Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 141: Secret of the Slave Trade Guild.

[Frostbitten Tundra]

The Frostbitten Tundra was one of the deadliest regions within the Uncharted Territory.

A thin crust of ice blanketed the land, freezing everything for miles in every direction.

Thick fog rolled low over the frozen soil, obscuring vision and distorting distance. It was impossible to see more than a few dozen meters ahead.

Aside from the sharp wind that howled across the plains, the entire region was steeped in a deadly silence.

Fenric walked across the ice-covered ground, draped in an ordinary black robe.

His expression was distant, lost in thought, seemingly unbothered by the biting cold that cut through flesh like invisible blades.

The wind tugged at his robe and lashed against his pale skin, yet he showed no reaction.

Each of his steps produced a faint crunch against the frozen surface.

Suddenly, movement stirred within the fog.

At first, it was nothing more than a vague shadow shifting in the distance. After a few seconds, a massive shape emerged into view.

It was a salamander.

Or rather, what had once been a salamander.

The creature was unmistakably dead.

Icicles clung to its enormous body, and its once-vibrant scales had turned a lifeless white, drained of all color.

Frost coated its limbs, and its eyes were hollow and unseeing. Yet it moved with unnatural precision.

The Undead Frost Salamander approached Fenric and lowered its massive body in silent obedience.

Fenric stepped forward without hesitation and climbed onto its back.

The undead creature turned and surged forward, racing deeper into the Frostbitten Tundra with astonishing speed.

Half an hour later, they arrived before a massive fissure in the frozen earth.

Without slowing, the Undead Frost Salamander dove into the chasm.

As they descended, the temperature dropped even further.

The walls of the fissure were slick with ice, and jagged formations jutted out like frozen teeth. The darkness thickened as they moved deeper underground.

No one would have imagined that the hideout of the Slave Trade Guild was concealed within such a deadly, frozen wasteland.

After traveling several dozen meters below the surface, they reached the bottom of the fissure and entered a concealed cave system.

Inside, the environment changed dramatically. Though still cold, the air was more stable. Torches burned along the walls, casting flickering light across rough stone surfaces.

Several Awakeners stood guard within the cave, wrapped in thick robes and layers of beast fur to shield themselves from the chill.

"Leader..." they greeted respectfully when they saw Fenric mounted on the undead salamander.

Fenric did not respond. He dismounted smoothly from the creature’s back and landed lightly on the stone floor.

"How are the preparations?" he asked.

Gone was the earlier indifference in his tone. His voice was solemn and resolute.

"Leader, everything has been prepared," a woman answered promptly.

She was a Level 16 Warrior, her posture rigid with discipline.

"Good," Fenric replied with a slight nod. "No matter what happens, I am not to be disturbed."

His gaze swept across them, cold and final.

"Yes, Leader," they answered in unison.

Fenric turned and proceeded deeper into the cave.

The Awakeners watched his departing figure with expressions of reverence and unwavering loyalty.

Others might call him evil.

Others might condemn his methods and curse his name.

But to them, Fenric was their hope.

Their savior.

The one who would lead them beyond weakness and into dominance.

That belief burned within them with unshakable conviction.

At the deepest part of the cave stood a massive stone door.

As Fenric approached, mechanisms within the wall rumbled, and the heavy slab slid aside.

He entered and sealed the door behind him.

The chamber beyond was vast, an underground laboratory illuminated by rows of eerie lanterns.

The scent inside was thick and metallic.

Tens of large drums filled with blood were arranged across the floor.

To the left stood shelves lined with glass jars. Each jar contained preserved body parts, both human and beast.

Hearts.

Livers.

Eyes.

Brains.

Organs of every kind floated in murky preserving fluids.

At the center of the chamber stood several experimental tables.

One table was covered with freshly dissected human corpses, their incisions still raw and wet.

Another held the shriveled remains of beasts long dead, their flesh dried and cracked with age.

In one corner, a massive cauldron bubbled violently. Inside it churned a mixture of beast blood and human blood, thick and dark red, releasing a pungent stench that saturated the air.

Fenric approached the cauldron and studied it carefully.

He nodded faintly.

Reaching toward a nearby shelf, he retrieved a small bottle. Inside was a silvery liquid that shimmered faintly in the dim light.

He uncorked it without hesitation and poured the entire contents into the boiling mixture.

Whoosh!

Instantly, the cauldron reacted violently.

The boiling intensified.

Thick bubbles burst at the surface, splattering droplets across the floor. The red blood began to shift in color.

It turned purple.

Then darker purple.

Gradually, the hue deepened until the liquid became completely black.

If not for the lingering metallic scent, it would have been impossible to guess that the substance had once been blood.

Fenric did not hesitate.

He removed his robe, revealing his thin, pale body beneath.

Completely naked, he inhaled deeply.

Then he stepped into the cauldron.

"Ahhh!"

A tortured scream tore from his throat as the black liquid made contact with his skin. The pain was immediate and overwhelming.

His body convulsed, veins bulging violently across his forehead and neck.

But he did not retreat.

Gritting his teeth, he began chanting an incantation.

The air within the chamber shifted.

An unseen presence seemed to descend upon the room.

A powerful wind swept through the underground laboratory, though there were no openings through which air could enter.

The atmosphere grew tense.

A suffocating pressure filled the space.

Bang! Bang!

Several glass jars shattered simultaneously, exploding into fragments. Preserving liquid splashed across the floor, and severed body parts fell and rolled across the stone floor.

Fenric remained focused.

He continued chanting with relentless determination.

His skin began to blister.

Then peel.

Chunks of flesh sloughed away, dissolving into the black liquid.

His hair fell out in clumps.

He did not stop.

His voice rose higher, reaching the most critical portion of the incantation.

Suddenly, his eyes rolled backward, and his pupils vanished entirely.

His body shook violently within the cauldron.

All of his skin had fallen away.

Only his skeleton remained standing in the black liquid.

And yet, his organs were still intact.

They clung to his skeletal frame, fully formed and functioning.

But they were no longer red.

They had turned completely black.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Then, without warning, his skeletal form jerked.

His head snapped forward.

He was alive.

His eye sockets, once empty, now glowed with a pitch-black darkness deeper than midnight.

It was a terrifying sight.

Fenric gasped repeatedly for air, his ribcage rising and falling rapidly. He struggled to climb out of the cauldron, his skeletal limbs trembling as they bore his weight.

He collapsed briefly onto the stone floor but forced himself upright.

With slow, staggered movements, he dragged himself toward the far end of the chamber.

There, embedded into the wall, stood a slab of pure ice the height of a human.

Its surface was smooth and polished, resembling a mirror.

Fenric stopped before it.

For a moment, he stared at his reflection, a skeletal figure with blackened organs and hollow eyes filled with darkness.

Then he reached into his inventory and withdrew a bone dagger.

"This is it..." he murmured inwardly, his resolve unwavering.

He could delay no longer.

Everything depended on this moment.

Taking another steady breath, he began chanting a different incantation. His skeletal fingers tightened around the bone dagger.

The air grew heavy once more.

Then, his shadow began to move.