CHAPTER 120: CHAPTER NO.120 GHOUL KING

[Location: Dungeon—Vampire King’s Castle]

But no matter what, the tide seemed endless, like a bottomless pit vomiting horrors without pause.

According to Astra, the estimate is over twenty thousand.

And rising.

But the thing that bothers me the most is—

’They are not even offering EXP or Souls!’

I hissed under my breath.

Of course they weren’t. Because why would this cursed dungeon give me anything for once? No, instead it had to throw twenty thousand EXP-less, soulless, drooling undead liabilities at me like I was being punished for something.

"Tch—annoying."

"Bob!"

But I, being the thick-skinned dumbass that I apparently was becoming under constant stress, pointed at the [Shadow Infantryman], the vibrator incarnate.

So yeah, I chose to name him Bob on the spot.

"Yes. You little gremlin. Bob."

Bob froze.

Absolutely froze.

The vibrating little shadow—who had shaken through five days of slaughter, three collapsed marble corridors, two broken pillars, and one near-detonation—stopped.

Completely.

Astra blinked.

Draugr paused mid-spine-rip.

Even Paimon turned his helm slightly, as if the universe itself had just hiccuped.

Bob slowly—slowly—lifted his head toward me.

Then—

BWOOOOOOOOOOO—

He vibrated so violently that the cathedral floor cracked.

"...oh god, what have I done?" I muttered.

Astra caught him by the neck like a mother grabbing an overstimulated toddler before he launched himself into orbit. "My king," she said softly, "perhaps naming him... was unwise."

"Too late now," I grumbled. "Bob, it is."

Bob saluted, vibrating at a frequency that could probably power a small city.

"...Yeah, yeah, settle down already."

Of course, he did not settle down.

Bob vibrated harder—HARDER—until Astra had to grip him with both hands, shadows curling like restraints.

"My king," she said carefully, "Bob is... undergoing spiritual destabilization."

"You mean he’s excited."

"...Yes."

Fantastic.

I created a monster.

A tiny, shadowy, vibrating monster.

"Alright," I exhaled, focusing back on the twenty thousand—and counting—EXP-less, soulless, utterly worthless ghouls swarming the cathedral. "Let’s deal with this mess. Astra, Draugr, Paimon, Erebus—"

But something changed.

A sound—wrong, ancient, heavy—rolled through the cathedral.

DOON.

Not a tremor.

Not a vibration.

A heartbeat.

The entire marble floor rippled like water.

Crimson mist bled out of the broken stained-glass windows.

And every ghoul froze mid-charge.

Even Astra halted.

"...My king," she whispered, voice tightening, "brace yourself."

The ghouls twisted—joints cracking backwards, torsos bending unnaturally—as if being pulled by invisible strings. Their eyes flared blood-red.

Then—

SHLORP.

They began merging.

Hundreds.

Thousands.

Tens of thousands.

Their bodies fused, dissolved, and reformed into a rising, towering mass of writhing red-black flesh. It rose like a tsunami, pressing against the cathedral ceiling, bones cracking as they rearranged into a humanoid grotesque silhouette.

The writhing mass kept rising—higher, wider—until the cathedral’s black-marble rafters groaned under its expanding bulk.

SHLORP.

CRRRK—CRACK!

A single clawed hand—no, a construct of fused bone shards and hardened crimson mana—slammed down to stabilize itself.

Then a second.

The entire fused monstrosity dragged itself upright like a newborn titan waking up in a coffin too small to hold it.

Astra’s golden eye narrowed. "My king... this is Duke Veyrath’s bloodline ability—Mergence, which allows him to merge organisms with forced—"

She didn’t finish.

Because the thing completed its transformation.

BOOOOOOOM!

The fused abomination straightened its spine—if the twisted pillar of bone and muscle could even be called that. A warped, elongated head snapped into place atop its grotesque frame, jaw unhinging far wider than any natural creature. Rows of jagged, mismatched fangs protruded outward like broken swords hammered together by a sadistic blacksmith.

And then—

The cathedral wall behind it shattered from the sheer force of its presence.

[High-Ranked Ghoul King]

And I could see the giant name, floating in the air in a deep crimson hue.

That thing consisted of a huge mess of fatty flesh that must’ve weighed dozens of tons. No, maybe even several hundred, instead. And then, the massive club this thing was holding in its hand looked rather horrifying as well.

However, a smile was etched on my face.

"Paimon, Draugr, bring this thing down!"

Paimon and Draugr didn’t need to be told twice.

The moment my words left my lips—

FWOOOM—!

The cathedral floor exploded under Paimon’s launching force, the shockwave rippling outward like a divine pulse. His midnight armour gleamed as he shot forward, broadsword tucked back like a meteor preparing to detonate.

Draugr followed, not by sprinting—

—but by hurling himself like a living siege boulder.

The giant shadow-warrior slammed into the floor once, twice—

—each impact sending cracks spiderwebbing across the marble—

—before he launched off the ground with molten fury pulsing under his skin.

The Ghoul King reacted instantly.

RRRAAAAAAAARGHHHH—!!

A roar like grinding stone and collapsing cities shook the entire cathedral. Its club—an abomination made of fused bones—swung downward like a collapsing tower.

Paimon’s broadsword met it first.

CLAAAAAANG—!!

The sound was like a bell forged from black holes.

The impact was so violent that the entire cathedral’s stained windows shattered, raining crimson shards everywhere.

Paimon slid back half a meter—but he held the blow.

Draugr didn’t waste the opening.

"GRAAAAAAAHH!!"

His purple veins surged like molten lightning coursing through stone as he swung his claws, raking across the Ghoul King’s massive torso. Flesh and fused bone shredded like paper, black mist and crimson ichor spraying across the cathedral floor.

The creature stumbled back—massive legs creaking under the unnatural weight—but its eyes glowed even brighter. Not fear. Not pain. Pure malice. The Abomination had been forged for destruction, and it was not about to yield.

Astra stepped forward like a whisper of death, shadows spiralling around her like living silk. With a flick of her wrist, her rose-gold shadow tendrils lanced forward, slicing through a fused limb with surgical precision. The appendage disintegrated into motes of crimson-black energy, only to merge back into the Ghoul King’s body moments later.

"Shit... it adapts," I muttered. Even from the safety of a few dozen meters, I could feel the intelligence behind the monstrosity’s movements. It wasn’t mindless; it was calculating, merging pain, damage, and resistance into a single horrific gestalt.

Erebus moved like a shadow within shadows, his spear flickering between solid and incorporeal states. He pierced the joints of the abomination repeatedly, siphoning the absorbed energy back into himself, each stab drawing a hiss from the creature as if it sensed the void eating away at its core.

"Bob," I said carefully, stepping slightly forward. "Don’t... touch it... yet."

Bob didn’t listen. Of course, he didn’t. He vibrated violently, darting forward with the energy of ten storms, diving into the nearest pile of crushed ghoul remnants. With a soft POP and a ripple, he began assimilating fragments of shadow residue into himself, vibrating even faster as if ecstatic about the chaos.

Paimon grunted, swinging his broadsword again. The impact shattered more fused bone, carving deep trenches across the cathedral floor. Draugr’s claws slammed down in synchronized timing, creating shockwaves that rolled across the hall, each ripple tossing smaller ghouls aside.

Astra’s golden eye narrowed. She flicked her wrist, and the shadows around her formed hundreds of thin, flexible blades, dancing like liquid ribbons. She struck the Ghoul King with pinpoint accuracy, severing newly formed limbs before they could strike, the tendrils curling back into her like obedient serpents.

"Even with all of you," I muttered, swallowing hard, "this thing isn’t just strong... It’s adaptive. It learns from damage."

The cathedral trembled again. Every strike we delivered was absorbed, countered, or partially negated as the abomination’s body morphed in real-time. Flesh became armour; bone became spikes; claws turned into chains.

"Stay focused," Astra murmured, voice calm but tense. "This floor... will not forgive mistakes."

Vael hovered above the ground, hands tracing complex sigils. Violet light pulsed outward in waves, aiming to slow the creature’s adaptation speed. "..." he mutters giblish. But his intent focuses on the flow of merged mana... disrupt the central binding.

I nodded. "Exactly. Erebus, target its core. Astra, Draugr, Paimon—keep it distracted and fractured. Bob... try to absorb whatever residue you can safely manage. Don’t get eaten."

Bob vibrated in response, so violently that a small section of the cathedral floor cracked under him, and he shot forward like a missile. Despite Astra’s restraining hold, he darted into a cloud of residual energy, swallowing fragments of broken limbs and shadow matter into himself. A soft ding

indicated he had gained a minor level from the absorption.

"Good... ish," I muttered. Even with my cheering, I was acutely aware: Bob was completely unstable. One misstep and the little shadow gremlin could obliterate a portion of the floor himself.

The Ghoul King swung its bone club again. Paimon leapt to meet it head-on, colliding with a sound like a collapsing cathedral ceiling. Draugr followed, his claws tearing through reinforced limbs, while Astra’s tendrils shredded any appendages that reformed.

Despite the combined assault, the creature rose again. It was relentless. Its body constantly restructured itself, adapting to every attack.

"Damn it..." I muttered. "This is a full-on test of patience. Floor 50 isn’t just a milestone... It’s a trial."

Erebus’s spear flickered through the creature’s chest cavity. "Its core... exposed momentarily," I noted. "Now!"

In a flash, Muramasa was summoned into my grasp.

"Enough. I’m tired. I’m irritated. And I’m not letting a pile of fused trash delay me another second."

"CONQUEROR’S COATING— DIVINE DEPARTURE!"

Armament Core fused with Conqueror’s Will’s crescent of annihilation surged from the swing of my blade, the air itself splitting as if reality had been cleaved. The swing struck the exposed core of the Ghoul King, sending a crescent of radiant, spiritual energy into the abomination’s very essence.

The Cathedral trembled violently; shards of black marble and red crystal rained like meteor showers as the creature howled in unnatural agony.

Astra’s rose-gold gaze softened for the faintest moment. "Magnificent..."

[You killed a High-Ranked Ghoul King.]

[You have earned 10000 experience points.]

[You have collected (10) Soul of Vampire.]

...

[Collected Souls of Vampires: 6569/10,000]

[Exp. Needed for the next level up: 17,801,075/20,000,000]

Finally! I thought even this fucking bag of shit wouldn’t give a speck of EXP or Souls.

The cathedral fell silent. Even the lingering mist of crimson mana seemed to hesitate, holding its breath as the abomination’s corpse collapsed into a shapeless heap, its residual energy siphoned partially by Bob and Erebus. The ground shuddered with the weight of the aftermath, black marble cracking, red crystal splintering, and scattered remnants of fused flesh hissing as they were absorbed into the shadow residue.

I exhaled heavily, running a hand down my face. "Finally... one down."

Astra’s shadows retracted smoothly, her golden eye scanning the room for any lingering threat. "It is not over, my king," she murmured. "High-ranked guardians of this floor are... persistent. The core itself was merely a fragment of Duke Veyrath’s strategy."

"Yeah, fuck that bloodline sucking duke sideways." I was quite frustrated being in this dungeon for more or less ten days.

Try to imagine being inside a filthy, rotten and dried-up blood-filled dungeon for ten days with nothing to do but either fight or see my shadows slaughter—

BOOOOM—

"FUCK YOU TOO!"

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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