It's not easy for Zorren to rein his anger, even harder when dealing with the [Hero]. He had explicitly explained how dangerous this floor is and that death is always waiting, but the fool ignores his warnings time and time again. He has over a hundred expendable undead with levels exceeding a hundred, and he is instead using them as pack mules while he makes the Gejan fight in the front.

On top of all that, the [Hero] is purposely overextending the Gejan so as to create danger and help level. Logically, it makes sense, but it still has a great deal of risk. All it takes is one misstep, a blade through the eye and one of his kind will perish.

If Zorren could travel back in time, he would have crushed the stupid [Hero] when they had first met. But, alas, it is too late now. Now he must tuck his tail and hold his tongue until he can find his daughter and make sure she is safe.

Then, maybe…

“Zorren, far left wing. [Bone Golem]. Take it out.”

Tisking in annoyance, Zorren unlatches his club and jumps towards the left side of the formation. He notices the charging [Bone Golem], a monstrosity that takes too long to destroy for most. Most, except him. He raises his club and slams it into the fifteen foot monstrosity. It shatters and disperses in a massive pile of bones. Zorren quickly makes his way back towards the center of the formation, right next to the massive undead Berosus and the [Hero] sitting atop it.

___________________________________________________________________

“Darrow, stop overextending you shit and stop taking all the fucking kills. Think of your fucking team!” I yell for the seventh time so far.

What the hell is a [Gejan Defender] exactly? Why even have the word Defender in the fucking class name? I’m seriously exhausted with the system’s shitty naming scheme and the skills it gives to people.

For example, when Darrow got a class upgrade, he was awarded a rare skill called [Defiance of the Many], a skill which gives a stat boost based on the number of enemies near him. A great skill, too bad the undead are still considered an enemy when they are useless pieces on the ground.

I gaze at Darrow as he slams his shield into an undead and the undead doesn't just break. Instead, it splinters into hundreds of broken pieces. He cannot control his temporarily increased strength and keeps overextending.

From my vantage point atop Berosus, I examine my spear formation. Thorous is leading the charge up front with Joker to assist when needed. She is doing an amazing job at keeping in formation and allowing her [Soldiers] to gain experience. On the right is Lilly and Tessa, both doing a decent job, though they require the most help when dealing with the undead. That can be attributed to not having a tier two class yet. Thankfully, my other unique undead are there to supply assistance.

As for the difficulty, the variety of undead has been increasing. Instead of the usual paltry undead, now there are fleshy undead known as [Ghouls] which move quickly, [Bone Golems] that can take a beating, [Spitters] which excrete acid for some reason, and of course the annoying high level resurrected undead.

The last type is actually much less of a problem due to a lack of proper gear. A level 80 [Undead Warrior] is not much of a threat with no armor and a stick as a sword.

Even so, accidents and injuries do happen, especially due to exhaustion of my lower leveled [Soldiers]. Fighting and moving for hours on end is difficult to do for those lacking in attributes. After some time, they begin making mistakes and taking hits they would otherwise avoid or block.

But I have already taken that into account.

Turning around and looking behind me, several injured [Soldiers] rest on my undead while six [Minor Angels] fly around casting the [Heal] spell while systematically giving me murder glares. In the center of the procession of my undead is Jessica who is somehow maintaining six summons.

“I think she mentioned something about the cost for lower rank angels being cheaper and aura training helping with keeping them under control.” I muse aloud. “Hmmm, not sure, she also did mention something about Mule killing a lot of her ange-”

OBEY ME

My thoughts are interrupted for the seventeenth time by some weird mental command that has been trying to take control of my undead from me. It kinda reminds me of Mule talking back to me in his weird mental thoughts, except this one is far more disobedient and is coming from the direction of the entrance to the next floor.

So yea, I’m heading towards some kind of being that is probably the floor boss that probably has an undead army under its control. I can already tell this boss is going to be annoying to deal with.

KNEEL, WORM

Yup, annoying.

___________________________________________________________________________

Her two blades swing quickly, her body moving with the barest of thought, the bones of the undead being severed through like soft mud. Their bodies become limbs that scatter upon the floor and then trampled by the rest of the procession. It has been half a day so far and the difficulty and number had increased significantly.

Thorous pauses for a breath. Her view is covered by a countless horde of undead that still blocks her vision. The density of the undead had increased by a significant amount. She turns her head and watches as Joker continues his onslaught upon the bodies of the dead. Never tired, ceaselessly moving, Quasi’s minion continues to assist her without break.

She stretches, settles her breathing, and then begins to focus. She begins to smell the rotting corpses, the feeling of sweat dripping down her scales, the sounds of battle raging around her…

Her hands start to work, the bladed bones move and weave, her body begins to vibrate to the tempo of battle. Like a flip of a coin, her dance continues and the world descends from a brutal cacophony into a chaotic polyphony.

______________________________________________________________________

Its body trembles and looks into the far distance, its mind feeling disobedient ones coming closer. The undead that dared to refuse its call. Even now, miles away, it sends orders but they are immediately refused and ignored. It senses something, something that is alive, something that has a mind strong enough to ignore its power.

Thus the thing watches the horizon and waits as it senses the disobedients make their way towards him. The being trembles and calls on its army. On the undeath that surrounds it. Their minds quaking under his orders. He searches, traveling into the minds of those he controls. The being learns, its crystalline skull glows a darkened green. Memories not of his own are given to him.

Memories of a [Goblin Shaman] flow into the being.

The [Goblin Shaman] leans forward, talking to a young acolyte. “Every ten generations, when our numbers become too great, the world spirals into the undeath. Corpses begin to rise and devour. They will kill and murder, and only will they stop when less than one percent of our population remains. As a [Shaman], it will be your job to survive and share knowledge to the next generation…”

The being trembles. It understands that the undeath should have stopped a long time ago, but it does not feel. It merely continues looking for another mind, one that is more recent.

Memories of a Gejan [Archwarrior] are siphoned from the undead.

“Will the hunting group be ok with your daughter leading it, Aldonis? I know she’s the highest level, but you and I both know levels aren't everything.”

The being focuses on that individual. On its memories.

Images of two crimson Gejan are seen. One is large and a male, the other is thinner and is a female. The male is training the female.

The being focuses harder on the memories, taking as much as it can.

The male is Adonis, a [Swordmaster]

Further it bleeds the memories, forcing deeper into the [Archwarriors] being.

The body of the [Archwarrior] crumbles, but the being looks up, its eyes glow a deathly green. It opens its mouth, one which should not be able to speak.

Mana and magic converge and flow. A sentence forms.

“The female is Thorous.”

…

The being is delighted. It has learned something. It knows one of the living things which travels towards it.

“Thorous,” the being repeats the name.

The being becomes confused now as it attempts to understand what the point is…

_________________________________________________________________

Thorous

…

Thorous

…

Thorous

“Six fucking hours,”

Thorous

“You’ve been repeating her name for six stupid hours.”

Thorous

“Ughhhh,” I groan while staring at the abomination in the distance. The boss is big, and I do mean big. It’s twice as tall as Berosus and looks like a crystal skull on top of a mound of bones. The skull is glowing a very strong green glow as are now the army sized number of undead. The numbers are easily hitting ten thousand if not more around me.

Thorous

I can't even cast [Advanced Analyze] on it yet since it is too far. Another mile might be enough distance, but that is taking longer than usual. The undead density is increasing to an annoying degree. They even look like they are funneling towards Thorous.

Actually, that could work.

“Darrow, switch with Joker. You are going up front with Thorous,” I say with my Aura infused voice.

Darrow's passive should give him a significant upper hand for the time being. At this rate, their sheer numbers will overwhelm our group.

I look behind me and wave at Zorren. He gives me a glare and leaps upon the head of Berosus.

“What?” he says, a frown on his face.

I point towards the horde.

“How exactly did two thousand Gejan get through that, because unless everyone was in their second tier class, then I see little to no chance. Heck, I don't think you or anyone with you would have been able to take out the boss.”

Zorren frowns and stays silent, his eyes gazing at the fucking massive army in front of him.

“The boss was not present and there were not nearly as many undead here before. This is all very recent. It may be the reason why no others have been able to return since I left.”

I groan, watching and waiting as we move closer and closer. A plan does form in my head, but it is more of a last resort and not something I would want to use.

“Damn, this is annoying,” I say aloud.

Zorren grunts but stays silent. His own eyes are glued to the mass of undead bodies.

“We should retreat,” he finally says and I immediately shake my head.

“Can’t. The undead behind us have already risen again. It would be a grueling fight back and I doubt he would allow us to run.”

Zorren focuses on the boss, his hand becomes a fist.

“I will kill it, then.”

“I do agree that the boss needs to die, but its death will not solve the problem of too many undead. You alone aren’t strong enough to stop an army.”

“I can still try,” he says while taking a step forward and begins reaching for his club.

“Stop,” I say, raising my hand, “if you plan on sacrificing yourself, then you do it under my orders and my plans.”

I look him straight in the eye, his expression turning angry for a moment before relaxing.

“Fine, I will listen… for now.”

He hops off Berosus and takes his usual position in the center.

Freakin prick.

____________________________________________

“[Advanced Analyze]”

Mylingar, Guardian of the fifth floor Level 161

Mylingar is the Guardian of the entrance to the sixth floor of the dungeon. He is an undead entity that is built upon the corpses of those that have died. He is capable of controlling a veritable army of undead and cannot be truly defeated unless all other undead have been destroyed. Mylingar, though not dangerous on his own, is capable of overwhelming anyone with sheer numbers.

[Death’s Rebirth]

[Undead Domination]

[Minor Intelligence]

I see now. Volpe killed Mylingar and earned her name. She did it by destroying everything on the fucking floor.

…

And I was banging her last week...

I ignore the glowing gauntlet on my hand and stand up atop Berosus. I sadly sigh as I will indeed be forced to use my trump card after all. I was hoping that I wouldn't need to, but I risk too many lives by not doing so.

I stretch and jump off Berosus.