Online Game: I Returned From Death With An Unbeatable Summon Class! Chapter 43: The Incomplete Specimens - Part 1

[SYSTEM]

Marcus ntally opened his inventory, checking his coin balance.

[CURRENCY: 575 COINS]

New notifications popped up in the shop interface.

[NEW ITEMS AVAILABLE]

[BIG HP POTION — TIER B: RESTORES 100 HP — 20 COINS] [STOCK: 0/10]

[BIG MP POTION — TIER B: RESTORES 100 MP — 20 COINS] [STOCK: 0/10]

Marcus didn’t hesitate. "Might as well purchase ten each."

[PURCHASED: 10x BIG HP POTION — 200 COINS]

[PURCHASED: 10x BIG MP POTION — 200 COINS]

[TOTAL: -400 COINS]

[CURRENCY: 175 COINS]

He pulled up his full stats, reviewing his progress.

[SYSTEM][STATS]Na: Marcus Vael Class: Summoner. Subclass: Sovereign Tier — Unclassified / Weapon MasteryRace: Human

STR 27 / 100

DEX 5 / 100

SPD 36 / 100

CON 3 / 100

INT 12 / 100

HP 100 / 100

MP 100 / 100

Marcus closed the interface and looked toward the southwest where the specin signatures were approaching. Dagon materialized in his hand, cold steel gleaming in the fading light.

"Let’s see what Duskhollow’s been cooking up."

The first specin erged from the trees.

Liz’s breath caught. "Hayates."

The creature stood seven feet tall, its body a grotesque fusion of human and corrupted beast. Human torso and arms, but the proportions were wrong too long, too muscular, covered in patches of corrupted armor that seed fused directly to the flesh. The head was the worst part. Partially human features twisted and stretched, with glowing red eyes that held far too much intelligence for a mindless beast.

"Not quite." Marcus’s Soul Reading analyzed the creature’s emotional signature. Complex. Intelligent. But unstable, like sothing barely held together. "It’s incomplete. Human-Hayate fusion that didn’t finish properly."

A second specin appeared beside the first. Similar build, but this one had more human features preserved. Its face was almost recognizable as a person who’d once lived normally. Almost.

Then a third. And a fourth.

All of them staring at Marcus and Liz with predatory focus.

Liz took a step back, her hand trembling slightly on her blade. Her face had gone pale, eyes wide with recognition and sothing deeper. Fear. Trauma.

"Liz?" Marcus glanced at her.

"The raid." Her voice was barely a whisper. "At Ashveil. These things... or sothing like them. They moved like this. Looked like this. I..." She stopped, trying to control her breathing.

The specins tilted their heads in unison, studying them. One of them let out a sound half human scream, half corrupted beast growl.

Marcus stepped in front of Liz. "Back out of this one. I’ll handle them."

"I can fight." But her voice lacked conviction.

"I know you can." Marcus kept his eyes on the specins. "But not these. Not today. Get back to the others. I’ll catch up."

"Marcus—"

"Go."

Liz hesitated, torn between pride and trauma, then nodded sharply. She backed away into the trees, her emotional signature a mix of sha and relief as she disappeared into the forest.

Marcus stood alone facing four incomplete specins.

[THREAT ANALYSIS: TIER 5]

The notification appeared unbidden. Tier 5. Higher than anything he’d faced before. Higher than the Ashfang soldiers. Higher than the hob-goblins.

"Perfect." Marcus materialized Dagon fully, settling into a combat stance. "I needed a challenge."

The specins moved.

Not a charge. Not a rush. Calculated positioning. Three spread out to flank while the fourth held center, clearly the alpha of this pack.

Marcus’s Soul Reading tracked their intent. They were coordinating. Communicating sohow without words. Testing his reaction.

The left-most specin lunged first.

Marcus dodged right, Dagon coming up to parry the creature’s clawed strike. Steel t corrupted flesh with a shower of sparks. The impact sent shockwaves up Marcus’s arm the thing was strong.

He disengaged, putting distance between them.

The specin that had attacked didn’t pursue. It fell back into formation, watching. Learning.

"They’re testing ." Marcus’s eyes narrowed.

"Seeing what I can do."

The alpha specin opened its mouth and spoke. The words were distorted, barely human, but understandable.

"Ssssummoner." It tasted the word like sothing foreign. "Interesssting."

It could talk.

Marcus didn’t respond. He extended his Soul Reading to maximum range, analyzing all four specins simultaneously. Their emotional signatures were linked sohow, sharing information like a corrupted hive mind.

This wasn’t going to be like fighting soldiers or goblins. These things learned. Adapted. Shared knowledge.

He needed an advantage.

"Malachar." Marcus’s MP dropped as he initiated the summon.

[SUMMONING: MALACHAR — THE CRIMSON TYRANT][MP: 100/100 → 50/100]

The air split open. Crimson light poured out, thick and oppressive. The ground trembled as Malachar stepped through, massive and imposing in his full armor. His greatsword glead with barely contained power.

"My liege." Malachar’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. "These creatures reek of corruption."

"Four of them." Marcus gestured to the specins.

"Then we shall teach them the price of facing a Crimson Tyrant." Malachar raised his greatsword.

The specins’ emotional signatures spiked with sothing Marcus hadn’t expected.

Excitent.

They wanted this fight.

The alpha specin lunged first, moving faster than Marcus anticipated. It closed the distance in a blur, claws extended, aiming for his throat.

Malachar intercepted. His greatsword swept horizontally, forcing the alpha to abort its attack and dodge backward. The blade missed by inches.

The other three specins attacked simultaneously from different angles.

Marcus engaged the nearest one, Dagon moving in practiced patterns. The specin was fast maybe close to that man.

He ducked under a swipe, drove Dagon into the creature’s side. The blade punched through corrupted flesh, black blood spraying.

The specin scread and stumbled back.

But it didn’t fall.

Marcus watched in disbelief as the wound began to close. Regeneration. The flesh knitted itself back together in seconds, corrupted energy visibly repairing the damage.

"They heal." Marcus called to Malachar. "Fast."

"Then we must deal damage faster than they can recover." Malachar’s greatsword carved through the air, forcing two specins to scatter.

The fight devolved into brutal chaos.

Marcus fought defensively, using his speed to stay ahead of the specins’ attacks while looking for openings. Every strike he landed sealed itself within seconds. Every wound regenerated.

Malachar fared better with his massive damage output, but even he couldn’t keep all four specins contained.

The alpha specin circled around Malachar’s guard and ca at Marcus from the side.

Marcus saw it through Soul Reading, started to dodge—

Too slow.