The empty space was silent, the air heavy with rising tension.
Lionel and his teammate watched Thoren shift expressions, an evil grin spreading across his face.
This was the expression most of their prey wore when they targeted them.
Watching their nervousness and fear gave them a deep sense of satisfaction. It made them feel as though they were lords over ordinary people.
"Boy, what do you choose?" Lionel asked, unable to hide his sinister grin.
He looked at his men, and instantly they understood his intention. They moved, flanking Thoren on all sides.
This was the first time they had done this, and they had perfected their craft.
No one had ever escaped from their claws and today wouldn’t be any different.
So, they thought.
Thoren could see through their plot, but he was not flustered. He maintained his calm and spoke.
"Why do you target me?"
This was what he could not understand. He had spent only a day in the abyss and hadn’t offended anyone.
Thus, he did not understand why Lionel and the group would target him.
As for them discovering his talent, that should be impossible. He had been cautious throughout his battle.
Right now, he had only summoned two skeletons, and that was still acceptable and shouldn’t warrant him to be targeted.
However, Lionel and his men did not share his thoughts.
Lionel looked at him from head to toe as if he were already looking at a dead man.
"Why do you want to know? You’re already a dead man. What I can tell you is this: in your next life, don’t choose such a crappy occupation." A sadistic grin crept across his face as he moved closer.
"Have you decided? Will you surrender, or what?" His voice dropped a couple of degrees, and his gaze sharpened.
"So, you want to capture me because of my occupation?" Thoren mused, a look of realization crossing his face.
"Enough of this nonsense!" Lionel shouted in impatience and rushed forward with a sinister glint in his eyes.
His men closed in from all sides.
Whoosh!
Before Lionel and his men could realize what was happening, fifty skeletons appeared before them.
The lowest were Level 2 Skeletons; the highest were Level 4 skeletons, which were the majority.
Without hesitation, he commanded the skeletons to attack.
"What?!"
Lionel widened his eyes in disbelief as he quickly stopped his charge.
But the skeletons did not give him time to recover from his shock when ten Level 4 Shadow Cave Bear skeletons attacked him.
"How is this possible?!" Rupert, one of Lionel’s men, shouted as he defended against the skeletons’ claws.
Apart from Lionel, who was a Level 5 awakener, the others were Level 4 awakeners.
Lionel was furious; veins protruded on his forehead under the onslaught of the skeletons. He roared, activating his occupation—a Berserker.
His swing, his broad sword, activated his C-Rank talent: Berserker Rage.
The Berserker Rage increased his strength by 5%. He had used Berserker Rage to overwhelm many of his enemies in the past.
But now, his opponents were mindless skeletons. They knew no fear or pain.
They came on all sides.
Bang! Bang!
His sword shattered two Shadow Cave Bear skeletons, but he did not have a moment of respite as another skeleton’s claw was already on him.
Ahhhh!
The skeleton’s claw ripped through his robe and dug deep into his flesh.
He cried in pain and retreated with trembling legs, but the skeleton closed in, not giving him any chance to recover or take a healing elixir.
Fear and panic crawled across his face as he struggled to defend.
Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!
On the left flank, a young man overwhelmed by the skeletons could not defend himself and was ripped apart by a skeleton claw.
Rupert was covered in perspiration. His sword attacks were fast and swift, shattering many of the skeleton bones.
As a Samurai, his sword strikes were deadly, but against skeletons they could only cut a few bones before he was pinned to the center.
"Noooooo!" he screamed.
He activated his C-Rank talent [Blade Wind Disciple], pushing himself to the limit.
[Gale Draw]
The sword strike was a lightning-fast slash that sent a short wind blade. The strike cleaved a skeleton apart, creating a small opening.
However, before he could move, the small opening had already been closed by two more skeletons.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Although his sword strike was lightning-fast, it could not match the fearless and relentless attack of the skeletons.
Ahhhhhhh!
He was so absorbed in fighting the Level 4 skeletons that he failed to react to the deadly skeleton tail.
The tail pierced his chest like a dagger, lifting him up. He hung by the tail, blood splashing from his mouth. His face pale, full of unwillingness.
Thud!
The Vernomfang Skeleton threw his body to the side as it moved to the next target.
Before Rupert’s death, two people had already been killed, their throats ripped out, dying with wide eyes.
For the others, their situation was grim. They were covered in blood with various injuries.
"P-Please, don’t kill me," one of them shouted.
Fear gnawed at their hearts like a vice. Compared to the others, the skeletons they were battling were Level 3 skeletons, with Level 2 skeletons serving as pressure.
Even then, they were on the brink of death.
When Thoren heard their plea, he did not bat an eye; he focused his attention on a particular direction.
He was looking at Lionel, who lay on the ground with various injuries. His right arm had been severed from his body, and a deep claw wound on his chest bled freely.
Blood gushed from his body like a broken dam. He would have been killed by the skeletons, but Thoren stopped them.
He needed to find out who had targeted him.
The abyss was already dangerous, and if he were being targeted by an unknown group or organization, he needed to be prepared.
Slowly, he walked toward Lionel, his expression unchanged.
Ahhhh! Ahhhh!
A soul-rending cry echoed through the space as members of Lionel’s team were slain.
Lionel watched everything and could not help but shiver.
They had believed Thoren Starfall to be just another common Necromancer; they were wrong.
He was a monster, a devil incarnate.
"If I’d known he was such a monster, I wouldn’t have taken the mission," he thought, but it was too late to regret.
Thoren did not care about his shifting thoughts as he stopped before him.
"Who sent you?" he asked, his voice cold as the grim reaper.
****
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