Chapter 429: The Undead Blood Sorcerer. (Bonus Chapter)
Previously, he thought it was because they were already dead. That had been the only explanation his mind could accept.
But now, he realized that was not the case.
The terrifying feeling surrounding these undead had nothing to do with them being undead.
It was something far deeper.
Far more sinister.
From the ground, blood began to gather. Thin crimson streams seeped out from beneath the desert sand.
Some originated from the corpses scattered around the battlefield. Others appeared to emerge directly from the crimson earth itself.
Watching the blood rise from the desert, the Hunter and the Healer stumbled backward.
Their faces turned pale.
Their breathing became increasingly erratic. Cold sweat dripped continuously from their foreheads.
They looked around, trying to find out what was causing it, but they found nothing.
There was no caster.
No visible enemy.
Only the ever-growing sea of floating blood.
"W-What is..." the Berserker stuttered, taking a step back.
His grip around his battle axe loosened slightly.
His confidence had completely vanished.
With the armor protecting the undead Garron, they found it hard to take it down quickly.
And now, with the strange blood rising from the ground. Fear gripped their hearts and they could hear death whispering into their ears.
The crimson droplets slowly floated upward.
They gathered together.
Swirling.
Rotating.
Growing larger with every passing second.
Whoosh!
From the sky, the undead Sanguine Vulture descended with breathtaking speed, appearing behind the Healer.
Swiss!
Ahhhhh!
The Healer screamed as she was sent forward. Her protector, a Tank, did not even see what happened.
He instinctively turned around after hearing the scream.
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The Healer crashed heavily to the ground, a deep gash from the back of her neck down to her lower back was visible.
The horrifying wound split through flesh and armor alike.
Warm blood gushed out from the ghastly injury, but before the blood could sink into the desert ground, it floated into the air.
It was as though an invisible force had seized control of every single drop.
The floating blood slowly merged with the surrounding blood currents.
With the fresh blood adding to the rising blood storm, the blood storm became even more terrifying.
It expanded in every direction.
An indescribable pressure descended upon the battlefield.
"W-We need to get out of here," the Hunter muttered, his lips trembling.
His voice was barely audible.
His hands shook uncontrollably.
His mind was broken.
Every instinct he possessed screamed at him to flee. Right now, he did not care about the Guild mission or not.
Looking at the blood storm, every hair on his body stood on end. He felt as though an invisible pair of eyes were watching him from within the swirling blood.
The suffocating pressure only continued to increase. The Swordsman and the Berserker lost any interest in fighting as they retreated.
Their faces drained of color.
Their hearts pounded violently inside their chests.
"T-That is the..." the Berserker said, his lips trembling, unable to complete his statement.
His eyes remained fixed on the terrifying blood storm.
Recognition slowly replaced his confusion.
"Youg Lord," the Swordsman answered.
His expression was equally grim.
As inner members of the Slave Trade Guild, they knew very well how terrifying their Young Lord’s power was.
They had witnessed it before.
They had seen rivers of blood obey his commands.
They had seen enemies torn apart beneath an overwhelming blood storm.
How could they not be scared?
Even their captain, who was locked in a deadly battle with the undead Garron, was scared silly. His confidence had completely disappeared.
The determination that had filled his eyes moments ago was replaced by naked fear.
’I need to get out of here,’ he cried in his mind.
Every instinct within him screamed for survival. He no longer cared about completing the mission.
However, before either he or the others could escape into the desert.
The rising blood storm turned into countless weapons, with various beast heads appearing inside the blood storm.
Countless blood-forged weapons rotated violently within the storm.
Between them, terrifying beast heads continuously emerged.
Each beast head opened its massive jaws and let out silent roars that sent chills down everyone’s spine.
The blood storm howled fiercely and moved. Its deafening howl echoed across the entire desert valley.
Swoosh!
Like a fierce beast, the blood storm moved at breathtaking speed toward the escaping Slave Trade Guild members.
Its speed was terrifying.
The distance between them vanished almost instantly.
"Noooo... Noooo!" the Hunter screamed, noticing the blood storm behind him.
His face twisted with absolute terror.
He desperately pushed his legs faster.
His breathing became chaotic.
Ahhhhhhhh!
His body was sliced into pieces and devoured by the blood storm.
Dozens of crimson weapons passed through him simultaneously. Everything shattered apart before disappearing into the swirling blood.
Not even a fragment remained.
Without stopping, the blood storm moved toward its second target. Its momentum only became more violent.
"I surrender!"
"I surrender..." the Berserker screamed, throwing away his axe and falling to his knees.
The heavy weapon landed beside him with a dull thud. He completely abandoned any thought of resisting.
He stared at the horrifying blood storm, his face white. His entire body trembled uncontrollably.
Tears streamed down his face.
’Why did I choose this mission?’
His face filled with regret and unwillingness. He thought about everything he still wished to accomplish.
Ahhhhh!
His body was devoured, leaving nothing behind. The blood storm swallowed him completely.
Not even his armor escaped.
Devouring two bodies, the blood storm grew taller and fiercer. The countless blood weapons became even denser.
The beast heads roared more violently and its oppressive aura spread throughout the battlefield.
In the distance, their Leader was pushing his speed to the limit, hoping to escape.
Every ounce of strength within his body erupted. His muscles screamed under the strain.
He refused to look back.
Strangely enough, he noticed blood coming out of his mouth and nose, then his eyes and ears.
Warm blood flowed uncontrollably.
His vision gradually turned crimson.
’What is happening?’
’This can’t be...’
His breathing became ragged.
His heartbeat pounded wildly.
’I can’t die here...’
He refused to accept such an ending. He tried to push his speed to the limit, to escape this cursed land.
But the more he tried to force his body, the more blood flowed out of it. His internal organs felt as though they were being crushed.
His strength rapidly faded.
"I can’t see..."
"I can’t see..." he screamed.
Darkness slowly consumed his vision and the world around him disappeared.
Only fear remained.
Ahhhh!
Unknown to him, the blood storm had appeared behind him, and he was slowly pulled into the blood storm.
An invisible force seized his body. His desperate struggle became meaningless.
Crunch! Crunch!
His body was crushed, devoured with nothing left. The mighty Level 38 Warrior disappeared without leaving behind even a corpse.
In the distance, the last man, the Swordsman, was terrified deep to his soul. His sword had long fallen from his hand.
His legs refused to move.
He prayed to all the gods in the universe to save him.
He begged silently.
Unfortunately, his fate had been sealed. Blood gushed out from his eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. The blood flowed endlessly.
He wanted to scream, only for blood to keep coming out like a broken pipe.
His lungs filled with blood.
Every breath became agony.
He fell to his knees, gripping his face desperately and his fingers dug into his own skin.
His entire body trembled violently. Then, a shadow appeared over him.
Slowly...
Crunch! Crunch!
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