Morning had arrived, marking the first full day that Hazard had spent in this world. So far, three more Hellhounds had entered—first one, then two at the same time, which had resulted in the deaths of both Undead Swordsmen. However, the rewards of these battles were unquestionably worth it.
As dawn broke, Hazard realized that the Demon Kings might also sleep at night, leading to fewer spam messages. With this in mind, he entered the chat to gather useful information. However, what truly shocked him was the number of online users: 870,432. Nearly 130,000 Demon Kings had perished. The sheer magnitude of this loss unsettled him, but his undead nature quickly quelled any fear. Now, his drive for survival pushed him to grow stronger and ensure his own safety.
The chat was bustling with discussions, and the most critical topic was the Heroes. These were beings whose souls had been summoned into this world, taking control of various creatures. Most heroes possessed weak bodies, but a few had acquired powerful vessels. All of them had been discovered while confronting Demon Kings. According to the shared information, heroes had an uncanny ability to locate Demon Kings and an unwavering determination to battle them.
The Demon Kings had now split into two factions:
Those who had defeated heroes, absorbing their souls and enhancing their abilities.Those who had lost their shrines and were now little more than intelligent beasts.
A third group also existed—the 130,000 who had already perished at the hands of powerful heroes.
Hazard's gaze grew heavier. The previous Hellhound attack had revealed a crucial truth: the number of these creatures was only going to increase.
He glanced at his gold coins—284 in total. A decent sum. The summoning would now begin.
About twenty kilometers from Hazard's shrine, underground tunnels stretched deep into the earth. Inside them, Hellhounds roamed, dragging their prey—mostly humans—into the caverns. Among them moved a creature that walked upright with ease—a werewolf clad in black leather armor, meticulously documenting the Hellhounds' activities.
Observing their numbers, the werewolf's pupils narrowed. Hellhounds were the dominant hunters within a hundred kilometers—not because of sheer numbers, but because of their quality. The 256 Hellhounds in this den were rare and slow to reproduce. Every morning, all of them would return to their lairs. If any were missing, there was only one explanation: death.
This signified the emergence of a stronger predator in the Forbidden Mountain Range, and it deeply troubled the werewolf, prompting a Rank 1 Lord-class combat unit to mobilize.
Meanwhile, Hazard felt a sense of relief as he inspected the fortifications at the valley's entrance. After summoning eight more archers and the remaining Undead foot soldiers, he was left with four gold coins. His army now consisted of ten demonic Undead warriors and ten demonic archers.
Checking the chat again, he discovered that most people had already encountered Heroes, and new information had surfaced.
Power rankings were categorized as: Common, Elite, Lord, Overlord, Warlord, and Mythic. Each tier was further divided into four or six sub-ranks—except Mythic, whose subdivisions remained unknown.
Reviewing this system, Hazard realized how unlucky he had been. From the very start, he had been attacked by Elite Rank 2 enemies. However, the rewards had been worthwhile, so he had no complaints.
His gaze fell upon the three Hellhounds impaled with arrows. One had managed to get close to an archer, breaking the undead's arm before being restrained. The other archers had swiftly finished it off, but the injured one perished in the process. The battle was swift, and another day passed.
By morning, thirty Hellhound corpses lay by the shrine, and Hazard's Undead army had significantly grown. Of the new recruits, twenty-six were from the previous day alone—a clear indicator of the increasing intensity of future attacks.
In total, he had amassed 2,340 gold coins. The newly appearing Hellhounds were visibly stronger and occasionally dropped slightly more gold. Learning from his past losses, he no longer intended to waste units. Instead, he summoned archers and positioned himself at the wooden and earthen fortress, acting as a tank.
During one particularly intense assault by five simultaneous Hellhounds, Hazard had to personally engage, using his wooden shield to counter the only one that had evaded the rain of arrows. It was struck down in the second volley.
Now, his archer army had grown to 80, alongside 46 standard Undead soldiers, who handled repairs, corpse retrieval, and defense on the walls with wooden shields.
This morning, Hazard felt secure. His army had expanded considerably. When he spotted six Hellhounds from the Abyss, he felt like gold was raining from the sky.
The reason Hellhounds kept increasing in number was simple—their missing kin were never returning. If this pattern continued, their numbers would soon either multiply drastically or stop altogether.
Hazard understood this behavior well, which is why he planned to use this flood of gold to summon Undead Swordsmen.
As the battle commenced, the six Hellhounds charged in a frenzied rage. But Hazard wasn't idle. To prevent them from fleeing, he impaled one Hellhound on a tall wooden spike behind the fortress. The stake had entered through the lower body and exited through the mouth.
Hazard found the scene unsettling, but he could only imagine what it meant for the other Hellhounds.
After the battle, Hazard returned to the shrine and summoned 36 Undead Hellblade Swordsmen. But then—a commotion erupted from the fortress, 300 meters away.
Without hesitation, Hazard ordered the swordsmen to follow him and rushed toward the site.
Arriving within forty seconds, he was met with an unpleasant sight.
Nearly 30 archers had been annihilated, along with 18 standard Undead.
And the culprit was still present.
A three-meter-tall, pitch-black figure stood in black leather armor, its long, razor-sharp claws gleaming. Hazard instinctively shuddered.
[Zhigu, the Black Werewolf – Rank 1 Lord]
Zhigu's stats were nearly double those of a Hellhound, and its agility allowed it to dodge many arrows.
The sight of his fallen troops banished Hazard's fear, replacing it with pure rage. He quickly grabbed a bow, nocked an arrow, and took aim.
Unlike skeletal archers—who only fired at stationary targets—Hazard could predict his enemy's movements.
As the werewolf killed another archer and lunged at the next, Hazard released his shot.
His body, now far from human, had grown six times stronger and more precise. The arrow pierced Zhigu's back, drawing a deafening howl.
But Hazard recognized the sound. This was not pain—it was a call.
He quickly drew another arrow, but this time, Zhigu didn't repeat its mistake.
Grabbing a wooden shield, it charged at Hazard.
Now, it was a battle of skill.
Hazard's weapons?Two rusted iron swords—the remains of fallen Undead Swordsmen.
Zhigu's first claw strike sent Hazard flying even though he blocked it. After tumbling across the ground, he checked his system. Half his HP was gone.
Meanwhile, Zhigu still had 140 out of 200 HP.
The difference in strength was overwhelming.
Just as the werewolf prepared to lunge, ten arrows struck it, slowing its movement.
Not all the archers were dead.
With renewed determination, Hazard retreated toward the shrine, feeling the tremors of approaching reinforcements.
Zhigu tried to block the arrows with wooden shields, but it was already wounded.
Then—36 Undead Swordsmen swarmed him like a tidal wave, ripping him apart.
[You have slain Zhigu, the Black Werewolf – Rank 1 Lord. Reward: 9,000 gold coins.]
Hazard's mouth hung open.
This wasn't just gold—this was a dream come true.
And now, he was certain.
He could survive the next assault.