Chapter 426: An Elite Execution Team (Message Chair Bonus Chapter)
"Slave Trade Guild." He muttered, his face darkening.
His eyes narrowed into thin slits. Cold killing intent flickered deep within his pupils.
"What a pleasant surprise." He sneered.
There was not the slightest trace of panic on his face. Instead, he calmly observed the approaching group through the Bone Mirror.
Their arrival did not surprise him.
He knew the Scorpion Clan and the Slave Trade Guild were in a symbiotic relationship. Both sides benefited from each other.
He had even expected them to send reinforcements right from the beginning. In fact, he had prepared several contingency plans for such an event.
However, thinking about what had happened to their guild in Horn Lizard Town, their lack of presence was understandable.
Their forces had already suffered heavy losses.
The destruction of their hideout. Everything had forced them to divert their attention.
Thus, their delayed arrival made perfect sense.
But now, looking at their appearance, he did not think they were here to support the Scorpion Clan.
They were moving with the precision of a hunting squad.
They were here for him.
A faint smile slowly appeared on Thoren’s face. "So you finally came."
Thoren merely looked at them for a few seconds and commanded the undead Vulture to follow them..
It silently circled above the Slave Trade Guild members without attracting their attention.
Satisfied, Thoren withdrew a portion of his attention.
He turned his head and looked at the undead vanguard squad, and a pleased smile crept onto his face.
Everything had been prepared long ago. No matter which enemy appeared, he had undead waiting for them.
"Go," he commanded.
His calm voice echoed through the mental connection. Three undead covered in cloaks walked out from the sea of the undead army.
At first, their steps were ordinary. Then, they turned into a slow sprint. A few seconds later, they broke into a quick sprint.
The three cloaked undead accelerated astonishingly fast. They cut through the desert wind at dazzling speed, charging toward the west.
West, two kilometers away, the ten Slave Trade Guild members were rushing toward the deafening sounds of the battle.
Their footsteps were swift.
Their movements were disciplined.
Leading the group was a burly man draped in Low Bronze Grade Armor. The heavy armor fit tightly around his muscular body.
Its surface was covered with numerous battle scars. In his right hand was a deadly scythe that seemed to be dripping with fresh blood.
The sharp curved blade reflected the moonlight. Dark dried blood still stained portions of the weapon.
It gave off an ominous feeling.
Around the burly man was a savage aura filled with strong killing intent.
His presence alone forced the others to unconsciously follow behind him. Apart from the burly man, the men behind him were more sinister than the last.
"We’re getting close. We need to be careful," one of them announced.
In his hand was a small animal that looked like a bee. The tiny creature continuously buzzed while circling around his fingers.
Its antennae twitched repeatedly.
It occasionally changed direction as if sensing something invisible.
A Hunter with a deadly tracking ability.
The creature served as his scout. Its senses far surpassed those of ordinary beasts.
Listening to the Hunter, the others tensed, but their gazes remained extremely sharp and their speed increased.
None questioned his judgment.
Yet none of them slowed. Instead, their killing intent quietly intensified as they continued charging toward the battlefield.
Their leader, the burly man, was a Level 38 Warrior. As for the Hunter and the others, they were all Level 37. Such a lineup was enough to shock the Crimson Dune.
Who would have thought the Slave Trade Guild would have such powerful Awakeners under their belt?
This was no ordinary hunting squad. It was an elite execution team. Just as the group descended from the top of a dune, the Hunter raised his hand.
Instantly, the group came to a halt. Their expressions tensed, and a solemn atmosphere descended between them.
The burly leader slowly narrowed his eyes. His hand tightened around the handle of his scythe.
"What is it?" their leader asked in a deep voice.
His voice remained calm. However, everyone could hear the vigilance hidden beneath it.
"I feel some presence coming ahead," the Hunter whispered, his gaze fixed on the distant dune.
The tiny bee circling around his fingers became increasingly restless.
Its wings vibrated rapidly.
The group did not doubt the Hunter.
Without hesitation, they turned their heads, staring in the direction where the Hunter was looking.
Their sharp eyes swept across the endless dunes. For a second, nothing appeared.
The desert remained eerily silent. Only the distant sounds of battle echoed through the wind. But then, each of them could feel a subtle vibration beneath their boots.
It was extremely faint, almost impossible to notice. However, every one of them was an experienced fighter.
That slight vibration immediately put them on guard. Instinctively, each moved a hand toward their weapon and unsheathed it.
They spread out and took battle stances. Each person covered a different direction.
A strange calmness descended between the dune valley. The desert wind continued blowing quietly.
Each held their breath as they felt the vibration increasing with each passing second.
The Hunter’s bee suddenly buzzed frantically.
Its tiny body trembled violently.
Whoosh!
From the sky, the undead Sanguine Vulture descended at a crazy speed impossible for the eyes to follow, leaving a streak of crimson light in its trail.
Its Bronze Grade dagger-lined wings sliced through the desert wind.
The air itself seemed to split apart.
Its terrifying speed produced a sharp whistling sound that echoed across the dune valley.
"Be careful!" the Hunter screamed, sensing the strong emotions from the bee.
Swiss!
However, before anyone could react to his warning, a streak of crimson light flashed before one of them. The crimson streak disappeared almost as soon as it appeared.
No one clearly saw what had happened.
They only felt a violent gust of wind brush past them.
Ahhhhh!
A soul-rending scream escaped from one of them.
An Earth Mage.
His eyes widened in disbelief and his staff slipped from his grasp. He fell to his knees, holding his throat and chest as warm fresh blood gushed out continuously.
Blood flowed rapidly through the gaps between his trembling fingers.
On his chest, a deep gash cut through his throat down to his chest.
The horrifying wound was so deep that his ribs and part of his organs were clearly visible.
His breathing became ragged.
It was bloody and horrifying.
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