The sound of clashing metal and deathly howls echoed across the ruins of the shattered city. Smoke rose from crumbling buildings, forming a thin mist mixed with the acrid stench of blood and burning flesh. The sharp, rotten scent of orc blood blended with the thick air of death, as if the whole place had become an altar of slaughter.
From the center of this chaos, a lone figure walked slowly.
Her black gown flowed, untouched by even a drop of blood, despite the corpses scattered around her. Her dark red eyes radiated both arrogance and deadly threat.
Graceful. Cold. And deadly.
Her chains kept dancing in the air.
Every movement was not just an attack—it was a dance of death.
Elegance in Chaos WHIRRR!! CRACK! SPLACK!!
The black chains spun in a spiral formation, slicing through the air, then pierced an orc from beneath its jaw and burst out the top of its skull. The crunch of shattering bone sounded like breaking twigs.
Another was choked, then slammed into the ground, its body dragged across the rubble before being impaled from all sides by a dozen more chains. The body spasmed briefly... then went still.
[Chain Technique – Form 4: Guillotine Blossom]
ZRAK!! ZRAK!! SHHRRRK!!
The chains crossed into jagged petals, then closed like a flower of death—and...
A black explosion shattered the target’s flesh and bone from within. The orc’s green blood sprayed like a foul fountain, splattering walls and floors of the ruins.
One Orc Warrior still stood. His body was covered in wounds—torn skin, swollen eyes, broken ribs poking out—but he kept roaring and attacking. His eyes glowed a bright red, controlled by [Berserk Command].
"They’re... getting stronger? Even though they should be dying," Sylvia muttered, her lips twitching slightly. Her annoyed tone was soft, yet laced with quiet fury.
On the other side, dark magic began corroding the ground. From the cracks emerged black, withered branches, sprouting up like claws from hell.
[Netherwood – Nether Branches]
The branches stabbed deep into orc legs and chests, stopping them like spears sprouting from the underworld.
Orcs were still orcs.
They went into even more of a frenzy when their HP dropped below half. Worse still, negative effects like poison, internal injuries, and minor curses were quickly healed by the Orc Priestesses and Orc Mages.
"Healing themselves and their allies while still attacking?"
Sylvia snapped her fingers and paused. She let out a soft sigh, almost forgetting that...
"...I have an army too."
Fine, invisible threads extended from her body, connecting with the ground and air. Mental signals flowed through the death network.
The Queen of Death opened her mind.
Ten of her elite Rank 2 zombies, who had been standing in the distance unsure whether to help or not, now looked pleased as their queen summoned them. Their eyes glowed a faint red.
And... they activated their subordinate control networks.
From all over the dead city, heavy footsteps, dragging limbs, and low growls began to echo.
KRAK-KREK-KREK... SLURPP... GRAHHH!!!
Hordes of zombies began pouring in from alleys, drains, ruins, even from behind the rubble.
Not one... not two...
"How many are there?"
"...Even I don’t know," Sylvia admitted, briefly surprised at the flood of undead answering her call.
The streets turned into a flood of rotting bodies, with blank stares and mindless growls. Rank 0, Rank 1—they all responded to the Queen’s summons.
The orc warriors faltered. They could kill these zombies—beheading them, smashing their chests—but...
There were simply too many.
For every zombie that fell, three more emerged, clawing from below, grabbing ankles, biting, dragging them down.
An Orc Archer fell, pulled beneath the rubble by six zombies and...
"Let’s take out the support first," Sylvia ordered telepathically.
She leapt high and landed on a still-standing rooftop. The night wind swept through her jet-black hair.
The ten elite zombies silently dispersed.
Their targets: Orc Mages, Orc Priestesses, Orc Archers.
One Mage exploded in a blast of black chains from underground.
A Priestess’s neck snapped, struck from behind by a horned zombie like a dark predator.
She descended upon three healers and a mage.
[Chain Technique – Form 3: Death Spiral]
Chains spun into a high spiral, engulfing them in a storm of spikes and poison.
"...if you don’t have a body."
The mage screamed... then melted away.
Without support, the Orc Warriors began to struggle.
No more buffs from mages.
Arrows from archers grew scarce—they were now being hunted by elite zombies.
Confidence turned into fear.
Advance turned into retreat.
Those who couldn’t flee, drowned in the tsunami of rotting limbs and grasping hands.
Sylvia raised her head and looked up at the night sky, now overcast and red from the fire and blood below.
"Now then, who has the numbers advantage, hmm?"
In the distance, the portal still stood.
But the light within it began to dim... flickering... as if holding something back.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP...
A dark aura blanketed the area. Even Sylvia’s zombies stopped moving briefly, as if their bodies instinctively recognized something far stronger was approaching.
"This aura... it’s not normal..."
From the shadow within the portal, two crimson eyes glowed—like coals in a mist.
Then a deep, harsh voice rumbled out, like stone grinding...
"Grrrhh... ,*****...***********."
The language... was unknown.
But its killing intent was unmistakable.