Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 151: Confronting the Slave Trade Guild.

Standing on the cold ice plain, Thoren remained at the back of the undead Iron Roar Komodo, staring at the long fissure etched across the frozen expanse.

"The Slave Trade Guild hideout is beneath that crack, right?" Thoren asked, seeking confirmation.

He had expected the Slave Trade Guild’s hideout to be nothing extraordinary, but this had gone far beyond his imagination.

In such a terrifyingly cold plain, who in their right mind would establish a base here?

However, when he remembered what he had learned about Fenric, their leader, he found it less surprising.

The three members of the Knight Order nodded.

"This is their hideout. That’s why only a few people know about it," one of them replied.

"Anyone below Level 15 would freeze to death in this kind of cold," another added.

Thoren agreed silently.

This was a deadly place to stand for even a few minutes.

The sharp, frigid wind howled fiercely in his ears, whipping his hair about his face.

He jumped down from the back of the undead Iron Roar Komodo and prepared to walk toward the edge of the fissure when he suddenly felt a faint vibration beneath his boots.

He creased his brow and extended his senses to their limit. "Something or someone is coming," he whispered, his expression turning solemn.

Whoosh! 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Without hesitation, he summoned the undead Royalty Stonewall from his undead space.

The massive undead emerged and stood before Thoren like a predator poised to strike.

The Black Ember Blade gleamed coldly in its hand.

Looking at the powerful undead servant, the three members of the Knight Order could not help but suck in a sharp breath.

Even though they had seen this undead before, every time they faced it, their skin crawled with dread.

"Is the battle going to happen on the surface?" one of them asked, his voice laced with anticipation and excitement.

During the destruction of the Federation hideout, they had only witnessed a fraction of the clash, and their curiosity had not been satisfied.

Now, they wished to see with their own eyes how the Slave Trade Guild would be reduced to nothing.

Unbeknownst to them, their confidence and trust in Thoren had grown to such an extent that they no longer believed he could lose to the Slave Trade Guild.

Subconsciously, Thoren had become an undefeatable existence in their hearts.

Thoren, however, remained focused on the fissure. He waited patiently for whatever was approaching to reveal itself.

A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps echoed upward. The footsteps did not belong to a single person, but to many.

The atmosphere on the frozen plain shifted as heavy tension settled over the area.

Under that oppressive tension, even the biting wind seemed to lose its sting. Everyone concentrated on the steady rhythm of the approaching footsteps.

From the fissure, a figure stepped out. He held a long staff, and his face bore an expression of confidence and pride.

His dark, purplish eyes locked onto Thoren for a moment before shifting to the undead servants and finally settling on the undead Iron Roar Komodo and the three members of the Knight Order.

Fenric.

The corner of his lips curled upward in disdain.

Without the slightest hint of fear, he walked forward, his boots echoing lightly against the frozen ground.

Behind him, his followers emerged one after another. When they saw Thoren, his undead, and the three Knight Order members, they were briefly shocked before their expressions twisted into contempt.

To them, nothing could stand in their way anymore.

Thoren observed them calmly, his expression unchanged. He could clearly see the disdain emanating from their leader down to the weakest awakeners among them.

But what truly caught his attention was the strange sensation he felt from Fenric. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced from another awakener.

Even when confronting an ancient god or the beast god’s envoy, he had never felt something like this.

He struggled to comprehend the sensation.

It was as though Fenric did not exist within the same framework of reality.

As though he did not belong here.

As though he were an anomaly, something misplaced in this world.

Even though Thoren could not fully grasp the strange feeling radiating from Fenric, his heart remained calm.

Everything will end today.

For a long moment, neither side spoke.

"I thought I wouldn’t find a worthy opponent to test my strength," Fenric began, breaking the silence.

"But now, it seems the abyss is working in my favor."

Bang!

He kicked off the ground and vanished from his spot. His speed was so astonishing that no one saw how he moved except Thoren.

Thoren’s eyes narrowed as he reacted instantly.

"Kill," he commanded mentally.

Before Fenric could close the short distance between them, the undead Royalty Stonewall intercepted him halfway.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The two figures clashed in a deadly exchange.

Ice shards flew into the air as cracks spiderwebbed across the frozen plain. Fenric and the undead exchanged hundreds of blows within mere seconds.

Each collision produced a thunderous shockwave that reverberated across the icy landscape.

The Black Ember Blade carved arcs of dark flame through the air, meeting the whistling sweep of Fenric’s staff. Sparks and fragments of ice erupted with every impact.

Bang!

A terrifying palm strike slammed into the chest of the undead Royalty Stonewall, forcing it to skid backward across the ice, carving a deep trench behind it.

Fenric did not press the attack. Instead, he stepped back lightly and began chanting a mysterious incantation.

A strange fluctuation rippled through the air.

In an instant, Thoren felt a foreign force invading the body of the undead Royalty Stonewall, an intrusive will attempting to seize control of it.

His eyes flickered with surprise. This was the first time anyone had tried to hijack his undead servant.

And they were attempting it right in front of him.

The invading force slithered like an invisible serpent, probing for weaknesses in his connection to the undead.

The Royalty Stonewall’s movements grew momentarily sluggish, as though unseen chains were wrapping around its limbs.