Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 153: The Messiah Who Consumes.

Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!

On the frozen plain, agonized screams echoed through the air. The soul-rending cries instantly drew Thoren’s attention, as well as that of everyone present.

Thoren turned toward the source of the sound and furrowed his brow. Half of the members of the Slave Trade Guild had fallen to their knees, clutching their heads as if in unbearable pain.

Blood streamed from their eyes, noses, ears, and mouths, staining the white ice beneath them in grotesque streaks of crimson.

"What is going on?"

"What happened?"

"What’s happening to them?"

The remaining members of the Slave Trade Guild were gripped by confusion and fear. Panic spread rapidly among them, and several instinctively stumbled backward.

However, Fenric paid no attention to their cries. Instead, his chanting grew louder and more frenzied.

The wind began to howl wildly, increasing in both strength and ferocity.

The more the guild members screamed, their blood soaking into the frozen plain, the more bizarre and oppressive the atmosphere became.

Fenric’s voice rose to a sharp crescendo. Somehow, it overpowered even the violent clashes still taking place on the battlefield.

His voice became the only sound that dominated the frozen wasteland.

Then, one by one, the screaming guild members collapsed onto the ground, writhing in agony.

"S-Someone... h-help..."

"L-Leader... s-save me..."

"N-No... please... no..."

Their pleas grew weaker with each passing second.

Before everyone’s eyes, their bodies began to wither. Their skin shriveled. Their muscles shrank. In mere moments, their flesh seemed to dry out completely.

Then, they vanished.

Not a single bone remained. Not even a drop of blood was left behind.

The screams ceased abruptly.

Silence descended upon the frozen plain.

All eyes were locked on the spots where those guild members had been moments earlier.

There was nothing there.

It was as though they had been swallowed whole by the abyss itself.

Even the blood that had splattered across the ice had disappeared without a trace.

"T-This..." one of the Knight Order members gasped.

Shock was written plainly across his face.

This was the first time they had ever witnessed human beings vanish so completely.

No corpses.

No bones.

No evidence that they had ever existed.

What had just happened?

Where had they gone?

Numerous questions surfaced in their minds, yet none could find an answer.

Howl! Howl!

From the depths of the fissure, a harsh, grating howl erupted. The frozen plain trembled violently beneath their feet.

"What is that?"

"Where is that sound coming from?"

The few remaining members of the Slave Trade Guild were consumed by dread. They were not fools. They could already guess that what had just occurred was connected to their leader’s ritual.

Yet their blind faith in him left them conflicted.

He must have a reason.

He wouldn’t sacrifice them without purpose.

This must be part of his plan to set them free.

Yes... if freedom required sacrifices, then sacrifices were necessary.

Without Fenric uttering a single word of explanation, many of them had already convinced themselves of this justification.

It was the only way they could cope with the horror they had just witnessed.

Just then, from the fissure, a skeleton climbed out.

In its bony hands, it held a crudely fashioned weapon.

Its eye sockets were empty, yet it moved with unsettling certainty. Its misaligned jaws clattered together with each step.

Behind it, more figures emerged.

Some wore tattered rags that barely clung to their skeletal frames. Their movements were unsteady, almost unnatural. Yet they never stopped advancing.

One after another, they poured out of the fissure.

Dozens became scores.

Scores became hundreds.

And still, they continued to rise.

The number of skeletons soon surpassed a hundred, yet there was no sign that the tide would cease.

The situation on the Frostbitten Tundra grew increasingly dire.

The air felt heavy.

Suffocating.

"I knew it!" one guild member shouted with forced excitement. "Our leader must have had a reason!"

"Hahaha! With these skeletons, nothing can stop us!" another cried.

As the remaining members of the Slave Trade Guild regained their misplaced confidence, they momentarily forgot that the battle was still ongoing.

"Ahhhhh!"

A deep, soul-tearing scream suddenly pierced the air.

High above, a severed arm spun through the sky, blood scattering in the wind like crimson rain.

Thud!

The arm landed heavily on the frozen ground, blood pooling around it.

All eyes shifted to the owner of the severed limb.

The Level 18 Hunter.

He was drenched in blood, his body battered and broken.

The soft light chest armor beneath his robe had been shredded in multiple places. Blood poured freely from his wounds.

A deep, vicious claw mark marred his left cheek, nearly blinding him in one eye.

If not for his high level as an awakener, he would have already collapsed from blood loss.

His weapon had long since been knocked away, lost somewhere amid the shattered ice.

The undead Royalty Stonewall stepped forward without hesitation.

Its blade gleamed coldly as it swept through the air.

With a single clean strike, it severed the Hunter’s head from his body.

Bang!

Before the head had even completed its arc through the air, the Undead War Tide Lion lunged forward and sent the headless corpse flying into the distance with a brutal swipe.

A collective gasp rose from the onlookers.

Their jaws dropped in disbelief.

How could undead servants coordinate so perfectly?

Their movements were seamless, precise, almost human.

No, even more efficient than humans.

Fenric watched the scene unfold, his teeth biting so hard into the corner of his lip that blood trickled down his chin. He seemed unaware of the pain.

"I’ll kill you... I’ll kill you..." he growled hoarsely.

The hatred in his voice was deeper than anything he had ever directed at another living being.

"After I kill you, I’ll torture everyone close to you. I’ll drink their blood and feed their bones to my dogs!" he screamed hysterically. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Thoren slowly turned his head and looked at Fenric.

For a brief moment, his gaze was bone-chilling.

Then he calmly averted his eyes.

His attention shifted to the hundreds of skeletons marching toward him from the fissure.

Since the day he began building his undead army, he had never encountered anyone capable of rivaling him in this domain.

Not once.

The skeletal horde continued to advance, their numbers swelling with each passing second. Their hollow sockets seemed fixed on him alone.

Thoren’s expression remained indifferent.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Let me show you," he said quietly, his voice carrying across the frozen wasteland, "what true despair looks like."