CHAPTER 868: CHAPTER 598: WHAT DID YOU EAT TO GROW THIS BIG?

Why the Old Nobility could wield Transcendent Power without being affected by the Curse, Soc couldn’t answer.

"Perhaps Red Furnace Castle can answer your question."

Soc urgently needed the support of power; he only wanted to rush back and save the old knight, Rad.

"I need a squad." Lind spoke, and a golden [!] symbol appeared above his head.

A squad of 30 Undead would suffice to meet Soc’s needs.

Soc, who had seen his father reorganize the army before, was shocked. This group of warriors was extremely chaotic, without any discipline, but their action speed was very fast.

And during their actions, they were still shouting "30=5" and "30 equals 1", then those who appeared to have no communication quickly stood together, forming a squad of 30.

From the moment Lind spoke to the assembly being completed, it only took a few breaths.

A perfectly organized army, making one’s scalp tingle!

"Follow Soc," Lind instructed, "Help our friend."

"Yes!" The chosen squad of Undead nodded joyfully.

For the new journey, everyone tacitly chose to obey Lind’s orders, not rushing out recklessly.

Because in many previous events, one thing was certain: following Lind would have mainline tasks and the most rewarding returns, while running around on their own only led to pitiful gains.

Soc led the squad running back; he was just a Grim Reaper path Wizard, physically frail, and ran very slowly.

"Lord Soc, shall I carry you?"

"No, no need!"

Soc was somewhat panicked; this group’s strength was all above his.

"You don’t need to call me lord," he particularly emphasized.

In this era, noble identity wasn’t as significant as a strong fist; Soc’s status was just an empty title, and his fists were weak.

"The priority is saving people. We can run faster. Come on, let me carry you."

"Well, alright then."

"Darn, he got the jump on us!" The Undead, seething, looked resentfully at the companion now acting as a temporary mount, their teeth grinding.

Why hadn’t they thought of it?

Carrying the NPC on their back gave a definite advance advantage.

Rushing back in the direction Soc came from, the chaotic traces on the road made Soc’s heart sink deeper and deeper; a bad feeling overflowed from his heart.

They stopped on shattered ground, the surrounding trees cut down by colliding forces.

The piled-up chaotic trees formed a tall semicircular wall.

"It’s Rad’s swordsmanship!"

Soc jumped down from the Undead’s back, his gaze sweeping the surroundings, trying to find a familiar figure.

He didn’t need to give orders; the Undead had already spread out, consciously searching the surroundings for any signs of life.

"There’s a body here, crushed under a tree, looks like a leopard."

Hearing the voice, Soc immediately rushed over.

The praying mantis knife leopard’s body was half-crushed under a tree, its forelimb severed by a sharp blade.

This discovery made Soc immensely happy; Rad might still be alive.

Gazing into the distance, a familiar hunched figure walked towards them. Despite the different gait, Soc recognized who it was at a glance.

"Rad! Thank goodness you’re still alive!" Soc’s voice was joyful; he had never found the incessantly chattering old knight so pleasing as he did now.

Everyone was alive.

There was no better news.

The figure did not respond but staggered forward.

"Lord Soc, that person might not be your friend." The nearby Undead had already drawn their weapons.

Rather than the unclear silhouette, they were more concerned with the bright red name above the figure’s head.

The approaching person was an enemy, not a friend.

Without the Undead’s reminder, Soc also sensed the ominous aura of the newcomer, that unique raging power of the Curse Calamity, until the person came face to face and looked up.

He retreated in horror.

The figure was indeed still wearing the old knight’s armor, holding the familiar sword, but his eye sockets were filled with innumerable eyeballs, like fish roe bursting out, yet mixed with a strong adhesive mucus hanging on the upper part of his face.

Gurgling, gurgling, gurgling, he seemed to hear the dreadful sound, as each eyeball tried to squeeze out, spreading over the old knight’s skin, occupying his forehead, the top of his head, the back of his head... to his ears, mouth, nostrils, and so forth.

The nearby Undead attacked, a Fireball precisely hitting the old knight Rad’s head, bursting all the eyeballs, but in the next moment, more eyeballs drilled out, expanding their coverage.

Despite the continuous attack, the figure never fought back.

"Wait!"

Soc stopped the others from continuing to attack.

"Rad, is it you?"

The last time he asked this question, it was filled with strong hope that the person was Rad.

This time, he strongly hoped it wasn’t.

The Eye Knight did not answer, just came to Soc, staring at him with a face full of eyeballs.

Filled with sorrow.

Soc drew the sword from the nearby Undead, clumsily gripping it with both hands, piercing the Eye Knight’s heart.

The Eye Knight fell, without the supply of life force, the eyeballs quickly shriveled, eventually becoming as dry as grape skins.

Soc also fell to the ground.

A gloomy atmosphere enveloped Soc and the Undead; witnessing life and death firsthand was always more soul-shaking than any other medium. They couldn’t take the body back; the Curse might spread.

Burn it on the spot, then return with the failed mission.

"I hope to serve you."

Soc once again found Lind.