Chapter 666: The Mourners and the Undead.

“Grave Shift!”

Once again, Thoren vanished from his spot and appeared in the previous position of an undead Scorpion Man, while the undead Scorpion Man appeared in his original position.

He had barely completed the exchange when one of the mourners suddenly appeared before the undead servant and stretched out its skeletal hand.

Its movements were so swift that even Thoren could hardly follow them.

The moment its bony fingers touched the undead Scorpion Man. The undead body began to dissolve gradually.

Its hard exoskeleton softened, its limbs lost their shape, and its entire body began collapsing into a thick black liquid that spread across the shallow water beneath its feet.

The transformation happened without any resistance, as though the undead Scorpion Man had never possessed a physical body in the first place.

Thoren’s expression turned ugly as he watched another one of his undead servants disappear before his eyes, but he did not allow his anger or shock to delay his actions.

He immediately opened his Undead Space, releasing a massive wave of undead servants and beasts into the enormous chamber.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Dozens of undead Lesser Dune Scorpions and Greater Dune Scorpions emerged from the Undead Space, their massive bodies crashing into the shallow water and sending black ripples spreading in every direction.

Following them were hundreds of undead Scorpion Men, each between Level 35 and Level 36, while their weapons glimmered beneath the eerie light of the Soul Lantern of Eternal Crypt.

The atmosphere changed drastically.

Previously, the hundreds of mourners had occupied the chamber in complete silence, kneeling in the shallow water with their heads bowed.

And now, even with the sudden appearance of Thoren’s undead legion the mourners showed no reaction.

They continued kneeling in the water, their heads lowered and their shoulders shaking.

“Attack!” He relayed his command through the mental link.

The undead legion surged toward the kneeling mourners, their movements shaking the shallow black water beneath their feet.

Hundreds of undead Scorpion Men charged with their weapons raised, their heavy footsteps echoing throughout the chamber, while the massive scorpions crawled forward with their sharp pincers spread wide.

The mourners remained kneeling, their heads bowed beneath their dark cloaks, seemingly indifferent to the approaching army.

Not a single one moved to defend itself, and none reacted to the hundreds of undead rushing toward them.

Their silence was so unnatural that it made the entire scene feel wrong.

Even as the undead legion advanced, the mourners continued to kneel in the shallow water, their shoulders trembling faintly as though they were still mourning.

Just as the undead legion surged toward the mourners, a deep tremor passed through the chamber.

The stone beneath their feet shuddered violently, sending ripples across the black water.

The shallow pools that had remained almost motionless suddenly churned, and countless droplets splashed against the legs of the approaching undead.

A low rumbling sound rolled through the Hall of Tallies, growing louder with every passing moment.

Dust fell from the ceiling, while several loose fragments of stone struck the floor and disappeared beneath the dark water.

The sudden disturbance had come without warning, with no visible source. Yet, the entire hall seemed to have awakened from a long slumber.

Thoren’s expression changed slightly as he watched the kneeling figures.

Before he and his undead could understand what was happening, all the mourners rose to their feet in unison.

The movement was so perfectly synchronized that it sent a chill through the chamber.

Hundreds of black figures straightened their backs at precisely the same moment, their ragged cloaks dragging across the black water.

Not one of them stumbled or hesitated.

Their movements were stiff and unnatural, yet there was a disturbing sense of purpose behind them, as though every mourner was controlled by a single will.

Their heads remained hidden beneath their cloaks, concealing whatever lay beneath the darkness.

Their skeletal hands hung loosely at their sides, and their long fingers were stained by the black water that dripped from their robes.

None carried a weapon, and none made any obvious attempt to threaten the approaching undead.

However, the moment they stood, a terrifying aura erupted from their bodies.

The atmosphere became unbearably heavy.

The black water trembled around their feet, and the darkness beneath their cloaks seemed to deepen until their faces were completely swallowed by shadow.

A cold pressure spread throughout the Hall of Tallies, pressing against everything within its reach.

Anyone witnessing such a scene would have screamed in terror.

Their presence alone made the chamber feel like a place where all living things had already been sentenced to death.

Yet, Thoren remained composed, his eyes flashing with firm determination.

He had already witnessed how easily these mourners could turn his undead into black water with a single touch.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Powerful gusts of wind swept through the Hall of Tallies, violently disturbing the black water covering the stone floor.

The sudden turbulence carried a chilling pressure that rushed past Thoren, causing his clothes and the edges of his cloak to flutter.

Dust and loose fragments of stone rose into the air, swirling around the chamber as the oppressive aura of the mourners intensified.

Before Thoren could react, the mourners vanished from their spots.

There was no warning, no visible movement, and no sound of footsteps against the stone floor.

One moment, hundreds of mourners stood motionless beneath their dark cloaks, and the next, they had disappeared as though they had never existed.

The places where they had stood were left empty, with only ripples spreading across the black water.

Thoren’s pupils contracted as he instinctively scanned the chamber.

However, before he could determine where the mourners had gone, they reappeared throughout the undead legion.

Each mourner stood directly before an undead servant, their dark cloaks hanging loosely around their bodies.

Without hesitation, they raised their pale skeletal hands and reached toward their targets.

Their movements were neither hurried nor violent, and there was no sign of effort in their actions.

It was as though they were simply reaching out to greet an old acquaintance.

Then their fingers made contact.

The undead Scorpion Men dissolved into black water almost immediately.

Their armored bodies, weapons, and skeletal frames melted together, losing their shape as the strange liquid spread across the floor.

There was no explosion, no shattered bones, and no opportunity for resistance. The undead servants that were terrifying against the living were as fragile as a piece of paper before them.

One after another, the mourners continued their slaughter.

A mourner reached toward an undead Lesser Dune Scorpion, and the enormous creature collapsed into a puddle of black water before its pincers could close around the enemy.

Another appeared beside a Greater Dune Scorpion and touched its armored body, causing its hard exoskeleton to dissolve in seconds.

The undead Greater Dune Scorpion’s countless legs twitched helplessly as its body lost its form, and the black water rushed between the gaps in the stone floor.

Many undead Scorpion Men attempted to raise their weapons, but their efforts were futile.

The mourners simply extended their skeletal hands, and everything they touched dissolved.

One undead Scorpion Men swung its blade at a cloaked figure, only for the weapon to disappear as the mourner’s fingers brushed against its surface.

Before the undead Scorpion Man could complete its attack, its entire body melted into the same dreadful liquid.

The scene became increasingly horrifying as more mourners appeared among the undead legion.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Their movements were too fast for the eye to follow. They vanished from one position and appeared somewhere else, their skeletal hands reaching toward new targets with terrifying precision.

Every time they appeared, another undead servant was reduced to black water.

The sound of rushing wind filled the hall, accompanied by the continuous splashing of liquid as hundreds of undead disappeared one after another.

The undead legion tried to retaliate, but their numbers offered little protection against such a dreadful enemy.

The massive undead scorpions struggled to turn their bodies toward the mourners, while the undead Scorpion Men swung their weapons blindly, trying to stop the mourners from getting close to them.

Their attacks struck nothing but empty air, and before they could recover, the mourners reappeared beside them.

Within moments, the battlefield had changed completely.

The hundreds of undead that had filled the chamber were rapidly disappearing, leaving expanding puddles of black water across the stone floor.

The mourners showed no signs of fatigue, anger, or excitement.

They moved silently through the chaos, their faces concealed beneath their cloaks, their skeletal hands reaching out again and again.

Thoren watched the horrifying scene with a heavy expression.

His eyes followed the fleeting figures as he tried to understand their movements. His plan was to use his undead legion to attack, believing that overwhelming numbers might reveal the mourners’ weaknesses.

Instead, what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

Since he became a necromancer and awakened his undead space talent. This was the first time he was so helpless.

His endless undead had been a source of pride for him.

He believed nothing could stand his way as long as he was careful, planned his battle correctly.

But now…

The most disturbing part was that the mourners had yet to display any visible sign of effort.

They were not fighting his undead legion using any fighting skill or flamboyant technique.

They were simply touching them, and everything they touched was turning into black water.