After reaching level 12, strength slowly seeped back into Merek's limbs, enough for him to push himself upright. He activated Veilwalk, a rift appeared in the space before him and he walked through.
There, amid the dim glow of the afterlife, he handed over 45 essence cores to Verya, the shopkeeper of Morrow's End. The remainder, he brought back.
Upon returning to the physical world, he tossed them into his mouth, one after the other, crunching them like brittle stones.
His undead did not rely on essence cores to grow. That single fact changed everything.
If his wraiths could continuously hunt without competing for resources, while he devoured the spoils, his progression would outpace almost anyone else. A dangerous advantage.
So far, he'd formed a hypothesis about these mutated creatures. They evolved in two ways.
One—by devouring other lifeforms.
And the second—more unnerving by far—was time.
Yes, time itself strengthened them.
It didn't matter if they hunted or hid. Simply surviving was enough. The longer they remained alive, the stronger they became. That meant if humanity hesitated, even for a moment, extinction wouldn't just be possible—it would be inevitable.
As Merek turned to leave, Yuki's hand clamped gently onto his shoulder. She stood still, her glowing orbs narrowed at the darkness beyond. "Something… is coming," she said, voice low, tense.
Merek followed her gaze, frowning. His energy reserves were drained—too low to use telekinesis again. So, he reached for his revolver, spinning the cylinder once before aiming it toward the unknown.
Seconds passed.
Then it came.
A blur.
So fast it looked like the shadows themselves were tearing through the tunnel. Even at his current level, Merek's eyes couldn't follow its movement—it was just a smear of black and red in the darkness.
His pupils shrank.
The Vulture wraiths moved instantly, leaping into its path with a coordinated clang of metal. But the creature was faster. There was a flash of movement, and both armoured undead—each weighing over 115 kilograms—were launched backward like ragdolls, smashing into the sewer walls with a thunderous impact.
The blur slowed just enough to reveal itself.
It was a jet-black rat, massive—easily the size of a lion—with sinewy muscles rippling beneath its fur. Crimson streaks glowed along its body, like molten veins, and its long, whip-like tail shimmered with a hellish hue. Two beady red eyes burned with raw intelligence and rage.
The Rat King.
It didn't hesitate.
The beast lunged straight for Merek, claws extended, jaws wide, aiming for the kill. But Yuki moved, her silver blade already slicing the air.
Steel met instinct.
The Rat King feinted mid-charge, using the wall to rebound like a missile, twisting mid-air and veering left—straight for Merek's throat.
This one wasn't like the others.
It wasn't just feral, It was cunning.
Merek's heart slammed into his ribs. He had no defense, his job class wasn't built for direct combat. His power was overwhelming but fragile, like a mage in glass armor. His body, unarmoured and weakened from energy exhaustion, was the perfect target.
The Rat King inched closer.
So close Merek could smell its hot, fetid breath.
But Yuki moved again.
A skill born from her past life as a Sword Maiden blazed to life. Three afterimages flickered into existence, frozen silhouettes in mid-swing, showing every feint and form she'd executed in an instant.
She appeared beside the beast.
Her blade arced.
Steel flashed.
The Rat King snarled, twisting violently in an attempt to avoid the blow—but it was too late. The sword cleaved through one of its front limbs, sending a spray of dark crimson across the stone walls.
But the monster didn't scream.
It countered.
Its long tail whipped around and coiled Yuki's armoured forearm like a constrictor. With terrifying strength, it swung her body in a brutal arc and slammed her into the sewer wall.
Boom!
Stone cracked. Dust rained from above. The tunnel shuddered.
Merek's ears rang from the force of the impact, but his grip on the revolver remained tight. The Rat King turned its burning gaze on him once again.
Bang! Bang!
Merek pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession, but the Rat King blurred to the side with unnatural speed. In the blink of an eye, crimson claws raked across his thigh, tearing a deep gash that splashed blood into the sewer water. Merek's leg buckled under him, and he crashed into the murky, green-streaked depths with a grunt of pain.
The rat stalked forward, its fangs bared, preparing for the final strike—when suddenly, a sharp metallic thud rang out behind it.
Its eyes widened.
All three of the undead warriors it had tossed aside—those brutal, plated Vultures—were standing once again, unfazed, armor gleaming in the dim sewer light as if death was but a minor inconvenience.
Bang!
The shot rang out clean and sharp. A bullet tore through the rat's skull, just behind the eye. The massive beast staggered, then slumped forward into the sludge, lifeless.
Merek lowered his revolver, his chest heaving. Sweat clung to his brow, and half his body was submerged in the putrid sewer water—but he didn't care. If the undead hadn't intervened at that moment, the creature would've had his head between its jaws.
Metal clinks echoed as Yuki approached through the water and knelt before him, her tone reverent. "Forgive me, Master Weaver."
Merek gave a strained chuckle, teeth gritted through the pain. "I just need to get up."
Two Vultures stepped forward, each armored shoulder offered in silent support. Grunting, Merek slung his arms around them and rose, his injured leg barely cooperating.
Yuki harvested the essence core and he swallowed it.
[You have consumed a level 17 Dire Rat King essence core!]
[You have risen to level 13!]
[You have risen to level 14!]
Beside the fallen Rat King, two brilliant red orbs shimmered atop the filthy water. Yuki scooped them up and crushed them between her gloved fingers. In a flash of embers, the orbs dissolved—materializing into tangible rewards.
The first was a sleek black leather jacket, layered with a silver-trimmed pauldron on the right shoulder and tight leather wrappings spiraling down both sleeves. It radiated subtle menace.
[Darkweave: A coat stitched from the hide of a shadow bat. Conceals presence—muffling scent, heartbeat, and the sound of footsteps. Skill: Can render the wearer invisible for 30 seconds.]
The second item shimmered into view—a sturdy pair of dark leather boots, reinforced and designed like those of a high-end motorcyclist.
[Air Striders: Stage One speed increased by 10%.]
Despite the pain gnawing at him, Merek slipped into the jacket and tightened the boots. The transformation was immediate. His presence dimmed, as though he had stepped halfway into shadow. Even standing still, he felt… ghostlike.
Leaning against one of the Vultures, he gave a small nod. "Let's get out of here."
….
The rhythmic pounding of a hammer echoed through the tunnel. David's broad frame heaved with every swing, sparks flying as he battered the reinforced gate sealing the exit. Just beyond the iron bars, the world lay open: sunlight filtered through trees, the breeze stirred grass, and birds chirped in peaceful ignorance.
A cruel contrast to the hell within the sewers.
The distant sounds of battle—the gunshots, the monstrous screeches—had reached the survivors. Some students silently wept. Others trembled, clutching each other, whispering prayers to gods they barely believed in.
Bang!
With a final, thunderous strike, the barrier gave way and clanged to the ground. The group surged forward into the open air, collapsing in relief, gasping for clean breaths like drowning men finally surfacing.
"We need to seal it again," Fred urged, turning to Nero. "Use your flames. Weld it shut!"
"What?" Felicity rounded on him, eyes sharp with fury. "He's still in there."
Tevin clenched his spear, glaring silently. The students glanced between them, uncertainty and guilt heavy in the air.
"If those rats come swarming out, we'll all die!" Fred snapped, pointing toward the gaping sewer. "You think his life is worth all of ours?"
Nero hesitated, caught between the arguments—but he didn't move. Felicity was still glaring at Fred with disgust, and if looks could kill, the boy would be sliced apart.
David's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "We wait."
His tone was iron, final. Felicity, who was undeniably the strongest among them due to her high-level skillset, bowed her head slightly and with all of them against him, Fed kept shut.
Step. Step.
The sound of sloshing water reached them faintly. Felicity's heightened senses picked it up first. She turned sharply toward the sewer entrance, her expression unreadable.
Moments later, everyone followed her gaze—eyes widening in disbelief.
From the shadows emerged a man limping heavily, his arm slung over the plated shoulder of a towering undead. Merek's coat fluttered slightly, and the glint of his new gear caught the light. His entire presence had changed. Wounded, yes—but alive.
Fred's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Professor David rose to his feet slowly, shock in his eyes. The students were struck speechless, unable to reconcile the blood-soaked survivor before them with the slaughter they'd imagined below.
"What happened to the rats?" Nero finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Merek exhaled, shrugging like it wasn't worth a second thought.
"They're all dead."