Derek and his one hundred and fifty men moved like spectres across the ruined landscape of the Outer-Shelter.

Because they had changed their routes to bypass the oncoming horde, they did not encounter any beasts.

The sound of the clash from the city had long faded into the distance, but Derek could still tell the battle was still going on, from the soaring number of System Points and EXP.

" Even with the equipment I provided, they won't be able to last for long.

" Derek, I sense a powerful mana fluctuation in the distance, " Yvalna said, pointing east.

" Hmm...That should be where the dungeon bo..I mean the S-rank beast, it should be there "

Derek could also sense dark blue particles.

" Squad, let's hurry up the lives of our brothers, sisters, daughters, and mothers depend on us, we have no choice but to fight !! "

A surge of conviction rippled through the elite strike team as Derek's words cut through the air like a drawn blade.

They didn't cheer. There were no triumphant war cries or raised weapons. These weren't soldiers marching into a glorious battle—they were ghosts preparing to haunt a nightmare.

They adjusted their grips on spears, guns, and blades, their eyes hardening with quiet understanding. They knew the stakes. Every one of them had someone to protect, someone to remember, or someone to avenge. Some bore the burden of all three.

Derek, sensing the silent resolve, nodded his head.

" We move "

They advanced quickly but quietly, weaving through debris and skeletons of forgotten buildings until they arrived at the site pulsing with mana—a collapsed apartment block, half-eaten by rot and overgrowth.

Its once-grey concrete walls were now strangled by grotesque crimson veins, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat. The red tendrils had burst through windows, slithered up broken rebar, and plunged into the ground as if feeding off the very earth.

" This is definitely something straight outta of a horror movie " one of the recruits muttered. The others nodded in silent agreement, their faces filled with tension.

The mana was thick here, almost touchable. However, the air was eerie, and the metallic tang of blood filled their nostrils.

It made their breaths heavier and their vision blurrier.

"This is it," Yvalna said, her voice unusually tense.

"The centre of the convergence. Something's alive in there."

Derek stared at the structure. What remained of the building leaned precariously like it knew it shouldn't be standing. The veins grew denser toward the base, slithering down into the ruins and vanishing into the gaping entrance of the underground parking lot.

"I don't like this," Maya muttered, half-drawing her blade.

"You're not supposed to," Derek said. "All units hold position. Set up a perimeter, seal off every entryway, and reinforce your mana shields. If we don't come back in thirty, retreat and help the other squad. That's an order."

A few of them shifted uncomfortably, but no one argued.

He turned to Yvalna, who gave a sharp nod. She was already forming a protective wind glyph across her arm, light blue lines spinning like clockwork gears.

Together, they descended.

The stairs into the underground lot had long since collapsed, so they slipped through a broken ventilation shaft that smelled of mould, rust, and something far worse.

Inside, the veins were everywhere. They clung to the ceiling like diseased roots, pulsed through the cracked pillars, and bled softly onto the floor. Some of them twitched as Derek passed.

The entire parking lot had become something else.

And in the middle of it all, like the beating heart of a monster, was a stone coffin.

Roughly three meters long, carved from black obsidian rock and covered in faint glowing red runes, the coffin sat upon a shallow, circular platform of flesh-veins. All the tendrils converged into it, disappearing beneath or curling around its base like they worshipped it.

"Yvalna…" Derek's voice was low. "What is this thing?"

" I don't know...what it is..." Yvalna said with locked jaws and a fiery gaze in her eyes. Derek looked at her in confusion.

" But I know those runes..the Blood Exchange Runes of the Blood God Church," she added in a cold voice. Derek could tell that his summoned assistant had some history with this church.

Anyway, he would not probe her for information if she did not want to tell him

" I see, should I be worried ?"

' Yes...Those runes you see are connected to these vines. What they do is absorb blood essence and feed it to the coffin, that is why they create so much massacre in the first place...in the world you summoned me from, they were the tumour of the world"

" So we don't just have monsters to deal with, but a Vampire from an otherworldly religion?

" Trust me on this one, Derek, the Blood God Church is worse than monsters, ever seen a skin kite?"

Derek blinked. "A what now?"

"A skin kite," Yvalna said without missing a beat. "It's exactly what it sounds like. Stitched together from the flayed hides of sacrificed victims. Animated with blood curses and flown like banners in war. They scream in the voices of the people they used to be."

Derek stared at her for a moment, then muttered,

" That's messed up "

" Hmm..Our reputation does precede us " A low chuckle resounded in the parking lot.

Derek would have turned around to look for the source of the voice, had the lid of the coffin not trembled with a heavy sound.

The coffin lid groaned open, slamming against the concrete with a shockwave of dust. Derek and Yvalna's vision were hindered by the dust.

The dust coiled in the air like smoke from a cursed forge, thick and choking. Yvalna immediately raised a mana barrier, the swirling wind forming a dome around them, keeping the worst of it out. But even within the shield, Derek could feel it—the oppressive weight of ancient malice pushing down on their lungs, pressing against their very bones.

A single pale hand reached out from within the coffin. Its fingers were long, almost elegant, but wrong in every way. The nails were blackened like charred bone, and the skin shimmered faintly with a bluish hue, translucent enough to show pulsing veins beneath.

Then, the rest of the figure rose.

Yes, Rose. Like something regal yet horrifying was returning to claim its throne.

The figure stood nearly seven feet tall, garbed in tattered ceremonial robes that looked stitched from the shadows of a cathedral. The fabric moved independently, fluttering despite the stillness of the air, like it resented being touched by the world.

And its face—

Wasn't whole.

Half-beautiful, half-decayed. One eye glowed a deep crimson, while the other socket was a pit of void, dripping black tears. Fangs—not just sharp teeth, but curved, bone-colored sabres—protruded from a lipless mouth.

"I am…" the creature spoke, voice smooth yet hollow, like silk dragged across a coffin lid, "Vel'taroth… Apostle of the Blood God."

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