My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible Chapter 482 Strange Undead Creature

As Liam One ventured further into the Eldwood Forest, he pondered the significance of the recent clash, with his heightened senses vigilantly scanning the environment for any new dangers.

The absence of dragons in this area proved frustrating yet not disastrous. The woodland stretched endlessly—spanning hundreds of kilometers in all directions, based on his observations from the aerial approach to its boundary.

Should Rikilda and Bethan not be present here, they must dwell elsewhere, and he possessed ample time along with means to perform an exhaustive hunt across various territories.

The clash with the minotaurs had offered its own lessons. He now grasped that his human presence alone in monster lands would provoke instant aggression, implying that upcoming meetings demanded either greater caution or the realization that combat would serve as the standard welcome.

Given the forest's immense size, aimless wandering proved wasteful. He might roam for weeks without stumbling upon anything noteworthy, squandering moments better used if he obtained firmer details on dragon habitats within this realm.

Maybe it was time to revise his approach to the hunt. Rather than trekking through untamed lands in hopes of chancing upon his quarry, he could pursue villages or beings that held insights into the true abodes of dragons.

Liam One mulled over these modifications when an odd sight caught his eye up ahead.

A cavern opening, shrouded by dangling vines and thick foliage, yawned into the slope like a shadowy maw. Yet it wasn't the cavern that seized his focus. Instead, a subtle glow of arcane power seeping from the threshold grabbed his notice.

He swiftly recognized its nature. It was a dungeon.

And Liam One, for all his immense strength and tactical goals, remained at heart a thrill-seeker in battle. The idea of delving into a dungeon, confronting its trials solely for the thrill of fighting and uncovering secrets, stirred a primal urge within him.

The quest for Rikilda and Bethan could pause for a short while. He refused to ignore this chance.

Approaching the cavern's mouth, Liam One brushed away the vines and entered the gloom.

Inside, the air felt chilly and moist, infused with the earthy scent of buried stone. Glowing moss offered dim light, sufficient for visibility yet leaving shadows to linger in nooks and fissures. The tunnel sloped downward mildly, plunging further into the hill, and his acute hearing picked up echoes from beyond—scraping sounds, stirrings, the telltale racket of beings thriving in tight quarters.

After only about ten strides within the dungeon, the initial resident emerged.

The beast burst from a lateral corridor with alarming velocity—tall and emaciated, its ashen skin taut over bony contours. Angular ears protruded from its head at strange tilts, and as it parted its jaws to emit a shriek, Liam One glimpsed teeth crafted for shredding meat.

Its gaze featured solid white orbs, devoid of pupils, mirroring the moss's soft radiance with a chilling sheen. Elongated talons sprouted from digits that appeared to boast excess joints, and its build distorted in manners that rendered direct observation uneasy.

Liam One scowled. In his experiences across the magic universe, he'd faced numerous beasts, but none resembled this. It seemed as if a human shape had been warped, its innate form corrupted into an entity designed purely to evoke unease and revulsion.

The beast let out a piercing cry—a shrill noise that clawed at his hearing like talons on slate—and propelled itself ahead with velocity that would overpower an ordinary person.

Liam One saw no need to unsheathe a blade or summon an elaborate ability. With a nonchalant sweep of his arm, he conjured a edge of condensed Primordial Essence mid-air, slicing through the beast's midsection with flawless accuracy.

The entity crumpled during its rush, inertia propelling it onward even as its form split into twin segments that skidded over the rocky ground.

Liam One observed its downfall, assuming the fight concluded there.

Then the entity's tissue started to twitch. The severed parts strained toward one another, flesh rejoining, skeleton readjusting, hide mending in a macabre display. In mere five seconds or so, the beast rose once more, fully restored, as if the severing had never happened.

Liam One's scowl intensified. While self-repair occurred among mystical beings, this rapidity hinted at beyond ordinary restoration. The entity's body had essentially reassembled itself, flouting typical life mechanisms.

The beast shrieked anew and surged forward, seemingly untaught by its prior defeat.

On this occasion, Liam One held back nothing. He materialized right before the advancing foe, his speed beyond its perception, and his arm thrust out with exactness.

His grip seized its cranium, and in one fluid action, he wrenched the head entirely from the neck amid a sodden tear that resounded along the corridor.

His free hand plunged into the entity's torso, emerging rearward amid shards of bone and gore adhering to his fist. His digits located the target and yanked it out.

The decapitated, coreless form toppled rearward, slamming onto the stone with a fleshy impact. The severed head bounced aside, halting near the wall, its pale eyes somehow preserving their ghostly gleam though detached from all.

Liam One retreated from the remains, clutching the removed heart in his grasp, examining it closely.

The vital organ felt utterly frigid, its matter dull gray and devoid of life. This heart hadn't pulsed—possibly not for ages—prompting instant queries about how such a being could operate sans a functional blood-pumping mechanism.

He rotated the heart within his palm, his amplified perceptions dissecting its makeup, probing for hints on the slain entity's identity.

The clearest conclusion pointed to undead. Yet "undead" covered a wide array, from shambling corpses to cunning sorcerers of death, and this example didn't align with any particular undead varieties he'd met or studied.

The self-repair implied greater durability than a simple reanimated husk. The swiftness and ferocity pointed to hunting instincts over aimless shambling. The bodily traits—wan skin, stretched limbs, fangs, talons—hinted at evolution for nocturnal predation.

A type of bloodsucker, maybe? Or a flesh-eater? Something wholly different?

Liam One weighed these options when a multitude of shrill cries reached him, reverberating from the dungeon's depths. Scores of them, all crying out together in a symphony of dread.

And under the cries, the patter of nearing steps. Numerous, numerous steps, advancing with unified intent.

Liam One grinned, the look infused with true eagerness. The icy heart lingered in his hand, yet his focus had pivoted to the oncoming threat.

The shrieks intensified and the steps quickened. And Liam One positioned himself amid the dungeon's corridor, utterly at ease, poised for the swarm's arrival to reveal the full might of these peculiar undead when they struck as one.