"Stop right there, you damned monster!" Wrack roared, his battle-axe raised as he charged straight at the stranger standing in the middle of the blood circle. He knew that this enemy was not just a Ranker trying to ascend, as they had initially believed.

The cloaked figure in the center of the blood circle suddenly looked up, a bloodthirsty smile spreading across his gaunt, grayish face. He let out a shrill scream, and the blood circle beneath his feet erupted in a mesmerizing violet flame. A black-gray mist, carrying the wailing screams of countless tormented souls, exploded from the center of the circle, throwing Wrack and his comrades back.

"Ha ha ha! You've arrived at just the right time, you little rats!" Beleth's hoarse, mocking voice echoed from within the black flame. His Rank 5 avatar, which had been hiding and controlling everything from the start, now revealed itself. His evil aura enveloped the entire space of the chapel, making the air thick and stifling.

He felt a heavy pressure, making it almost impossible to breathe. Danz and Halb tried to stand firm, their weapons trembling in their hands. Keln pale from the bloody scene and heavy pressure, still managed to draw his twin swords. Taking a weak stance, his eyes were filled with determination, despite knowing the enemy was too strong and far beyond their abilities.

Around Beleth, countless Undead figures rose from the pools of blood and dark corners of the chapel, as if summoned from hell. These were not the low-level Skeletons or Ghouls that Henry had faced before. They were heavily armored Death Knights, with dark, heavy armor and rusted, bloodstained longswords, radiating a Rank 3 aura, and some had even reached the threshold of Rank 4. Their numbers were increasing, quickly surrounding the investigation team, giving them no chance to retreat.

"Go and have some fun with them, my loyal servants. Show these esteemed guests the 'hospitality' of St. Elms Chapel," Beleth sneered, commanding his Undead army.

Henry knew that this would be a real life-or-death battle, a battle where no miracle could save them now. He tightened his grip on his sword, pushing his Mystic Sense to its limit, trying to find an escape through the Undead's dense encirclement.

The ancient chapel of St. Elms, which once echoed with prayers and was lit by candles shining on sacred frescoes, had now become a bloody arena, a slaughterhouse reeking of death, fresh blood, and dark magic. The roar of the Death Knights, the clash of weapons, and the heavy breathing and grinding teeth of the investigators all blended into a chaotic sound.

Wrack fought like a lion, a whirlwind among hungry wolves. His battle-axe felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. Each strike carried power, shattering the Death Knights' steel armor and blowing them away like puppets of rotten wood. Dust and shattered bone fragments flew from the ancient chapel floor with every attack, creating a chaotic, hazy scene.

"You pathetic insects! How dare you stand in my way?!" he roared, a murderous aura rising from his muscular body, his disheveled hair now sticky with sweat and the enemy's fresh blood. He was not just passively defending; he was actively attacking, trying to break through the enemy's increasingly tight encirclement, looking for a chance to counterattack and open a path for his comrades.

Keln, now also covered in the crimson color of blood, showed no fear or hesitation in the face of this horrifying scene. Even though he was facing enemies who were much stronger and more numerous, the confidence of youth, his courage, and his skillful dual-wielding techniques, honed over many years, helped him fight fiercely.

"Steel Cyclone" he shouted, his two silver swords spinning at a dizzying speed, creating a whirlwind of sharp sword energy that cut off the limbs of the stupid Death Knights who dared to enter his attack range.

Danz and Halb, who had faced countless life-or-death missions together, now formed a solid steel wall, a reliable anchor, covering Keln from behind and supporting Wrack on the front line.

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Danz, with his physical strength and a large black steel shield chipped in many places, used his body to block the Death Knights' storm-like attacks. This created precious openings for Halb to strike at the enemy's vital weak points and armor gaps with his flexible, unpredictable silver spear.

They moved in perfect sync, understanding each other with just a glance or a small movement. Their years of combat experience had forged this almost perfect coordination.

Henry fought in a different way, a pragmatic, effective, and calculated style. He moved precisely through the enemy's dense encirclement, his sword flashing like lightning.

Every strike was clean and accurate, aimed directly at the weak points and fatal gaps of the Undead. His Mystic Sense, pushed to its limit, not only helped him skillfully dodge dangerous attacks from all sides but also helped him "see" the enemy's intentions, attack trajectories, and even their smallest openings beforehand.

He wasn't just fighting for himself; he constantly gave timely warnings and directions to Danz, Halb, and Keln, helping them avoid dangerous blows and counterattack exposed positions. Amidst the clash of weapons, Henry's voice, hoarse but clear, rang out.

"Keln, BEHIND YOU!" Keln immediately spun around, his twin swords deflecting a fatal strike from a shadow that had just appeared.

"Halb, LEFT! He's using his shield as a feint!" Halb was startled, and instead of thrusting forward, he swept his spear sideways, hitting the leg of the Death Knight who was raising his shield.

The sound of a bone breaking rang out dryly. Every warning from Henry saved a life, pushing back death for another moment. Wrack, a Rank 4 warrior, did not need Henry's direct warnings; he dealt with threats effectively on his own..

But Beleth was not someone who would just stand there and watch his minions fight. A smile of pleasure appeared on his pale, gaunt face.

"You are just a bunch of rats struggling in a cage. It seems I have to add a little 'special seasoning' to this magnificent feast," he said.

He waved his hand gently, as if conducting an orchestra. From the thick shadows in the corners of the chapel, where the fresh blood of innocent priests and nuns had soaked into the ancient stone floor, came a more roar, carrying extreme fury and hunger. Several Corpse Golems, made from countless mutilated and sewn-together corpses, slowly emerged from the darkness.

Their bruised, rotten flesh gave off a putrid smell. Their joints cracked with a gruesome sound with every slow, heavy movement. But no one dared to underestimate their strength and almost-undefeatable resilience. They were like a miniature version of the Undead Host.

"What is that thing?!" Keln's face turned pale with fear as a Corpse Golem swung its deformed arm, an arm made of dozens of rotten, intertwined human arms, down at the spot where he had just barely dodged. The ancient stone floor of the chapel shattered into pieces, and dust flew everywhere, blocking their vision.

Wrack charged straight at the nearest Corpse Golem that was threatening Keln's life. "Earth Cleave!" His battle-axe struck down with a great force, cutting off the monster's rotten arm. But immediately, other arms from its deformed body reached out to attack Wrack, forcing him to struggle to defend himself.

The situation was becoming dangerous. The Undead were still numerous and attacking nonstop, and now large, resilient Corpse Golems had appeared. The investigation team, despite fighting with all their courage and experience, was beginning to be overwhelmed.

After barely escaping the Corpse Golem's first attack, Keln hadn't had time to steady himself when a Rank 4 Death Knight suddenly charged at him. It was a commander who had wisely hidden among the lower-level Undead until now, and it lunged from a blind spot with blinding speed. Its rusted longsword thrust straight into Keln's chest, easily piercing through the young investigator's thin leather armor.

"AAAAAAAA!" Keln screamed in extreme pain, fresh blood gushing from the corner of his mouth and from the fatal wound in his chest. His twin swords fell with a clang onto the ancient stone floor. Keln's eyes, which had always burned with youthful passion, now faded, leaving only a blank, lifeless look. He fell, surrounded by his enemies, his fresh blood staining a large area of the floor.

"KELN!!!" Henry roared. He tried to rush to his young comrade's aid. But the distance between them was too far, and the Death Knights around them were like a steel wall, giving him no chance to get through. And then, a sight even more cruel and haunting happened right before the eyes of the others.

Instead of lying still, Keln's body began to convulse. The wound on his chest was no longer bleeding, but foaming, and a stream of thick, black, foul-smelling smoke rose from it. "What... what is that?" Halb stammered, taking a step back. Keln's eyes snapped open, but they were no longer the blue of life, but a murky, empty red.

He slowly stood up, his joints cracking with a gruesome sound, his broken neck at a strange, deformed angle.

Keln, their brave, young comrade, who had just been fighting alongside them a few minutes ago, had been turned into an Undead, a soulless puppet under the control of the Necrofear Beleth.

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