Online Game: I Returned From Death With An Unbeatable Summon Class! Chapter 50: Into the Depths

Malachar materialized beside him in a flash of crimson light, massive and imposing.

The Crimson Tyrant stood nearly eight feet tall, clad in ancient armor that seed forged from solidified blood. His helt bore twisted horns that curved back like a demon’s crown, and beneath the visor, red eyes burned with ancient power. A tattered crimson cloak billowed despite the absence of wind, and in his gauntleted hands rested a greatsword nearly as tall as Marcus himself a blade that had ended countless lives across battlefields long forgotten.

[MP: 100/100 → 50/100]

Vera’s eyes widened. "The strange feeling Corvin ntioned about you... it was right."

The others stared at the towering Crimson Tyrant with a mix of awe and fear.

"My liege." Malachar’s voice rumbled like distant thunder. "What is your command?"

"Clear the path!" Marcus pointed toward the courtyard. "We’re going deeper!"

Malachar’s greatsword swept in a devastating arc. Three soldiers didn’t even have ti to scream before they dissolved into ash.

The group surged forward behind the summon’s assault. Tobin held the front line. Marcus and Liz flanked. Malachar carved through resistance like it was paper.

They fought through the courtyard. Every step forward cost them. Vera’s MP dropping as she healed wound after wound. Dain running low on arrows. Mikael taking a glancing blow that left his arm bleeding.

But they were moving. Pushing deeper into the fortress while soldiers scrambled to organize a proper defense.

Marcus’s Soul Reading tracked emotional signatures throughout the building. Confusion. Alarm. Fear from so of the soldiers who’d seen what Malachar could do.

And deeper inside, underground sothing cold and calculating.

Soone waiting.

They reached a set of stone stairs descending into the fortress depths. Two Tier 4 lieutenants erged from below, blocking the entrance.

"No further!" One of them shouted, raising a sword crackling with corrupt energy. "By order of Commander Malrik, you are—"

Malachar’s greatsword took both lieutenants in a single horizontal slash.

[ 45 CURRENCY][ 45 CURRENCY]

"Commander Malrik can co get us himself!" Marcus descended the stairs, not breaking stride.

"MOVE!"

The group plunged into the fortress depths, leaving chaos and carnage in their wake.

Behind them, alarm bells continued to ring.

Ahead, deeper in the darkness, the research lab waited.

And sowhere in this fortress, Commander Malrik was mobilizing his forces for a hunt.

The mission had gone sideways.

But they were committed now.

No retreat. No surrender.

Only forward.

Into hell itself if that’s what it took.

The stairs descended into darkness lit only by flickering torches mounted on stone walls. The air grew colder with each step, carrying the sll of chemicals and sothing else .

Marcus led the way, Dagon at hand, Malachar’s massive form barely fitting in the corridor behind him. The Crimson Tyrant had to duck beneath low archways, his armor scraping against stone.

"How much further?" Tobin asked, shield still raised despite no imdiate threats.

"Unknown." Marcus’s Soul Reading pushed ahead, mapping the emotional signatures below. "But there’s sothing down here. Sothing big."

They reached a landing where the corridor split into three directions. Left, right, and straight ahead. Each passage identical stone walls, torch-lit darkness, descending deeper.

"Which way?" Liz moved beside Marcus, her blade still glowing with residual Bladecaster energy.

Marcus extended his Soul Reading down each path.

Left: Empty. No signatures.

Right: Faint signatures. Maybe five or six. Human, afraid.

Straight: Multiple signatures. Strong. And that cold, calculating presence he’d felt from above.

"Straight." Marcus made the decision. "That’s where the research is. That’s where we’ll find answers."

"And probably the most guards," Mikael pointed out, pressing a cloth to his wounded arm.

"Then we fight through them." Marcus started forward. "Sa as every other obstacle."

The corridor opened into a larger chamber.

And stopped.

The research lab spread before them like sothing from a nightmare.

Rows of glass containnt chambers lined both walls, each seven feet tall and filled with murky liquid. Most were empty. So contained... things. Failed experints. Twisted amalgamations of human and beast that had died mid-transformation.

In the center of the room, a massive operating table. Straps. Bloodstains. Instrunts that made even Marcus’s stomach turn.

And beyond that, another corridor leading deeper still.

"Gods." Vera’s voice was barely a whisper. "What have they been doing here?"

"Building an army." Marcus moved through the lab, examining the containnt chambers more closely. "Testing fusion processes. Human-Hayate hybrids. Different combinations, different results."

Liz stopped in front of one chamber. Inside, a corpse floated in the liquid recognizably human from the waist up, but below that, twisted corruption had transford flesh into sothing alien.

"They were experinting on people." Her voice was tight with rage. "Civilians. Prisoners."

"And they’re still doing it." Dain pointed to a chamber in the back corner. "That one’s occupied."

A figure moved in the murky liquid. Human-shaped. Alive. Its eyes opened milky white, unfocused, corrupted.

Vera moved to the chamber’s control panel. "I can try to release them. Purify what corruption I can—"

"No ti." Marcus cut her off. "We’re not here for rescue. We’re here to destroy this place."

"But—"

"Vera." Marcus’s tone was final. "If we stop to help everyone, we die. All of us. And then there’s no one left to stop Duskhollow."

Vera’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. She knew Marcus was right.

"Plant the explosives." Marcus gestured to the chamber-lined walls. "This entire lab needs to burn."

Tobin pulled alchemical charges from the pack Dain had been carrying. Small spheres filled with volatile compounds, wrapped in tid fuses. He began placing them at structural weak points support pillars, the base of containnt chambers, anywhere that would maximize destruction.

Bghhhh!!!

A sound from the deeper corridor made everyone freeze.

Footsteps.

Multiple sets. Heavy. Armored.

Marcus’s Soul Reading flared. Five signatures approaching. Strong. Disciplined.Maybe Tier 3 at minimum.

"Contact incoming!" He called out. "Defensive positions!"

The group ford up. Tobin at the front with his shield. Marcus and Liz flanking. Malachar towering behind them. Vera and Mikael in the rear, protected but ready.