Loren walked with extre caution, because if he wasn't careful, he would step on rotting corpses.
Flies the size of beans directly collided with Loren's body, even causing a bit of pain.
Wails echoed in Loren's ears. This was a small country whose na Loren didn't even rember. The people here were even less likely to leave their nas behind, vanishing from this world like dust, all glory and beauty having nothing to do with them.
"You should not fall silent like this."
Loren drank the Brilliance Potion, his intelligence temporarily rising by a large margin. He drew Requiem from its sheath, holding up the scabbard. The other end of the scabbard was clamped under Loren's neck, the blade pressed against the scabbard.
In Loren's hands, Requiem had completely transford into a violin.
The blade slid across the red thread on the scabbard, playing out a lody that penetrated deep into the soul.
What Loren offered these dead was not a sorrowful elegy, but a passionate song of vengeance.
As the music played, Loren gradually imrsed himself in it, and the Soul Blood Oath was perfectly released at this mont. In the air, a wandering soul that was invisible and untouchable suddenly materialized. His expression remained frozen in the mont before his death, filled with despair, his eyes hollow and lifeless.
But soon, his expression began to change, becoming ferocious. His body also underwent a mutation, gradually twisting. His powerless hands grew sharp claws, and his once-blocked mouth sprouted fangs, already transford into a monster born for revenge.
Such mutations were everywhere around Loren. Transforming each wandering soul consud over fifty points of Loren's Mana. Others who used this spell only summoned an uncontrollable elite monster to disrupt the enemy;
only Loren dared to use it like this.
After all, what was summoned were elite monsters. Because they were uncontrollable, the Mana cost was low, but Loren couldn't help summoning too many. His Mana was rapidly depleted, and at the sa ti, Loren's spirit bore the burden. A sixth-tier necromancy spell was not so easy to use.
Dense, swarming undead creatures blotted out the moon. Looking up, Loren couldn't see the blood-red moon, only a horde of ferocious, monstrous faces.
Loren stopped playing. His Mana was now only around one thousand, roughly the level of an eighth or ninth-tier Mage.
Uncontrollably, blood flowed from Loren's seven orifices. Transforming so many high-tier undead at once would kill any living person;
only Loren could still hold on.
Requiem was sheathed by Loren, temporarily used as a crutch to support his tottering body.
Loren suddenly revealed a smile. With so many high-tier undead, even an Angel would have several layers of skin worn away. Anyone below the Angel level who ca would be useless.
However, while casting the spell, Loren also sensed sothing amiss. There were too few wandering souls here, not on the sa scale as the number of dead people. So, soone capable of tampering with souls must have been here.
So many wandering souls—even so powerful necromancers couldn't collect them all. Those who could achieve this were few. The image of the Greed Witch surfaced in Loren's mind.
The Greed Witch's greed was endless. After devouring enough souls, she would tear her own soul apart to continue expanding her appetite.
Her soul would transform into a pack of wolves to tear at the souls of her enemies. Each wolf was a part of the Greed Witch's soul, so as long as one wolf remained alive, the Greed Witch would not die.
These wolves transford from the Greed Witch's soul had a very distinctive appearance. Although they appeared black on the surface, it was a "colorful, iridescent black," extrely brilliant and vibrant.
If the one who caused all this was the Greed Witch, that would be fine;
there might even be a chance to lure her back. What Loren feared was that it was soone else. That's why Loren had been feigning weakness all this ti. If anyone dared to ambush him, Loren dared to guarantee that the magic he had been charging for a long ti would blast them to death instantly.
And this wasn't all. These undead weren't strong enough to cause serious damage to the Canaan Kingdom.
"Feel this overwhelming resentnt, God of Hatred Ligoss. This hatred is enough to blot out the sky and sun. No one in this world should be killed by others without reason. They should not be like lambs to the slaughter, powerless to resist.
"Now, they are all dead. These people who have lost everything have only hatred left.
"I ask you, grant them power, bestow upon them the ability for revenge."
As soon as the words fell, black miasma completely covered the sky. This ti, the scale far surpassed the previous attack on the Royal Capital of the Gedlan Kingdom.
If anyone else borrowed this much power from an Outer God, going mad would probably be a minor matter;
it might even cause a situation where every cell in their body sought revenge against the human form.
"It's not over yet! It's still not enough!"
The Strength Card floated before Loren, radiating light. As Loren's emotions grew increasingly intense, the light emitted by the Strength Card continued to spread, eventually enveloping all the undead. They felt Loren's emotions and drew strength from his emotions—strength from the depths of their hearts.
Activating the Strength Card didn't consu anything, but Loren collapsed to the ground as if he had exhausted all his strength.
After receiving the Strength Card's blessing, these undead were filled with righteous energy and an unstoppable montum, seemingly capable of tearing apart anything blocking their path, even an Angel.
"God of Fear, Thousand-Faced Dread Ignatius, what could be more terrifying than people who have lost everything, who have even lost their lives?
"Don't you want to add a vivid stroke to this ultimate fear? Co, let the kingdom that loves spreading fear fall into ultimate terror!"
The stronger the emotion represented, the stronger the corresponding Outer God. And humanity's most primal emotion is fear.
Therefore, the most powerful Outer Gods are the Goddess of Love and the God of Fear.
Loren felt it. He received a response from the God of Fear. The undead in the sky underwent another change, but this ti, no words could describe their appearance.
Unspeakable, unseeable.
"Now, please carry out your sacred vengeance."
Loren forced himself to stand up, fervently shouting these words as if he truly were so insane necromancer.
In an instant, all the undead vanished from Loren's sight. He was very much looking forward to what they would do.
The commotion he caused with these actions was not small. The living people nearby should have all fled. Even if they didn't, those undead with clear purposes wouldn't target them.
Loren was just worried that official personnel would co looking for him. Then, fighting or not fighting would both be problematic, and he absolutely couldn't reveal his true identity. It was very troubleso, so Loren planned to hurry back.
After feigning weakness for so long, no one else had appeared. But just as Loren was leaving, he heard so strange noises. The sound ca from a pile of rubble. A rotten hand stretched out from the fragnts of debris, and that hand twitched.
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