Still ignoring the watchers, Leon stands over the fallen mantis, its core pulsing like a captured star in his palm. The shadows in the chamber felt as if they were closing in on him as he opened his system interface. A cold blue light illuminates his face, casting sharp angles.
With a steady hand, he taps the "summon zombie" option. Instantly, a new window appears before him.
───────[ZOMBIE CREATION]──────────
Sacrifice Material: Mantis Core (Rare) Are you sure you want to proceed? [YES] / [NO]
Leon’s finger hovers over the confirmation button, his heart racing. This is his first rare-tier creation, and he knows that whatever erged will far surpass his current undead.
With a deep breath, he tapped YES.
───────[SELECT CLASS]──────────
Warrior - Heavy combat, high durability Saint - Support abilities, team buffs
Mage - Ranged damage, elental control Summoner - Commands lesser undead
The warrior option calls to him—raw power ready for the battles ahead. Leon’s eyes locked onto the selection, his decision clear.
He makes his choice and move forward.
─────[SUMMONING IN PROGRESS]───────
Elite Warrior Creation: 2:43 remaining Please wait while essence binds to form...
The mantis’ core dissolves into a stream of energy, light coiling through the air like liquid rcury as it gathers mass and substance. Leon watches the countdown tick away, his pulse racing with anticipation.
Suddenly, footsteps echo through the chamber. Guess the watchers have seen enough
Four hunters erge from the shadows, their mid-tier gear gleaming with enchantnts. The ARES Guild insignia blazes on their chest plates—a crimson spear piercing a skull.
Leon’s blood runs cold. He recognizes that symbol. It belongs to Tobias Virell’s guild.
The leader steps forward, tall and sharp-featured, reminiscent of his deceased brother. Marsen Virell’s eyes hold the sa calculating cruelty that had marked his family line.
"Weren’t you that F-Rank nobody from the Awakening?" Marsen’s voice drips with contempt.
One of his teammates chuckles. "You fight too well for an F-Rank necromancer."
"Yeah," another adds. "Even your undead assassin was impressive."
Leon remains silent, his eyes scanning their positions. His Elite Grave Mage stands ready behind him, while the regenerated assassin crouches, tense and striking. Two against four—not impossible odds.
Marsen steps closer, jaw set with inherited arrogance. "You know the rules. Leave all the dungeon loot, and we’ll let you leave. Maybe. That is, if you can even leave this place."
Leon ets his gaze without flinching. "And if I don’t? What will you do?"
Marsen’s face twists with rage. How dare this F-Rank trash question him? His hands ignite with blue fire as he conjures a spinning disc of concentrated fla.
The attack screams toward Leon’s face.
In an instant, the assassin moves, without command. She throws herself into the disc’s path, her spectral flesh erupting in fire and shadow. The explosion hurls her across the chamber, where she strikes the stone with bone-breaking force.
Leon’s system chis.
───────[SUMMON COMPLETE]─────────
Elite Warrior assigned. Say the keyword to summon
Perfect timing. Leon’s lips curls into a cold smile. "Well, you guys attacked first. So I think it’s only fair that I do my own test run. Maybe you’ll be good enough to help break in the new summon."
The system flashes its final prompt, waiting for his command.
──────[SAY KEYWORD TO SUMMON]─────
Leon shouts without hesitation, "Arouse!"
Marsen bursts into laughter. "Arouse? What are you, twelve?" His team joins in, weapons lowering as they mock the ridiculous command word. Their laughter echoes off the chamber walls like the cackles of hyenas.
But their amusent dies instantly.
Mist erupts from the remains of the mantis’ core. Bone and shadow twist together, flesh forming over a spectral frawork. The elite warrior materializes with deliberate nace—eight feet of mottled muscle and natural armor. Its eyes burn with blue fire, hinting at intelligence beyond re undead animation.
Leon taps his interface, transferring the Predator’s Blade to his new creation. The mantis weapon flows like liquid rcury into the warrior’s grip.
The hunters’ laughter turns into nervous shuffling. This isn’t standard necromancy. The creature radiates a power that makes their enhanced gear feel inadequate.
"Formation!" Marsen barks.
His team reacts with trained precision, powers activating in a coordinated sequence.
Kalden channels energy into his fists and boots. Golden light wraps around his limbs as enhancent magic supercharges his physical capabilities. He launches himself at the warrior zombie, fists trailing fire.
Serik’s rune-etched chains writhe to life around his arms. The tal serpents snap forward with crushing force, seeking to bind and strangle their target.
Minseo’s form splits into three identical copies. The mirror images dart toward Leon and his undead from different angles, curved blades flashing in phosphorescent light.
Marsen conjures another spinning disc and splits it into three projectiles. The fiery arcs scream through the air with lethal intent, each aid at vital organs.
Leon steps back, observing the coordinated assault with analytical detachnt. This is why the ARES Guild commands respect—their teamwork is flawless.
But they’ve never faced anything like his warrior.
The elite zombie squares its shoulders, the mantis blade held in perfect guard position. Its voice erges as a low rumble that seems to co from everywhere:
"I await your order."
The four hunters converge from every angle, enhanced abilities blazing with lethal energy. Kalden’s flaming fists lead the charge while Serik’s chains whip through the air. Minseo’s copies create a web of slashing steel as Marsen’s fire discs carve burning arcs through the chamber.
It’s a perfectly tid ambush, executed with guild-level precision.
The warrior zombie stands motionless at the storm’s center, patiently waiting for its master’s command.
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