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While falling through the dark pit, Mark was awestruck by what he saw.
"What is this place? Is this where you were thrown, Elayne?" he asked, gritting his teeth. "Ugh...!"
"Yes. I spent ten years here," Elayne replied. "And it’s where I’ve decided to place my second Domain Core."
"Domain Core?!" Mark gasped. "What? How?! This is...! Haha..."
Despite the pain and everything he had endured, he laughed. With Elayne, he couldn’t help but feel genuine joy and wonder whenever she did sothing this outrageous.
FLASH!
They pierced through the darkness as the pit stretched endlessly beneath them.
And then...
"Mama! The Domain is ready to move!"
"Okay, dear. Let’s go, then."
At Little Hope’s words, the entire space within the Domain began to shift.
Elayne and her companions descended to the bottom of the pit.
A vast cave awaited them, illuminated by giant glowing mushrooms and lush moss clinging to the walls.
At its center, surrounded by black roots, stood a glowing crystal—blue and red, the size of a car.
Little Hope’s soul resided within.
"Woah..."
Mark looked around. The cavern was large enough to house nearly a hundred Undead comfortably—those who had chosen to escape by leaping into the pit.
RUMBLE!
The Domain began to move.
Like a bubble of air trapped underground, the cave—this enclosed space—slid through stone and soil.
When the spatial disturbances finally vanished from the White Bone Camp, all that remained was the sa dark pit.
But the mushrooms and moss were gone.
Everything and everyone who had jumped into the abyss had vanished without a trace.
Many were left bewildered, especially the weaker, simpler undead who had been cast into the pit.
What they had done resembled a form of advanced space magic.
Yet none of them possessed such affinity. If they had, they would have been sent to the Sorcery Clan to be trained by a Lich and molded into proper Wizards.
Though so had shown unique abilities, their personalities made them unfit to grow strong like the champion.
They were thrown into the pit to either perish from soul starvation or serve as prey for the champion to demonstrate his strength.
But Blazer’s entire plan had been undone by Elayne.
Using the knowledge she had retained from her life, she introduced the Netherworld to spells and magics the Undead had never seen.
In the Netherworld, there were no such things as Farr Class Skills—let alone Spirit Nature Magic, known only in the Living World.
The Withering Tree Race ca closest, but they rely controlled tree-like monsters and had no understanding of the power Elayne wielded.
"Commander Blazer is dead. What do we do now?"
"Without him, are we allowed to escape?"
"I an... the gates are right there. No one’s guarding them."
"Damn it. Maybe I should’ve joined that woman..."
The Undead Guards murmured among themselves.
Though they had once feared defecting, now that Blazer was gone, many began to reconsider.
However...
"So that useless bastard Blazer is dead, huh?"
"Not only did his ’champion’ betray him, but the zombie he scorned and cast into the pit turned out to be a greater threat than he ever imagined."
"This is what happens when we let a fool run everything..."
Three towering figures entered the ruined city, each radiating imnse power.
Their Nether Cores and Souls had been cultivated far beyond those of ordinary Undead.
The first was a giant, muscular zombie over three ters tall, stitched together from various corpses and embedded with tallic parts that crackled with lightning.
He led an army of two thousand undead. He was known as the Rotting Goliath—Franken.
The second was a ghostly woman composed of purple and red flas, surrounded by a noxious, toxic smoke that ford the shape of a dress.
A spiked crown of crystallized poison adorned her head, and her flowing "hair" shimred like liquid venom.
She commanded two thousand five hundred undead. She was the Poisonous Ghostly Madam—Bellarine.
The third was a monstrous chiric skeleton, forged from the bones of countless beasts.
His imnse body resembled a six-legged creature with multiple heads, wings, and tails.
He led three thousand undead. He was the Bone Tyrant—Atrokus.
These three commanders had been monitoring White Bone City for so ti, instructed only to supervise Blazer and manage their own forces.
Now, with Blazer dead, they had been ordered by the higher-ups to investigate what had happened—and to identify the mysterious revolutionary among the zombies.
"The pit is completely empty," Bellarine said, inspecting it with her ghostly form. "I believe the woman used a special formation she placed underground to teleport elsewhere."
"How could she create a formation as a re zombie, with no knowledge or resources?!" Franken growled. "It makes no sense!"
"We are no longer dealing with ordinary undead, Franken. Common sense no longer applies," Atrokus rumbled. "We must consider this zombie woman... exceptional. But where did she co from? Who is she? What is her na? Does anyone know anything? That fool Blazer died before reporting a single detail... tch."
"Well..."
"We know very little, my lord..."
"We rely watched over the pit for ten years..."
"Commander Blazer told us to ensure they didn’t escape, and we did..."
The Undead Guards tried to explain, but Atrokus turned his many empty eye sockets toward them.
Flas blazed from each one.
"Is that so?" Atrokus said. "Well then... Bellarine, it’s your turn to interrogate them. Do as you please."
"Oh? Fufu, gladly, senior," Bellarine chuckled, her smoke spreading ominously.
"Gaaack!"
"Please, have rcy!"
"W-We didn’t do anything, we swear!"
"Exactly!" Franken roared, slamming his fists down and pulverizing a skeleton guard into white dust.
"That’s why we have to clean up your ss—because you did nothing! Useless bastards, all of you! Can’t you do a single thing right?!"
"Please spare us!"
"Gyaaaah! The commander is furious!"
"Have rcy! We’re just low-ranking guards!"
"And that," Atrokus said coldly, "is precisely why White Bone City is in chaos.
With Blazer dead, soone must take responsibility.
And you—his loyal servants—are next in line."
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