Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons Chapter 279: A Voice That Was His Own

Thoren rode the undead Sanguine Vulture deeper into the vast desert. With the appearance of the dry oasis, his heart pounded with eager anticipation.

Traveling for over one hundred ters, Thoren finally saw it. The ancient ruin lay before him, hidden from plain sight.

If he had not been flying on the back of the undead Sanguine Vulture, it would have been very hard to detect that what lay before him was actually a ruin.

Surrounding the ruin were giant sand dunes, completely blocking the ruin’s entrance. This gave the illusion that there was nothing but endless sand dunes for miles.

Apart from that, at the top of the sand dunes, a fierce wind blew heavily across the peaks.

rely listening to the sound of the howling wind would send shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it.

However, all of this did not deter Thoren’s excitent and determination.

Since he had discovered the ruin, everything else could easily be solved with patience.

He commanded the undead Sanguine Vulture to fly closer to the fierce wind, but he did not get too close to be affected by the dangerous sand and wind.

He watched the wind for a couple of minutes, trying to find any patterns in its movent. Slowly, he discovered that the deadly sand wind reduced greatly on the third movent of its cycle.

On the third movent, the wind beca gentle for close to three seconds before it beca fierce and dangerous once again.

With this discovery, a faint, slow smile crept up his face. He did not care if there were other passages into the ruin, but he was going to use this thod to enter.

He held his breath, and his grip on the undead Sanguine Vulture’s feathers tightened.

Patiently, he waited for the right mont to make his move.

On the third movent, he commanded the undead Sanguine Vulture to move at full speed.

Whoosh!

The undead Sanguine Vulture vanished from its position at a dazzling, breathtaking speed.

Before Thoren could even blink, they were above the ruin, with the fierce wind howling dangerously behind them.

Seeing that his prediction had been correct, Thoren’s smile deepened, and he averted his gaze from the wind.

Looking down at the ruin, Thoren creased his brow, and the faint smile on his face vanished completely.

His expression beca solemn and grave.

Slowly, he commanded the undead Sanguine Vulture to descend to the ground. Landing on the sandy floor, he withdrew the undead vulture and summoned two undead servants for protection.

Thoren and his undead servants stood in the middle of what was once a thriving dwelling of people. A stable bazaar now lay half subrged in amber colored sand.

The buildings leaned at impossible angles, their foundations eaten away by centuries of abrasive, unforgiving wind.

Taking a deep breath, Thoren watched his surroundings for one last ti before he lifted his foot and moved forward. His boot landed softly on the dry sand, making little to no sound.

He walked past the crumbling buildings and fallen pillars. At first, the ruin was no different from any ordinary ruin he had explored before.

But as he journeyed deeper into the ruin, he realized he was completely wrong.

Leaving behind what looked like the commoner area, he found twelve faded marble pillars. Each one was carved with fading astrological charts that looked like dying trees in the dim light.

The three pillars still standing upright were cracked from top to bottom, humming faintly when sand grains passed through their fissures.

The other nine pillars had fallen, forming a jagged bridge over a deep, sand filled sinkhole.

Thoren took everything in with slow, calculated observation. The astrological charts already spoke volus about what this ruin might truly be about.

Still, he reined in his thoughts as he stepped onto the broken pillars. He walked on the fallen stones, using them as makeshift bridges to pass to the other side.

On the other side was a rectangular plaza where sothing seed to have detonated long ago. Sand and stones had fused together into a rippling sheet of black green obsidian.

The ground surface was slick and treacherously smooth, etched with a vanishing silhouette that hinted at a massive explosion.

Looking at everything before him, Thoren’s expression was grave. Of all the ruins he had explored, this one seed to be the most mysterious and unsettling.

The air blew normally around him.

There was no sense of tension at all.

His perception did not detect any beasts, not even small animals that lived in the desert sand. Everything was terrifyingly quiet and empty.

All of these points pointed to one thing.

Danger.

In a place like a ruin, complete silence almost always ans danger.

"I need to be very careful," he muttered and summoned three more undead servants to join the first two.

Just from the attitude of the Jackal Chief, he knew this ruin was far from being simple. There must be sothing terrifying hiding inside.

Unfortunately for him, he would not leave this ruin until he found what he had co for. This was his firm determination.

Just as he prepared to walk further on the slick, smooth surface, he heard a voice.

Hmm?

He halted his movent and creased his brow. He turned his head and looked in the direction of the voice.

’Is this what I am thinking?’ he wondered.

Just as he was thinking whether he had heard wrong, the sound echoed once again.

"Sigh. I need to be careful," the voice said.

This ti, he heard it cleanly and clearly. The voice was no other than his own.

’How is this possible?’ Alarm rang loudly in his mind.

He looked around, pushing his perception to its absolute limit. Suddenly, his voice echoed once again.

"Sigh. All I want to find is treasure. Why am I so unlucky?"

Listening to the voice mimicking his own, Thoren had goosebumps all over his body. His eyes darted left and right, while his heart pounded heavily against his chest.

He knew sothing was mimicking his voice, but what kind of creature could do such a thing?

The ruins had fallen silent again. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

Thoren stood perfectly still, his undead servants forming a protective circle around him.

Whatever was out there, whatever was mimicking his voice, it was watching him.

Waiting for him to make a mistake.

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