Chapter 161: Running game

As Volk thundered past them, the tremors from his enormous steps echoed in Bong Me-Eon and the middle-aged woman's bones.They exchanged a quick, stunned look, confusion etched into their faces.

His words hung in the air and pang in their heads: "SYSTEM USER, HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!"

The middle-aged woman's sharp gaze narrowed, suspicion flaring.

"System user?" she muttered, her voice filled with a steely edge.

Bong Me-Eon's mind raced, her thoughts darting back to the earlier said that there was a clash between Song Woo-Ji and Volk.

Her memory snapped to the Death Ball, the moment of eerie, unnatural energy that had surged through the battlefield.

Was Song Woo-Ji somehow tied to this mystery?

Did this monster horde leader was responsible of making Song Woo-Ji be in a state of temporary date?

But the questions were quickly buried beneath her instincts.

Whatever was driving Volk, he was charging ahead, deeper into the battlefield, ignoring them.

Bong Me-Eon gritted her teeth, a surge of relief mixing with the sharp edge of their strategy now unfolding—no need to isolate Volk if he was already distracted.

Her master, however, was one step ahead.

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Without a moment's pause, the middle-aged woman had already turned, her keen eyes fixed on Volk's hulking frame, retreating into the smoke.

Determination sparked in her eyes as she began to chant, her words steeped in ancient, dark energy that seemed to seep into the very fabric of the battlefield around them.

"Kraal'a Morbis!"

Her voice carried through the air, the spell woven with the heavy weight of necromancy.

As her words resonated, a jagged crack splintered the ground around her, dark energy swirling from the depths.

From the earth, skeletal hands burst forth—an army of bony, clawed fingers that lunged toward Volk.

The skeletal claws reached up, trying to latch onto his legs, their bones creaking as they stretched.

Volk slowed, gritting his teeth as he stomped down, crushing the bony limbs beneath his feet with a sound like shattering glass.

Yet the woman's spell was relentless.

"Vra'khael Tenevos!"

The second incantation shot through the air like a whip.

From her outstretched hand, shadows condensed into a spear of swirling darkness, sharp as an obsidian blade, and launched toward Volk.

It struck his side, the impact rippling through his armor-like skin and embedding with an eerie, sickening hiss.

A pulse of necrotic energy spread through his flesh, tendrils of darkness clawing at his essence, but he growled, ripping the spear free and tossing it to the side.

His steps only faltered briefly before he pressed forward again, an angry snarl twisting his features.

The woman's expression hardened, her voice deepening as she chanted again.

"Mael'mirga Phanlark!"

At her command, a massive wave of deathly energy rolled forward, thick and fog-like, sweeping across the ground.

The fog carried with it the essence of decay, lapping at Volk's form, its sickly energy grasping at him like thousands of ghostly tendrils.

Volk's steps grew heavier, his vision blurred for a moment as the fog wrapped around his legs and reached up toward his chest, dragging at him, slowing him.

However, with a furious roar, he dispelled the fog, his massive arms tearing through the deathly haze like a storm breaking through clouds.

Unfazed, she continued.

"Mortegha Nagh'mor!"

This time, skeletal hounds, born of shadows and bone, erupted from the ground.

Their hollow eyes glowed with an unearthly green light as they snarled, baring rows of jagged fangs as they circled Volk.

They darted toward him, gnashing at his heels, their bites leaving trails of decay along his skin.

Volk snarled, slamming his fists down on the hounds, each hit causing bones to shatter and scatter across the ground, yet more hounds emerged from the ground, lunging at him in a relentless assault.

Each strike he made scattered their forms, but the relentless onslaught slowed him, momentarily halting his advance.

And finally, her voice crescendoed with a final, powerful spell.

"Drak'vaul Terenos!"

With her words, the very earth trembled, and then, a colossal skeletal dragon—an echo of death itself—rose from the ground behind her.

Its hollow eyes glinted with a sinister glow as it let out a deep, resonant roar that shook the battlefield.

With a single, powerful lunge, the skeletal dragon swept forward, slamming into Volk with a force that rattled the earth.

The impact was tremendous, Volk staggering back under the force of the creature's assault, his fists coming up to defend himself as the dragon's claws raked against his chest and neck.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, it appeared the dragon might drive him back, might force him down.

But Volk, filled with a fury that seemed to radiate from his very core, roared and lashed out with his massive fists, breaking through the dragon's bony form with sheer, brutal power.

Bones shattered, splintering and scattering, and the dragon's form crumbled into dust under his strength.

The attacks had halted him for moments, seconds at best, but they were enough to earn the middle-aged woman and Bong Me-Eon a few precious breaths. seaʀᴄh thё Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

But then Volk turned, his gaze alight with a fiery rage, his eyes zeroing in on them.

His face twisted with fury, a growl rumbling from deep within his chest as he raised a massive fist in their direction.

"YOU DARE DISTRACT VOOOLK?!" he thundered, his voice a deafening roar that seemed to echo across the battlefield, reverberating in their bones.

His stance radiated menace, his muscles tense and coiled as he prepared to charge, his rage igniting his every move.

…

Volk's eyes glinted with a savage light as he cast a disdainful glance at Bong Me-Eon and the middle-aged woman.

His massive hand reached toward them, fingers stretching like talons as his shadow loomed over Bong Me-Eon.

She froze for a split second, feeling the raw heat and menace of his enormous form closing in. But in that same heartbeat, the middle-aged woman's hands were already weaving through the air, her voice a sharp command:

"Drak'tar Vel'thora!"

A wave of spectral chains erupted from the ground, snapping and coiling around Volk's arm like the tendrils of some ghastly creature.

They anchored into his thick skin, clawing at his flesh, and tugged him back, causing him to snarl in frustration.

The chains held just long enough for Bong Me-Eon to snap back to her senses and dart away, narrowly escaping the crushing grasp that would've shattered her bones.

Volk sneered, wrenching his arm free with a mighty heave that scattered the chains like wisps of smoke.

His lip curled into a smirk, with the corner of his mouth twitching with something between amusement and contempt as he muttered, his voice a low rumble:

"WEAKLINGS... VOLK SHOULDN'T WASTE TIME WEAKLINGS… TWO OF THEM WON'T BE A THREAT IN THE FUTURE… UNLIKE SYSTEM USER…"

His gravelly tone faded, as if he couldn't even spare the energy to finish his thought, and his gaze turned, locking onto a distant figure: Song Woo-Ji.

A dark smile twisted across Volk's face as he sized up his next target, his eyes narrowing with the thrill of the hunt.

His massive body tensed, like a coiled spring, and then he burst forward in a ferocious sprint, each stride sending shockwaves through the ground.

Boulders shattered under his weight as he tore across the battlefield, his intent singular, his gaze fixed on Song Woo-Ji.