Limitless Undead System! I can Copy all Undead attributes.-Chapter 70: Escape door

The group of Awakened finally reached the door, each of them shoulder‑clashing their way into the rough body of the massive structure all at once, hoping, praying, to burst their way out of the Throne Room before whatever nightmare lurked behind them could move again.

However, their effort was put to waste.

The door did not bulge. It did not creak. It did not even acknowledge them. The moment their combined force met its surface, an invisible resistance answered back, sending them staggering away as if they had slammed into solid stone instead of carved metal.

"The bitch won’t budge!" one of them yelled, planting both hands against the door and shoving again with a desperate snarl.

Others joined him immediately.

Groups formed without orders three here, five there. All of them pushing, kicking, shoulder‑crashing into the formidable door with mounting panic. Boots slammed against it. Armor scraped. Flesh bruised.

Nothing happened.

Instead—

A bright spark flared before them, sharp and blinding, existing for no more than a heartbeat. In the very next instant, a thin line of white light formed from the surface of the door. It moved quick and precise, slicing through the air like a surgeon’s blade.

It cut through throats.

Blood sprayed the stone floor in sudden, violent arcs as the Awakened fell where they stood, heads parting from bodies before their minds could even register pain. The corpses collapsed in a wet chorus, lifeless before they struck the ground.

At the sight, every Awakened near the door stepped back instinctively, horror freezing them in place.

"He placed traps around the door! Everyone, back off!" Brian stepped forward, yelling to the group with a hoarse urgency.

Luckily, they listened.

Each of them retreated, fear finally overriding desperation. No one went down after the few who had already lost their heads. Still, the truth loomed heavy over them, they needed to find a way out of this hell, and they needed to do it fast, before the Eldritch King broke free from Silva’s command.

"Check the walls!" Brian shouted again. "There has to be a second way out. Hurry!"

No one disobeyed.

They spread out at once, fingers scraping along cold stone, eyes darting over statues, pillars, and engraved walls. Some shoved against marble slabs. Others examined carvings with shaking hands. Every breath carried the weight of panic as they searched for anything... Anything that might serve as an escape. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Steven, who had been climbing the stairs toward Shawn, saw all of this unfold below. His gut twisted unpleasantly.

’Of course there isn’t much of a way out through there,’ he thought grimly.

That realization dragged his thoughts inward.

So where was the second way out?

Steven summoned Nott.

The Grey Knight appeared beside him in a muted shimmer, armor dull and ancient, presence heavy with the scent of death and old battlefields. Without exchanging words, the two of them hurried up the stairs together.

"Every King has a second way out, especially in a throne room," Steven said as they climbed. "You’re a knight... or were one. You’ll have more experience than us modern pricks when it comes to things like this."

Nott nodded, his head swaying from left to right and momentarily back again as they ascended. His movements were stiff, unnatural, but purposeful.

At the top, they reached the Eldritch King.

And Shawn.

Shawn was still groveling on the floor, his massive body slumped and trembling. The fat man was no longer shaking violently, but he was crying openly now, thick tears rolling down his cheeks as he clutched his stump. Strangely, most of the wound had already healed, flesh knitting together in an unnatural pattern.

Steven paused, dazed by the sight.

Then he remembered.

The man’s ability—to weave.

His brow furrowed. "Couldn’t you have just... weaved yourself a new arm?"

Shawn flinched at the comment, misunderstanding it as mockery, but relief flickered unmistakably in his eyes at Steven’s presence. "T—Thank you," he managed to mutter, voice thick with pain and exhaustion.

Steven smiled faintly at the reply before turning his gaze to the Eldritch King.

The being stood frozen, its monstrous eyes still locked onto Silva below. Power radiated from it in suffocating waves, even while restrained.

’It would be so much easier,’ Steven imagined, ’to just drive my sword through its throat.’

But he knew better.

Victory would be short‑lived.

Driving his blade home might not even kill the Eldritch. Worse, it could anger the creature further, shattering the effects of Silva’s skill and freeing it to attack once again.

And with the rage burning inside that monster, Steven was certain none of them would last a single second once it moved.

Steven helped the injured Shawn to his feet and passed him over to the Grey Knight. Nott accepted the weight without complaint, steadying the man easily.

Then Nott pointed.

Straight at the throne.

Steven frowned. What was he supposed to see there? The throne itself? Something behind it?

He stepped closer to the pristine seat of power, its surface untouched by dust or time. Then he walked past it, eyes scanning the area beyond.

There was only a short descent of stairs.

At the end of it, a normal wall.

"What am I supposed to see here?" Steven muttered.

{Your affinity to the dead is increased around the dead}

The notification flashed before his eyes.

The world shifted.

Everything took on a washed‑out white hue, as if life itself had been drained from the scene. Everything—except one section of the wall.

That part was pitch black.

Perfectly outlined.

Shaped unmistakably like a door.

It was so well hidden that Steven doubted they would have ever noticed it without his ability and without Nott’s instincts guiding him here.

{Ding!}

Steven turned away at once and hurried back to Nott and Shawn. Then he leaned over the edge of the stairs, shouting down toward Silva and her guards.

"I’m gonna need two idiots, Silva!" he yelled with all his might.

At first, there was no reaction.

Then came shouting. Arguments. Glares thrown upward.

After a brief but heated exchange, two men broke formation. Without hesitation, they sprinted up the stairs toward Steven, boots pounding against stone.

As they approached, Steven’s lips curled upward.

He stared at the system prompt again.

And almost lost control laughing.

{Warning: A human sacrifice is needed to open the door. Avoid being the one to open the door}