The Screaming Vault should've ended above.
That was the consensus—among the Hunter Association, among the archives, among the half-baked urban legends that circulated on Hunter-Net. A D-rank gate, they said. Probably a den of aggressive shades or malformed echoes. Simple cleanse. Quick pay.
No one expected the spiral stairwell that cracked open behind the crumbling mass grave.
"Who the hell builds down from a catacomb?" Jinho asked, torch raised. His voice echoed, uneasy.
Mirae frowned. "Or leaves something this massive unlisted?"
Suho stepped through the breach first, Caldran walking just behind like a silent shadow.
As they descended, Suho felt it—pulling. Not like a trap, but a tether. Like the Vault wanted him deeper.
He wasn't afraid.
Not anymore.
The lower level was a tomb of twisted beauty.
Marble columns lined the walls, each engraved with spiraling runes that hissed faintly when touched. The scent of burnt sage and rotting cloth mingled in the stagnant air.
Kang Minho halted near a mural half-swallowed by age and moss.
"Hey… this writing—looks like Old Ashari."
Mirae brushed off the grime and read, "Here sleeps the Sovereign of Silence. May no voice wake him, no soul crown him."
"Very subtle," Jinho muttered. "Definitely not foreshadowing."
Suho stopped in the center of the chamber. It was vast—circular again, like a throne room buried in failure. His undead fanned out around him.
Caldran lifted his blade, pointing toward the far end.
"There," he said. "I feel… something ancient."
Suho activated Gravewalker.
His vision dimmed. Everything became hues of shadow and frost. The walls bled faint green veins. And from under the cracked stone platform in the center, a massive death aura pulsed.
Not one.
Dozens. Layered. Twisted. Fused.
"Echoes," Suho whispered. "Fragmented ones. Bound together."
They weren't alone.
The floor cracked—and rose.
Dozens of malformed undead clawed their way up—some human, others grotesque composites: jawless horrors with melted skin, soldiers with broken weapons protruding from their ribs, children with empty eyes and voices screaming for parents they no longer remembered.
Jinho nearly gagged. "What the hell were they doing here?"
"Experiments," Mirae said. "Failed ones."
The first wave surged forward. Suho raised his hand.
"Form ranks!"
Caldran stepped forward, voice cold and commanding: "Oathbound, hold."
Command Chain activated.
The undead split into two squads—Caldran led the left, while Suho directed the right. The battlefield became choreography. Caldran struck like a lance—sharp and precise. Suho's archers covered blind spots. Golems shielded.
It wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter.
But they kept coming.
Behind the tide of malformed creatures, something larger crawled into view—twisted and malformed, wearing the shredded robes of a necromancer, its flesh stitched with soul fragments.
[Warning: Echo Cluster Detected – Failed Necromancer-King (Rank ???)]
Threat Level: Variable | Multiple Souls Detected
It screeched—not with voice, but with memory. Dozens of them.
"I was king!"
"I found the gate first!"
"I am immortal—why won't it work!?"
"They took it from me—MY SYSTEM!"
Mirae's eyes widened. "Did it just say system?"
Suho's mind spun.
This… thing had tried to replicate the Necrosystem.
And failed.
Spectacularly.
It launched spells—corrupted versions of necromancy, fracturing bone and flesh. Suho dodged and ordered a flank. Caldran held it back briefly, but the monstrosity exploded in raw soul energy.
He needed something more.
Something sharp.
Suho stepped back.
And reached inward.
Memory Forge: Activate
The world around him blurred. He held two fragmented echoes—one from the catacombs above, and another buried in the Vault's network: the soul of an ancient war general who once led the Southern Rebellion.
They burned with wrath.
And clarity.
"Will you rise again?" Suho whispered. "Not as you were… but as you could've been?"
The souls screamed—and fused.
He reached toward the center platform. Atop it sat a throne—ornate, blackstone. Empty.
The Hollow King's armor rested upon it, a perfect vessel. No soul within. But every contour radiated hunger.
"I give you purpose," Suho said and sent the fused soul into the vessel.
[Memory Forge Complete: New Undead Created – The Hollow Warlord]
The armor rose, hollow eyes burning violet. Its sword ignited with spectral flame. It turned and roared.
The Necromancer-King halted mid-cast. The new undead—Suho's latest—charged forward.
The battle shifted.
The Hollow Warlord moved like royalty reborn. Every strike is clean. Every step is deliberate. It didn't just attack—it commanded a presence.
Together with Caldran, they broke the Necromancer-King's form apart. Soul after soul tore free—shrieking, clawing, burning. Suho raised his hands and burned them down, purging fragments too far gone.
Only one remained—a sliver of something human, clinging to the idea of dominion.
He let it go.
Silence followed.
The throne room pulsed once—then went still.
Suho fell to one knee, breathing hard. His mana reserve was shredded, but he felt it—growth.
System Notification:
[Level Up: Kim Suho has reached Level 19]
[Stat Points +5]
[Control Limit Increased: 12 → 13]
The Hollow Warlord turned to him, then knelt without command. Caldran did the same.
Mirae whispered, "That thing… you made it."
"No," Suho replied. "I gave it form. It chose to stand."
Jinho stared at the black throne. "This… was inside a D-rank gate?"
Suho's expression hardened.
"No. This was buried here because someone wanted it forgotten."
Minho's voice shook. "So who buried it?"
Suho didn't answer.
Because he was already thinking of the next step.
There were more like this.
There had to be.
And someone—maybe a long-dead ruler, maybe the creators of the Necrosystem themselves—had once tried to become gods.
Suho wouldn't repeat their mistake.
But he would find them.
And he would raise what they left behind.