The Necropolis was silent.
No clang of kobold pickaxes. No rustling of treant leaves. No goblin war-songs rising from the lower quarters. Even the beastmen had set aside their forges and hunts.
Everywhere Kael looked, his army stood in stillness, as if the entire world was holding its breath.
Because today, everything was about to change.
At the central dais of the Necropolis, Kael stood upon black stone carved with abyssal runes. His cloak fluttered, woven not from cloth but from the very shadows of his Necromancy. Around him, the leaders of every race he commanded knelt — awaiting their metamorphosis.
The Kobolds.Two generals, armored in steel and obsidian, their scales glimmering faintly. They had mined, fought, and bled in his name. And now, their bodies cracked as veins of glowing light traced across them. The stone of the abyss itself seemed to fuse with their flesh, heralding their transformation into Epic Rank Stonebound Kobold Warlords.
The Treants.Their leaders rooted deeply into the earth, their bark splitting as golden sap leaked out like molten sunlight. Leaves shed in cascades, then regrew as crystalline fronds that glowed with eternal flame. They would rise as Epic Rank Verdant Flame Treants, living bulwarks of both growth and fire.
The Beastmen.Two chieftains, one a leonine warrior whose roar had shaken mini-bosses, the other a lithe foxlike artisan who had guided their crafts. They knelt with heads bowed, their bodies warping into towering forms — muscles coiled with raw might, eyes blazing with primal cunning. They would become Epic Rank Beastlord and Beastcaller, twin pillars of their kin.
And then, the sovereigns.
Kael's eyes lingered on the four sovereigns of flame, tide, shadow, and light — his first companions, his truest blades in this long war.
Pyraflame — the Flame Sovereign Drake.The ground around him trembled as his scales ignited in molten gold. Wings of fire unfurled, stretching so far the chamber itself seemed too small. Pyraflame roared, a sound that shook the abyss. His path was clear: toward Mythic Rank, the embodiment of a sun caged in draconic form.
Aquara — the Tidecaller Spirit.The air shimmered with waves. Her form cascaded between water and crystal, flesh and spirit, until she resembled a living ocean compressed into mortal shape. A tidal crown formed upon her brow. Her essence surged toward Mythic evolution — the sea's eternal guardian.
Luminara — Seraph's Dawn.Wings of pure light burst open, feathers scattering like shards of dawn itself. Her radiance burned away the shadows clinging to the chamber. She knelt only to Kael, her ascension toward Mythic Seraph undeniable, a beacon in this abyssal night.
Umbra — the Shadow Stalker.Darkness rippled like oil across his body, his form shifting between hound, mist, and nightmare. He devoured the abyss's own shadows, twisting them into blades. He was not ascending — he was conquering. His path would be Mythic Abyssal Predator, a stalker that even the abyss feared.
And finally, at the foot of the dais, Graknar.
The goblin who had begun as little more than a summoned E-rank runt now towered taller than any beastman. His body thrummed with power. Behind him stood thousands of goblins and their evolved kin, all kneeling in reverence.
Green fire erupted around him, the mark of a Mythic Goblin Overlord in the making.
Kael smiled faintly. "From the weakest to the kingliest… you've come further than any of us, Graknar."
The system chimed, cutting through the chamber.
[ Evolution process for selected leaders and sovereigns: Commencing. Time required: 72 hours. ][ Warning: Final Floor Boss has been stirred by Abyssal Surge. Teleportation Circle unlocked. ]
The black stone at the far end of the dais cracked. Lines of abyssal energy carved themselves into the floor, forming a massive circle filled with writhing violet light. A chill swept through the Necropolis, as if every shadow bent toward that one portal.
Kael's gaze lingered on it. His heart did not race. His hand did not tremble.
He had been waiting for this.
He turned his back to the circle, facing his army — some evolving, others standing sentinel. His voice carried to every corner of the Necropolis.
"For two years, we have bled, clawed, and burned our way through the abyss. Every wave of corruption, every boss, every abyssal spawn — we conquered them all."
He spread his arms. Behind him, the thirty mini-bosses and ten bosses he had raised with Necromancy stood like towers of undeath, silent witnesses to his rise.
"And now, at last, the Abyss shows us its true heart."
He pointed to the circle.
"Beyond that lies the final boss. The core of this world. The thing that even abyssal generals feared to wake."
Silence. Then a single howl. Then a thousand voices — goblins shrieking, kobolds roaring, beastmen howling, treants creaking, elementals crackling with their elemental fury.
Kael let the sound wash over him.
"When your evolutions are complete," he said, voice low but cutting through the roar, "we march. Not to survive. Not to endure. But to end this dungeon… and claim the Abyss itself."
As the Necropolis shook with unified fury, something stirred beyond the circle.
Something vast. Something patient.
And in the void, it whispered:
Come then, Necromancer. Bring your army. Bring your sovereigns. Let us see if the grave you command can bury me.