Chapter Twenty-Four: Inferior Deadlings

BOOM!

A loud explosion shattered several bookshelves, sending planks and various books spiraling to the ground. Twilight was no exception.

At first, he had thought he stood a fighting chance against the Deadling Lord — Ashahell. But he had been sorely mistaken.

They had been fighting for only a few minutes, yet he was already at a complete disadvantage. In fact, calling it a battle would be extremely generous — this was a one-sided beating.

Twilight couldn't even put up any resistance. He could only endure the relentless onslaught without the ability to retaliate.

It was beyond frustrating. He had to admit that there was a vast difference between a magic apostle and a magic warrior, one that couldn't be underestimated.

Though it was just a single major realm apart, the gap was immense. And coupled with Ashahell's godlike combat skills, Twilight saw no chance of victory in the least.

His only option was to find an exit, escape this room, and put as much distance as possible between himself and Ashahell. Otherwise, only death awaited him, nothing else.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Twilight crashed onto the marble floor, a pained yelp escaping his lips.

Without hesitation, he lunged to the side, barely dodging Ashahell's punch.

As his gaze darted around, he spotted a large golden door at the end of the hall.

Previously, the maze-like shelves had concealed it, making it nearly impossible to notice.

But when Ashahell obliterated several bookshelves with his technique, the path to the door was revealed.

Twilight exhaled in relief and sprinted toward it, unwilling to waste another second.

"Where do you think you're going, human?!" Ashahell growled, leaping into the air and spinning downward, aiming straight for the fleeing Twilight.

'Damn it!' Twilight cursed inwardly.

But before he could react, Ashahell was already upon him.

Without hesitation, Twilight activated a movement technique, desperately trying to evade Ashahell's attack.

Charging Flare!

His speed skyrocketed. With his second-stage magic apostle constitution boosting him, his movements seemed almost supernatural.

Yet, even now, Ashahell caught up, his fist filling Twilight's vision.

'Damn it! Why is he so strong?!' Twilight cursed again, no longer willing to hold anything back.

A white mist rose from the ground, swirling and solidifying into the form of the Night Wing soon after.

This was the summon he had acquired through his summon array.

But there was no time for idle thoughts. Twilight quickly leaped onto the Night Wing's back.

As soon as he stabilized himself, the summon shot into the air at terrifying speed, racing toward the golden door.

Ashahell let out a maddening roar.

"HUMAN! YOU DARE TOY WITH ME?! DIE!!!"

His voice dripped with cold killing intent, making Twilight involuntarily shiver on the Night Wing's back.

Still, he gritted his teeth, refusing to slow down.

The flying creature flapped its wings harder, accelerating at an unbelievable rate.

But then, Twilight glanced back and saw Ashahell chanting. A red mist swirled around him, consuming his form.

Extreme unease coiled in Twilight's stomach when he saw this.

Ashahell's horn darkened, shifting from its pale white to a deep crimson.

"I congratulate you for forcing me to this extent, human. However, this farce ends now."

With a single wave of his hand, the red mist expanded rapidly, flooding the entire hall.

Twilight didn't linger. He pushed the Night Wing forward, urging it to move faster.

And within moments, they reached the golden door. L

Twilight jumped off the Night Wing's back, his figure rapidly plummeting.

Silent Steps!

He landed on the marble floor without a sound.

Without pausing, he sprinted toward the door, giving his summon a command to hold Ashahell back... even if only for two seconds.

He wasn't a fool. Ashahell's power far exceeded the Night Wing's. There was no hope of it winning.

Still, even a brief delay might be enough.

Twilight felt no guilt or pain at sacrificing his first summon. His own life mattered more.

If he died, the summon would perish anyway. After all, summons disintegrated when their summoner was slain.

Shoving these thoughts aside, Twilight kicked open the large door before him, not sparing even a moment to admire its pristine beauty.

But what lay beyond was something he wished he could unsee.

The passage beyond the golden door was littered with corpses.

And they weren't human.

They looked like Ashahell, exempting their horns, which were smaller, and their bodies, that were thinner.

Inferior Deadling!

Twilight was sure of it.

Unlike Deadlings, inferior Deadlings were like mindless beasts.

They had no thoughts. No sanity. No kinship.

They existed only to destroy, slaughter and devour.

A shiver crawled down Twilight's spine as he examined the scene.

Blood painted the walls and the floor had become a river of crimson.

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A thick red mist blanketed the passage, making visibility a rare luxury.

A pungent, stomach-churning stench filled the air, threatening to make him retch.

Beyond the mist, however, faint shadows stirred. Shadows that were barely visible.

Twilight squinted, trying to see through the haze.

Then... he saw them.

Dozens of inferior Deadlings.

They all stared at him, hunger gleaming in their hollow eyes.

"Shiaaia!"

They shrieked like beasts and charged at astonishing speed.

Twilight's lingering doubts immediately vanished.

If he still had some apprehension about his suspected presence in a death zone, they were now proven.

He was in the Deadlands!

A death zone.

The lair of inferior deadlings and deadlings alike.

With pounding heart, he grabbed the door's massive handles and pulled, slamming it shut behind him.

He would rather face a sane Ashahell than innumerable mindless inferior deadlings.

By now, Twilight was certain. The sovereign system was crazy.

How could it send newbies to a death zone even top cultivators of Earth regarded with dread?

'This is insane. Just what the sovereign system thinking?' he thought, his expression darkening.

Then, turning back, his gaze locked onto the battle — or rather, the merciless beating — between Ashahell and his summon.

Ashahell gripped the Night Wing's claw, hurling it into a nearby bookshelf.

BOOM!

With a thunderous sound, the impact sent planks flying, shaking the entire hall.

'What to do? What to do? What to do...?' Twilight bit his lower lip, mind racing for a solution.

Then...

Inspiration struck.