WorldCrafter - Building My Underground Kingdom-Chapter 59: A Trap?

All the Krell scouts were equipped with bows, while the soldiers carried halberds and spears. Ben formed two squads—one to follow him, the other to explore in the direction the ravager had fled.

He needed to know where their lair was. Once he had that information, he’d prepare for a raid. This scouting mission wasn’t for combat. Their goal was simple—gather intel, confirm locations, avoid unnecessary fights.

With that settled, he turned toward the strange plant, moving cautiously. Two scouts were sent ahead, keeping a safe distance to check for potential ambushes. The other two stayed by his side, bows in hand, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

As he advanced, something unusual caught his eye. Amidst the fungal overgrowth, a small hut stood in ruins—its remains barely holding together, half-buried in the damp earth. The wood had long since rotted away, leaving behind only splintered beams, cracked stone, and the faint outline of what might’ve once been a doorway. Ben frowned. ’This place has been here for a long time… at least a hundred years, maybe more.’

But something else caught his attention—something even stranger. The material. Wood. His brows furrowed. There was no wood in this biome. Everything around him was fungal—mushroom stalks, spongy ground cover, bioluminescent growths. But actual wood? Down here, deep underground? He wasn’t an expert, but even he knew trees needed sunlight. There was no way something like this should exist naturally in a place like this.

Then again… this is a world of magic. Who knew what was possible?

Curious, he pulled out his pickaxe, BAM!!! ]

[Ding! You get 1 Emberthorn Cypress Block!]

***

Emberthorn Cypress x1

Type: Wood

Use: Crafting material, alchemy, enchantment

Understanding: 0.001%

Max Stack: 999

Rarity: Rare

A sturdy, fire-hardened wood harvested from the Emberthorn Cypress. Its bark smolders faintly with lingering embers, resistant to flames yet warm to the touch. Highly sought after for crafting fireproof structures, enchanted staves, and weapons capable of withstanding extreme heat. Its core holds residual fire mana, making it a favored material for forging flame-based enchantments.

***

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’A wood with fire resistant? No wonder it can surive this schoring heat here. But still thsi mean it’s from the surface???’ Ben raised his eyeberow. This implicate that someone from surface come thsi deep to explolre or other reason than create this hut heere.

Moving carefully, he stepped over the rubble, scanning the ruins for more infromation. His gaze landed on a half-torn piece of parchment wedged between the broken furniture. Ben crouched, carefully pulling it free. The paper was brittle, edges frayed with age, but some writing still remained. He narrowed his eyes.

’The letters… they look familiar… just like the ones on the ruins.’ Ben narrowed his eyes, comparing the symbols in his mind. Some matched—partially, at least. But not a single one was an exact copy. ’Tch. So it’s not the same language, but close. That means whoever built this place is almost definitely connected to those ruins.’ Shaking his head, he focused back on the task. He needed more clues.

He ordered the Krell soldiers to clear the rubble, making sure nothing was left unturned. Together, they worked through the debris, lifting broken beams, shifting dirt, and tossing aside crumbling fragments of the hut.

But in the end, it was disappointing. Even after digging through everything, he found nothing new. No hidden compartments, no useful artifacts—just the remains of simple wooden furniture, all made from the same material. Emberthorn Cypress.

A cracked spoon, shattered plates, the remains of a desk, a broken table. Nothing of importance. Ben sighed. "So much for—" A loud snap echoed as his foot crushed something beneath the debris.

He froze. It was a small, carved object—something he had mistaken for decoration. But the moment it shattered, the air around him shifted.

A wave of cold, unnatural energy pulsed outward. The ground beneath his feet groaned and cracked, thin fractures racing out from the broken object.

Then—a skeletal hand burst from the dirt. Ben’s instincts screamed at him as more and more bone-white hands clawed their way out. Within seconds, over thirty skeletons surrounded them, armor clanking as they rose from their graves. Each one was armed—swords, spears, even rusted shields. This wasn’t just random undead. It was some kind of spell.

’That object… It was a trap.’ Ben gritted his teeth, gripping the hammer as the skeletons closed in. Their hollow eye sockets burned with blue flames, weapons raised as they advanced in unison. "Krell! Wipe them out!"

The Krell Soldiers charged, crashing into the skeletal horde like a living tide. Bone met chitin, the sickening crunch of shattered skulls echoing as the Krell ripped through the first wave with raw strength.

One Krell Soldier caught a skeleton mid-swing, four arms moving in coordination. Two grabbed its rusted sword, stopping the attack cold, while the other two crushed its ribcage with an explosive force—bone shards flying as the skeleton collapsed into dust.

Another Krell ducked under a spear thrust, its jaw snapping shut around the attacker’s skull. With a sickening crack, the skeleton’s head shattered, its body crumbling as the Krell threw it aside like trash.

Ben didn’t sit back. He dashed forward, hammer swinging in arc—BOOM!

A skeleton exploded into dust on impact, its armor caving like paper. Another come from the side, sword flashing, but Ben twisted, smashing his hammer into its knee. The joint buckled, and before it could recover, he drove his boot into its skull, crushing it underfoot.

Arrows rained down from above—the Krell Scouts let loose. Their shots weren’t random. Each arrow hit precise weak points—eye sockets, joints. Skeletons toppled like broken puppets, unable to withstand the relentless attack.

One skeleton, clad in heavier armor, swung a massive axe, cleaving straight through a Krell’s carapace. The soldier staggered but didn’t fall—instead, it latched onto the attacker’s arms, holding it in place as another Krell leapt in, claws flashing. A single swipe tore through the skeleton’s spine, severing it cleanly in two.