collapse inward.

Flesh shriveled.

Blood evaporated.

Bones cracked and twisted as the body was devoured at a visible speed.

In less than three seconds, nothing remained but a pile of dry, lifeless bones.

The massive seventh coffin glowed faintly.

A low, pulsating hum emanated from within, like the beating of a colossal heart.

The Stonewall noble warrior nodded slowly, anticipation flashing through his stone-like eyes.

Then he turned.

Three humans remained.

Their terror was absolute.

"AAAAHHHH—!"

A female scream pierced the chamber as a spear drove cleanly through a woman’s throat.

She was a Water Mage, possessing a C-Rank talent.

She had entered the ancient gate with hope of increasing her strength.

Now, blood poured from her mouth as her eyes widened in disbelief.

She collapsed.

A few seconds later, her body was laid upon the seventh coffin.

Once again, the suction force activated.

Her corpse disintegrated into nothingness.

Not a single drop of blood remained.

Her skeleton clattered onto the stone floor.

The final two awakeners.

A samurai and a knight only held out for mere seconds longer. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Steel rang desperately.

But hope was gone.

They, too, were consumed.

With each sacrifice, the pulsating hum from the seventh coffin grew louder, stronger, more violent.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

Creak.

A long, razor-sharp claw emerged from inside the coffin, forcing the lid aside.

The six Level 14 Stonewall Tribe nobles dropped to their knees instantly.

Their spears struck the ground in unison.

From the coffin rose a towering humanoid figure.

Its presence alone crushed the air.

The being stood nearly two meters tall, its frame powerful and monstrous. A blood-red horn jutted from its forehead, pulsing rhythmically as if alive.

Its face was a grotesque fusion of human and beast.

Its arms ended in massive claws capable of tearing steel apart.

A suffocating pressure flooded the chamber.

[Stonewall Tribe (High Noble)]

[Level: 16]

The High Noble spoke in an ancient tongue.

The six nobles responded immediately, their voices trembling with reverence and worship.

As if answering its will, a hidden door materialized behind the seventh coffin.

Without hesitation, the High Noble stepped forward.

The six followed.

The door slammed shut behind them.

Silence returned to the chamber—as if the massacre had never happened.

Elsewhere.

In another chamber, Arin and three elite members of the Crimson Arc Guild were engaged in a fierce battle against three remaining Level 14 Stonewall Tribe nobles.

Arin’s sword dominated the battlefield.

Each swing carried overwhelming force, the blade tearing through stone and bone alike. His movements were precise, ruthless, and unrelenting.

Against his broadsword, the Stonewall nobles were steadily suppressed.

Their spears cracked.

Their defenses faltered.

Within a minute, all three were slain— their bodies shattered into fragments scattered across the chamber floor.

"Guildmaster... your sword has grown stronger," one elite member said, awe and admiration clear in his voice.

Arin did not respond.

His gaze was locked onto the seventh coffin.

"Don’t spout nonsense," he said coldly. "We’re not out of danger yet."

The elite members stiffened instantly, their expressions sobering.

Arin approached the coffin cautiously, his grip tightening around his sword.

His heart pounded violently.

Every instinct screamed danger.

Creak.

The coffin lid shifted.

Suddenly.

WHOOSH!

A claw slashed toward him.

Arin reacted instantly.

His sword flashed.

A blur.

A weak, distorted howl echoed as a thin humanoid figure struggled out of the coffin, its aura unstable, its horn flickering weakly.

Arin did not hesitate.

His blade descended.

The creature screamed, unwilling, furious and desperate.

Then silent.

His body collapsed.

Dead.

Arin exhaled slowly, wiping sweat from his brow.

"That was close..." he murmured.

If he had reacted even a fraction slower, the outcome would have been very different.

"Search the chamber," he ordered.

"Guildmaster! I found something!"

Arin turned sharply.

In the elite member’s hand was a deep brown scroll.

[Skill Scroll]

Arin’s breath caught.

His eyes widened.

Skill Scrolls existed only on higher floors of the Abyss.

Yet here it was.

Without hesitation, he stored it away.

"News of this must not leave this chamber...else..." His face grim.

****

[AN: Please support this book with your golden tickets and power stones.]