My Skeleton Soldier Is Strange - Chapter 185

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 185
At Kim Jae-beom’s command, the Undead Legion advanced without hesitation into the Dark Forest. Skeletal soldiers, composed of bleached bone, trampled the uneven earth beneath their feet. The crunch of fallen leaves crushed beneath their boots, the eerie scrape of brittle branches against bone—these sounds shattered the night’s silence. A death-march dissolving slowly into pitch-black darkness. The forest seemed swallowed by absolute stillness.
Yet that quiet was fleeting. Heavy, thunderous footfalls and ragged breathing grew louder with each passing moment. Colossal undead abominations, resurrected through Arulan’s forbidden incantations, emerged from the dense undergrowth. Skeletal frames with patches of decayed flesh clinging to them, hollow eye sockets, a reek so vile it seemed to emanate from the depths of perdition itself—they were nightmares made manifest.
In that instant, an incomprehensible sight unfolded. Every tree convulsed. Treants, concealed within the verdant canopy, shed their camouflage and revealed themselves. They were colossal beings, their massive forms draped in lush green foliage like ancient oaks. Limbs of gnarled wood, bark-like skin rough and weathered, eyes deep and ancient.
Everything was Treants.
“Roooaaarrr!”
With a cry that split the heavens, the Treants charged toward the undead horde. Swaying their thick trunks side to side, they unleashed merciless blows upon the death legion. Massive branches cleaved through the air, shattering skulls; roots of iron strength tore through undead carapaces. Wooden fists, caked with earth, battered the undead without mercy.
Yet the Undead Legion was no easy prey. Red malice flickered in the eye sockets of skulls twisted by terrible madness. Drooling as they charged, they scraped bark from wood with sharp blades and shattered branches with ponderous mauls. The forest’s guardians fell, spilling black ichor. Before the relentless onslaught of the undead, the Treants began to yield ground. The colossal monsters Kim Jae-beom had summoned trampled them with devastating force.
The Battlefield became a hellscape. Splintered wood and severed leaves scattered on winds of blood. Skulls crushed beyond recognition, earth drenched in crimson gore. A grotesque tableau where scarlet blood and deep-green sap intermingled like vomit from hell itself. Screams, roars, and the clash of steel merged into a cacophony that assaulted the night sky. It was a carnage beyond imagination.
Crash!
Within that chaos, a deafening boom shook the earth itself. The ground beneath fractured and crumbled, transforming into a vast chasm. From that fissure, dark as the Abyss itself, green tendrils clawed upward.
Roots pulsing with life-force writhed like serpents, hurtling toward the undead and monsters with arrow-like speed. Then, with inconceivable strength, they began to constrict their bodies. The Undead Legion recoiled in shock. Pressure so intense bones seemed on the verge of shattering. They thrashed desperately, but they were ensnared helplessly in the snare of life itself.
The undead and monsters, gradually consumed by verdant radiance, seemed powerless before nature’s grip. Even their malevolent strength proved futile.
Yet the Elves’ hope was short-lived. An eerie darkness descended upon the Battlefield.
A whispered voice trembled through the air.
“Click-click.”
With a sound that tickled the ears, Arulan’s hand extended toward the void. From his fingertips erupted black mist that seemed to devour light itself.
As that death-infused fog seeped into the earth, a horrifying spectacle unfolded. Eerie smoke began to rise from the blue tendrils. The roots, engulfed in mist, convulsed in agony and gradually lost their luminescence. The verdant stems blackened with rot, their once-solid bark crumbled and withered.
Soon the completely withered vines transformed into ash scattered by the wind. Freed from their green prison, the Undead Legion fixed the Elves with eyes ablaze with madness. Before this sudden reversal of fortune, the Elves were consumed by shock and despair.
Silence hung over the forest, yet the Elves’ hearts thundered with terror. They could not believe the reality before their eyes. Their own kin, resurrected as undead, now attacked them. This was the most tragic and devastating moment in Elven history.
Then, malevolent energy erupted from the earth. Black roots writhed like serpents, burrowing into the ground. They resembled the tentacles of demons crawling from the Abyss itself. Dark, mottled bark, repulsive secretions dripping from withered branches, thorns sharp as fangs.
The corrupted roots tore through the frigid air and rapidly emerged from the earth. Shaped by Arulan’s incantations, they had become even more ferocious and malevolent. Their skeletal structure—whether branch or bone, none could tell—radiated evil.
The roots lunged at the Elves with terrifying speed. Sharp thorns and a nauseating stench lured them in. Before they could flee, the Elves were ensnared by massive tendrils. The thorns bit into flesh with searing pain; the vile secretions assaulted their eyes and nostrils. Gasping for breath under crushing pressure, the Elves gradually lost consciousness.
The malevolent roots began to drain their life-force. Wherever the Elves’ skin touched the roots, grotesque transformations occurred. Pale, delicate flesh dissolved; once-beautiful forms twisted into horror. Lustrous golden hair crumbled to ash. Soon all flesh vanished, leaving only bleached bone.
The Elves met their end in terrible agony, a fate too horrific to witness. Their screams echoed through the forest like torn eardrums.
“Aaaaahhhhh!”
Yet death was not their end. The Elves, tainted by malevolent energy, convulsed as their breath left them, then rose again unnaturally. Their eyes, now hollow and vacant, burned with unspeakable madness. The grace and nobility that once defined them had vanished entirely. What remained were only zombies consumed by corruption and hunger.
The surviving Elves retreated in terror. Their own kin, once their protectors, now sought to destroy them. Despair deeper than death itself crushed them. Yet there was nowhere left to flee. They had no choice but to fight for their lives.
The undead Elves descended upon their living brethren without mercy. Blades clashed, flesh and bone shattered. The forest transformed into a battlefield of carnage in moments.
Meanwhile, the roots of corruption spread across the earth, poisoning the entire forest. As the green life-force faded, grass and trees blackened and died. Petals rotted to pulp, leaves turned to ash. A thick fog blanketed the forest, emanating an ominous aura.
Boom-boom-boom!
Then another nightmare arrived. The earth beneath rumbled and shook, rapidly splitting into a massive fissure. Those who sensed the danger instinctively dodged. Yet what awaited them was an even more terrible reality.
Between the cracks, dark shadows emerged. Treants. But they were utterly transformed. Their lush foliage had withered and fallen away; their heavy branches were now skeletal frames. Their bark, drained of green vitality, was fractured and crumbling.
The Treants, once guardians of the forest, had become walking tree-zombies—incarnations of corruption.
“Roooaaarrr!”
With grotesque roars, the corrupted Treants descended mercilessly upon the surviving Elves and Treants. From their shattered bodies poured black sap. Claws fashioned from sharp branches raked flesh; fragments of rotted wood tore away skin.
Before their relentless assault, the Elves and Treants were utterly helpless.
Vision blurred, consciousness faded. The bodies of Elves and Treants writhing in agony convulsed, then rose once more. Life had long since departed from their eyes.
The newly resurrected Elves and Treants attacked the living without hesitation. Guilt over assailing their own kind had long since vanished. Now only destruction and slaughter gave their existence meaning. Cruel blades and sharp branches were wielded with devastating force.
As time passed, the entire forest was consumed by an ominous aura. The peaceful green forest no longer existed.
Now only the World Tree remained.
Of course, no one could guarantee it would still be intact.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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