Chapter Thirty Six: Undead King

The next morning, I woke to warmth pressing against me. My hand brushed against soft skin, smooth and delicate, and my half-asleep mind froze.Leila was sleeping soundly in my bed. Last time it was that girl and now Leila, is it a custom i dont know? Feeling i had awoken, she hurriedly jumped out of bed embarrassed. 
“I-I’m going back. I only came to check on you.” Without another glance, she shoved the curtain aside and stormed out.
I collapsed back onto the bed, exhaling hard. “Phew…” What was that all about? She was acting so strange.
Later, when I peeked outside, Leila was tugging at the dragon she’d arrived with—a female, who kept pressing herself against Duddul, trying to coax him. She wanted his genes, no doubt, to bear a half-red dragon. Duddul resisted, playing hard to get.
I changed into my black adventurer’s gear and ate a quick breakfast. Leila had left behind a jar of milk on my desk. After feeding and watering Duddul, I turned toward the barrier.
Clank! Clank!
The graveyard was alive with steel. The area had shrunk to twenty meters across, graves yawning open one by one.
When I arrived, it had still been three hundred meters wide. Waves of skeletons had surged forth, their armor growing stronger with each stage—yellow, orange, blue, ash, white. Duddul and I fought side by side, cutting them down, until exhaustion forced him back. By the time the red-armored knight emerged, only I remained.
He was unlike the rest.
Fully armored, head to toe, like a towering samurai of death. Two meters tall, a massive sword triple the size of mine resting easily in his hands. The crimson blade glowed with a faint, ominous line stretching from hilt to tip.
Duddul staggered, unwilling to retreat, but I pointed my sword at him, forcing him to leave. I couldn’t let him die here.
Clank! Clank!
Steel rang as I blocked another strike. His strength was overwhelming, his movements impossibly fast for such heavy armor. Every time I blocked, his boot lashed out, kicking me back, forcing me to scramble.
We were equals in power, but his experience dwarfed mine.
I held back my wave. I wanted to test myself. To clash with him blade-to-blade. To grow stronger, even if it meant pain.
But pain came swiftly.
His strikes flowed like water—one blow blending into the next. A thrust slipped past my guard and slammed into my stomach.
“Guh!” The air rushed from my lungs. I staggered, blood dripping, though my clothes remained strangely intact.
Before I could recover, his massive blade descended. I leapt back, but his boot cracked against my face.
“Ugh!” I collapsed, dazed.
The next instant, pain seared my hand. His sword had pinned it to the ground, the steel piercing through flesh and earth alike.
“GAAAH!” I screamed as my energy drained, my hand paling as if life itself was being sucked away.
He advanced, shadow looming. Desperation surged. I waited until he wrenched the blade free—then unleashed a wave from my mouth.
Not enough. The force sent him back, exposing the bones bare. 
“It’s time to get serious,” I growled, blood dripping from my chin.
Gazelle jump—my body launched back. Gazelle jump again—I shot forward, closing the distance. My blade carved upward, slicing through armor, his chest to helmet —only for his bones to knit back together.
Snarling, I headbutted his exposed forehead with all my strength. His skull rattled, snapping back. Seizing the opening, I clenched my fist—kangaroo gloves lending me power—and drove it through his neck. His head toppled, rolling.
I didn’t stop. Like a boxing beast, I weaved left and right, fists raining down in a relentless barrage. My punches shattered his crimson armor, splintered bone, driving him backward with every blow.
The wound in my stomach knit shut mid-fight.
But then his head reattached, his fists lashing out. His speed was terrifying, but I had learned. His punches crossed. I ducked low, slipped inside his guard, and let the kangaroo gloves carry me.
Uppercut.
“RAAAH!” My fist smashed into his chin. His skull rocketed skyward, spinning.
Before it touched the ground, I launched a wave.
BOOM.
The skeleton exploded into dust.
But more came. One after another, red-armored knights, five in total. I fought, bled, endured, and destroyed them all.
At last, silence.
“I’m beat,” I gasped, body trembling.
The ground shuddered.
The graveyard shrank to ten meters. A glass-like barrier sealed me in.
The sky split with thunder.
A skeleton landed from above, the impact rattling my bones.
Three meters tall, clad in black armor thick as night. A massive sword gripped in one hand. Black bones beneath the plates glimmered faintly, stronger than steel.
On his forehead, glowing letters etched themselves into my vision.
Undead Prince.
The world outside the barrier warped. The trees vanished. Darkness swallowed everything.
A throne appeared—massive, built of bones.
And from the abyss, a figure rose.
The sound of bones grinding filled the air. Heavy, deliberate.
The figure sat upon the throne, draping a black cape over its shoulders. Torches ignited on their own, flames bathing the skeletal king in a dreadful glow.
His bones were thick, ancient, his skull crowned in jagged bone.
On his forehead, the words blazed.
Undead King.
The inside of the barrier was nothing like the outside. The air itself felt heavy, pressing down on me, cutting off every escape route. I was caged in, and before me stood a monster unlike any of the skeletons I had faced so far.
His aura was suffocating—an invisible weight that threatened to crush me before he even moved.
The sword he carried was enormous. Its blade rested lazily on the ground, yet the hilt still reached up to his thigh—and this was despite him being over three meters tall. Compared to me, the sheer difference was humiliating. His blade alone stood nearly my height, wide and thick with a sinister black line running down its middle. Unlike the other skeletons, whose weapons bore red veins of power, his sword looked as though it had been carved from darkness itself.
Bad-ump! Bad-ump!
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I raised my sword in front of me, inching backward, testing the barrier. Maybe—just maybe—I could retreat. I had already fought wave after wave of skeletons for what felt like hours. And now, they wanted me to fight this thing? A boss? Impossible.
My back slammed against something solid. I pressed my palm against it—smooth, cold, like glass. The barrier. There was no way out. Even if I could escape through it, I’d only end up outside in that endless black void where the Undead King lurked. My instincts screamed at me: Better to die here than out there.
I swallowed hard and steadied my breathing. My eyes shifted from the towering prince before me to the unmoving King sitting on his throne just beyond the barrier. The king didn’t so much as twitch—his skull locked on me like a predator observing its prey.
What now…?
Before I could answer my own question, the air shifted. A cold gust swept across my face. Then everything went dark—overshadowed.
The prince had moved.
He stood right in front of me, closer than I could stomach. His eyeless sockets leaked a thin stream of red smoke—an omen of death itself. That crimson haze radiated danger so sharp it made my lungs tighten.
He held his sword casually in one hand, but in the next instant, his arm blurred and vanished.
I reacted on instinct—raising my blade horizontally, my left hand bracing it.
“CLANK!”
The sound ripped through the barrier, echoing like a death bell.
The prince’s vertical strike slammed against my sword. The impact was monstrous. My knees buckled instantly, and I crashed down, trembling under the weight of his power.
Blood trickled from my palms, where the hilt dug in hard enough to tear skin. My hands throbbed with numbness.
I forced my eyes upward, tracing from his towering legs to his chest… but before I could find his head, pain exploded in my skull.
His boot.
His massive right leg whipped out and struck my head like a hammer. My face cracked against the ground, my ear pressed into the dirt as blood trickled down hot and sticky.
ZIIING!
A piercing, endless ringing filled my ears. My vision blurred. My thoughts scattered.
But the attacks didn’t stop.
His foot shifted, flipping me onto my back. Now I was staring helplessly at the monster looming above me, his massive blade poised vertically above my chest, the edge gleaming cold and merciless.
I couldn’t move. My body refused. My eyes only fluttered weakly as the blade descended.
Then—
White-hot pain.
It was as if fire spread through every nerve in my body at once. His sword tore through me, stabbing deep into my chest. My breath caught. I couldn’t even scream.
It felt like my brain was melting, my heart shredded. The chill of death wrapped around me, seeping deep into my bones.
Light. I saw light running up his sword, draining from me into him. Each flicker of it was a piece of me—my life, my strength, my everything.
My body weakened. My eyes closed. Darkness welcomed me.
But then… something shifted.
The weight vanished. The blade was gone.
The pain remained—a searing wound in my chest—but I felt strangely lighter. Like my body had been hollowed out.
I blinked. Once. Twice.
The prince was walking away, his dark armor glinting faintly as he moved toward the king beyond the barrier.
I forced my head to tilt down, staring at my chest. My shirt was untouched. No hole. No tear. Just clean fabric stretched over bloodless skin. The pain was there, raw and brutal, but no scar showed.
So… my clothes can withstand his attacks. Then it’s not them that’s weak—it’s me.
I staggered to my feet, leaning heavily on my sword for balance. My legs trembled, my mouth dripping blood, but my will burned hotter.
“Hey… you…” My voice cracked, but I spat the words anyway. “…It’s not over.”
When I looked down at my sword, my stomach twisted. Its edge was drenched in blood—my blood. The ground beneath me stained red from what I had already lost.
Fury lit me ablaze.
How dare you!
Heat spread through me, boiling my veins. Not the heat of injury—something deeper. Something primal.
The prince turned. His empty gaze locked on me again.
Then he disappeared.
And so did I.
Our blades clashed mid-motion, faster than my eyes could register. The impact rattled the barrier.
“CLAAANK!”
The shockwave blasted me backward. My spine cracked against the barrier, the breath ripped from my lungs.
“GAAAH!”
Pain roared through my body. But my mind was clear. I already knew what was coming.
If I were him, I’d follow up instantly—pierce my opponent before they recovered.
And that’s exactly what he did.
His massive frame soared upward, blade descending toward me midair. But I was ready.
I kicked hard against the barrier, launching myself forward. My body shot into the air, momentum carrying me straight into him.
Our swords met in the sky.
This was it.
One attack. One kill.
His massive vertical strike tore downward toward me. My horizontal swing sliced across his waistline. Neither of us could dodge. Both blades were committed.
But I had one last trick.
“KAAA!”
A wave of energy burst from my mouth, shoving my body aside at the last instant. His blade screamed past, missing me by centimeters.
He stumbled, pulled down by the weight of his missed strike. His head bent low, his upper body folding.
And his neck—exposed.
I swung.
My sword crashed down with every ounce of strength I had left.
“KAAAAN!”
Steel cleaved through bone. His head severed cleanly, tumbling away.
I didn’t hesitate.
“KA!”
Another wave blasted from my mouth, disintegrating the head before it could touch the ground.
Victory surged through me. But before my body could celebrate, his armored hand shot up like a viper.
He grabbed my leg.
And whipped me.
The ground shattered beneath me as he slammed me left, right, left again. I lost my grip on my sword. My skull rattled, the world spinning.
Still headless, he spun me above his body, then hurled me against the barrier.
CRAAASH!
My body crumpled. My head rang, my vision dizzy.
But the fight wasn’t over.
Not yet. 
The barrier hummed behind me, still vibrating from the impact of my body. My chest heaved as I struggled to drag in a breath. My skull throbbed, the world spinning in drunken circles.
But the prince didn’t relent.
Even without a head, his body moved with terrifying precision. His armor clanked as he advanced, relentless, his sword dragging against the ground with a scraping growl.
My legs wobbled, but I forced them to hold. I had no choice.
We clashed again.
Steel screamed against steel, sparks bursting in the confined barrier. My arms burned with every swing. He pressed down on me with sheer brute force, each strike heavy enough to split boulders in half. I couldn’t overpower him. My only chance was to dodge, redirect, survive.
And survive I did. His blade gouged the ground where I stood seconds before. His kicks whistled past my ribs. His punches slammed the barrier instead of my skull. Bit by bit, I adapted. My movements grew sharper, my dodges tighter.
But the truth was clear: I couldn’t win like this.
Then it happened.
A voice cut through the battle, chilling me to my bones.
“Boring"
The king’s voice.
The instant he spoke, the prince froze. His armored frame stood stiff, lifeless—as though strings had been cut.
My chest heaved. My blade trembled in my grip. This was my chance to strike. To finish him.
But something was wrong.
A crimson glow seeped through the cracks of the prince’s armor. The broken chestplate I had damaged earlier leaked red mist, hissing like boiling blood. The aura spread, thick and oppressive. The air itself felt heavy enough to crush my lungs.
Bad-ump. Bad-ump.
My heart pounded like a war drum. Fear clawed its way up my spine.
I had struggled just to hold my ground against him before. Now? With that aura? There was no chance.
Or so I thought.
Because I wasn’t the only one changing.
I closed my eyes and pulled every shred of strength I had left into my core. I forced it into my sword, funneling my will, my rage, my desperate need to survive.
The blade darkened. Blackness bled across the steel until it gleamed like polished obsidian. So dark it shone.
My breath hitched. My grip tightened.
When I opened my eyes, the prince was already walking toward me—his red aura blazing brighter with every step. He moved like death incarnate, confidence radiating from him.
Bad-ump. Bad-ump.
He raised his sword high above his head, the tip pointing to the heavens. My legs locked. My body trembled. I couldn’t move.
Then—
The strike fell.
Faster than anything I had ever seen. A flash of steel, a streak of crimson, his blade aimed to split me in half.
“No!!” I screamed, raising my own sword, eyes squeezed shut.
“CLANK!”
The sound tore through the barrier. But something was different.
The impact wasn’t heavy. My arms didn’t shatter under the force.
I opened my eyes.
The prince’s sword… was broken.
Split cleanly in two.
I stared in disbelief, then at my own weapon. My black blade pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
This sword… it’s stronger than his.
Before I could even process it, the blade in my hands moved on its own.
SLASH.
A single motion carved the air, a perfect “Z” traced through the space between us.
For a moment, I felt nothing. No resistance. No impact. Just emptiness.
Then the prince’s body fell apart.
Upper body, midsection, legs—each severed, crumbling separately to the ground. His armor split cleanly, his body sliced like paper.
KAAKAAM!!
The sound of steel crashing echoed as the pieces scattered.
I stood frozen, my sword humming softly in my grip.
“…!!??”
The memory hit me. The eagle. The fight where my sword had first turned black. I had cleaved through its wings as if they were nothing.
“This… is the black sword’s power.”
But there was no victory in my chest. Only emptiness. This fight wasn’t supposed to end like this. I had wanted to win through strength, through skill, through endurance. Instead, it felt stolen—the king’s interference had forced it.
I turned to the barrier, my glare locking on the King of the Undead. He sat as he always had, his chin resting against one hand, staring directly into me.
“Come out here!!” I roared, punching the barrier with bloodied fists.
No movement. No reaction. Just his hollow glare.
Then the world shifted.
The throne faded. The king vanished. The darkness outside the barrier dissolved into blinding light.
“Come back here!!!” I screamed, my voice cracking.
But he was gone.
The barrier fell. The forest returned to its original form. The graveyard stretched across five hundred meters of cursed land, silent and unmoving.
No skeletons emerged. No enemies waited.
Only silence.
“Mnn!!”
The sound came from behind me.
Duddul.
He approached slowly, his crimson body gleaming faintly in the pale light. By then, the blood had dried across my body. My skin was red with it, as if I’d been painted in war.
My legs gave way.
He knelt before me, and I collapsed onto him, my chest pressing against his saddle. My body was drained, empty.
Two heavy bags materialized before me, thudding against the ground. Coin pouches. Spoils of war.
The weight wasn’t what I expected. Not heavy at all. Too light for what they contained. A Dauka bag, maybe. One that stored its contents elsewhere. That was the only explanation.
I reached out weakly and grabbed them, clutching my rewards.
Duddul rose, carrying me from the cursed forest. Past the graves. Past the barrier. Out into the night.
The sky was black, the clouds heavy. Rain poured down as we climbed the mountain, cold droplets mixing with the blood on my skin.
By the time we reached my room, I was barely conscious. I stripped bare and stepped into the rain, buckets left out to collect water. The downpour washed me clean, my body gleaming raw but unscarred. Not a single mark remained.
I ate a little, enough to fill the hollow pit inside me. Then collapsed onto my bed.
The skeletons this time had been stronger than anything I’d faced before. Stronger than the scorpion. Stronger than the eagle. Stronger than me.
But tomorrow…
Tomorrow I would face even greater monsters.
The Winged Freezer. The Undead King.
I’ll definitely find out.