Undead Lord of Gluttonous Pride

"Ah... You're finally back."

Damien noticed the arrival of the four undead who had been accompanying him for the past few days.

The zombie is stoic, as always. The two skeletons looked quite identical. He had an idea that they could've been twins. And lastly, the archer who was ever so cautious.

As everyone gathered around the fire, the archer doing so after checking out the surroundings, the silence of the atmosphere soon assaulted them once again—only having retreated at their arrival.

Damien gave each one a short glance. The undead he thought were just plain old regular undead actually held a history to them. A grand one, in fact.

"These four shall be accompanying you on your task."

Howrah informed the glaring Damien. The old man wasn't the target of this glare but was the skeleton behind him wielding a masterfully crafted bow.

He hadn't forgiven the skeleton for its blatant betrayal despite him knowing it was under Howrah's orders to do so.

Howrah, noticing this, chuckled:

"Cease such hostilities, my dear boy. After all, if it did as it pleased, it would surely have defeated you several times over."

Howrah revealed, shocking Damien. Traces of doubt and belief spread across his face. Defeat him several times over? Even after he had just been through the strengthening of soul energy?

After awakening from his soul place, he discovered that his strength from when he woke up surprisingly increased to a substantial degree. His body, which struggled to swing an ordinary rusty steel sword without pulling himself along with it, was now able to wave it around like some twig.

His speed had now far exceeded his past self like it was night and day. He, who had struggled even to dodge a pounce from a common grey wolf, was surely able to dodge it now.

So how is Howrah so sure that this skeleton was capable of beating him? Is it because it had a far higher experience in combat compared to him? That is surely the case, right?

'But it was quite fast as well...'

He had recalled the speed at which it and the other three undead had used to carry him all the way here.

"What makes you so sure?"

Howrah smiled and then said pridefully:

"The four undead standing behind me are the Emperor's personal royal guards."

Such a revelation caused his mind to blank. Personal guards? Of the Emperor, no less! Such a prestigious group followed him around and protected him like he was the Emperor himself!

He felt a little less bitter at the thought of being defeated by the archer with a single punch.

He comforted himself at the thought of it taking an Emperor's guard to take him down.

"Wait... They would be accompanying me? For what reason? I assumed that with soldiers powerful enough to be the Emperor's royal guards—you would put them towards a task more important than overseeing me reducing the wolf population. Would that not be more logical? And what is my true mission for needing these four?"

Howrah closed his eyes at that. Silence slowly intrudes between them before swiftly scattering when he says:

"What you say is highly logical. However, this is because there is a certain group inside this empire that has been a large thorn in my rear."

He paused, his face grimacing, before continuing:

"If you were to leave and start your task, I would doubt that they wouldn't discover such an activity, especially one that threatens them."

"Me killing wolves threaten them?"

Howrah nodded and then answered:

"Without the wolves to feed their own, they would surely die. And that is what we're trying to do: take them out for good."

"What type of group causes you so much trouble that you need to aim for their food source?"

Howrah fell silent. The memories of how many times one individual had thwarted his plans in this organised group of individuals.

"The Emperor had created his group of guards consisting of five individuals. Each having one sense far exceeding the average circler's."

He then pointed towards the archer.

"This one's name is Zasir, the Eyes of the Emperor. He used to have the ability to spot even the tiniest of dust a hundred metres away."

He then pointed towards the two skeleton swordsmen.

"These two are Yuk and Kuy, the Emperor's Ears and Nose. They were able to trace the location back to an enemy that was not only several hundred miles away but also spiritual ones."

Finally, he pointed towards the zombie who leaned against his sword, with a strange look on his face that could be misunderstood as boredom.

"And lastly, we have the Emperor's hand, Grathry, whose ability to figure out his enemy's weakness with just a touch of his hand led him to become the second most terrifying of the group."

He circled around them while naming off their achievements like an announcer who had been a fan of their countless exploits in their life.

"Each one of these in their prime was, without a doubt, capable enough to take out a 5th Stage Abyssal Beast, A Profane."

Damien listened to these high praises. Abyssal beast? A Profane? What do these words mean? He wanted to ask these questions, but only one came out of his mouth instead of these.

"What about the fifth?"

Howrah had named off only four. Where is the fifth? The last sense of a human should taste, right?

Howrah gave a deep sigh.

"The Emperor's Jaws, the one who had only tasted victory, and the leader of the Royal Guards, Rager Ironclad."

His voice is filled with hate but also awe as he mentions the name of the leader of the royal guard.

"An old fossil whose age far exceeds mine. While the rest of the royal guards were at minimum the age of 25, he was almost quadruple their age and perhaps more. And despite his disadvantage with an old body, he was still able to reign as the most powerful, just beneath the Emperor in power."

"What made him so powerful?"

"Hm? Experience, my boy."

Howrah answered.

"Experience is everything. Since he had lived for over two centuries, he had gained countless and numerous skills that allowed him to have the edge over his enemies. In books, it was said he had even been able to injure a Pseudo-Sixth Stage Abyssal Beast, an Abyssal. Not sure how true that is..."

His voice slowly trailed off.

Howrah, who had been staring at Damien as he spoke, turned his back on him, his arms wrapped around his hunched back.

He then said:

"You asked me what your true mission really was. Is that correct?"

Damien nodded.

"Your true mission is to..."