Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

"Your Majesty, Apache City is just ahead."

The captain of the royal guard, Ares, rode alongside the king and reported in a low voice.

The king reined in his horse and gazed at the vast city that was silhouetted against the plain in the distance.

The city walls still stand tall, but inside, there is no trace of the past hustle and bustle; it is as silent as the skeleton of a giant beast.

"Is this the city that was rumored to have been destroyed by the 'World-Destroying Dragon' a few months ago?" the king asked in a deep voice.

"Yes, Your Majesty. The intelligence is accurate," Ares replied, a hint of wariness in his voice.

"Strange," the king frowned slightly, "the Orc Kingdom has not sent troops to re-garrison this strategic location."

"Perhaps... it's fear," Ares guessed.

"After all, that rumor was too terrifying. The entire city vanished overnight, leaving only bloodstains. Ordinary orc soldiers probably wouldn't dare to approach such a place."

The king nodded, but was quickly processing the information in his mind.

He had already received a series of unusual reports about the orc kingdom.

First, the residents of Apache City all vanished.

Next, a well-organized orc army mysteriously disappeared near the border.

Then another town suffered a similar fate to Apache.

"The other two things are still unclear, but the disappearance of that army..." the king thought to himself, "I know the inside story."

His son, Leylin, had briefly explained to him the annihilation of an invading orc army on the border, mentioning that it had been handled very cleanly.

In the king's understanding, that meant annihilating the enemy army and clearing the battlefield.

But Leylin only talked about the army and did not mention cities and towns.

Therefore, the king was unsure whether the tragedy in Apache was also related to Leylin.

"Could this city really have been destroyed by some kind of 'world-destroying dragon'?" The king wondered.

But then she instinctively connected the dots: "However... these three things happened so close together, is it really just a coincidence? Could it all be the work of that brat Leylin?"

He knew that his son's strength had already entered the realm of "abnormal beings," and he might even be a level above his father, who had just broken through.

With the power of the abnormal, it is theoretically not impossible for them to annihilate a city if they spare no expense or time.

The issue is……

"It's impossible to do it so cleanly," the king thought to himself, judging from his own experience.

"With my current strength, if I go all out, I might be able to kill most of the orcs in the city, but I absolutely cannot guarantee that not a single one will escape and report back."

"It's even more impossible for the entire city to be like this now, completely empty except for bloodstains, without even a single corpse or any trace of a large-scale struggle."

"The orcs' resistance and will to survive should not be underestimated."

He was using his own strength as a benchmark to estimate the scale of destruction that Leylin might cause, and his conclusion was...

Even if Leylin were stronger, he might not be able to achieve this kind of "evaporation" effect.

"Perhaps... it really is a coincidence? The actions of the 'World-Destroying Demon Dragon' just happened to coincide with Leylin's annihilation of the army?"

The king preferred this more "reasonable" explanation.

After all, while the idea of ​​"a demonic dragon destroying a city" sounds terrifying, it actually makes more sense in this fantasy world.

"Your Majesty," Ares's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Should we proceed with our plan to approach the city?"

The king regained his senses and ordered, "Send a team of elite scouts into the city to investigate."

"After confirming that there are no unusual ambushes or remaining dangers, the army will slowly advance. If anything seems amiss, we will immediately withdraw."

"Yes!" Ares accepted the order and was about to turn around to make arrangements.

Just then, something unexpected happened!

Without warning, a figure rose from the dead-sounding center of the city, streaked across the empty sky, and flew straight toward their army!

"Be on guard! Something's up!" Ares' pupils contracted, and he shouted sharply.

The well-trained guards immediately tightened their formation, nocked their crossbows, and the mages began to chant protective spells in low voices.

The king narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the approaching figure.

"A survivor? Or... a new enemy?" he wondered. "Being able to use [flight] magic means they're at least quite strong."

However, when the figure flew closer enough for everyone to see its exact appearance, everyone felt a chill in their hearts!

Those were neither orcs nor human survivors!

It was a hideous monster with two shriveled heads and six withered arms!

Its face was twisted and stiff, and its body was shrouded in a gray-black death aura that seemed to have a physical presence. Just looking at it from a distance made one feel a chill rise up from their spine.

"A monster?! No...it's an undead!"

Ares instantly recognized the true nature of this natural enemy of the living, and his blood boiled as he drew his sword.

"Your Majesty, please step back! This humble general will lead the guards to block it!"

There is often no dialogue between the living and the immortal; there is only a life-or-death struggle.

Ares's first reaction was to rush forward and kill the opponent before he could pose a greater threat.

"Ares! Halt!" The king's deep and majestic voice rang out.

A hand pressed firmly on Ares's arm guard, stopping his impulsive action.

"Your Majesty?!" Ares asked, puzzled and anxious.

"Withdraw. Order the entire army that no attack is permitted without my command."

The king's voice was unquestionable, but his gaze was fixed on the undead in the air.

"This enemy... is beyond your capabilities. Everyone retreat, maintain formation, and I will handle it."

"Your Majesty! We are your guards, how can we allow you to risk your life alone?!" Ares retorted, refusing to budge an inch.

The king turned to his loyal commander, his voice spitting out with unusual urgency, "Ares, don't you understand yet?"

"If a fight really breaks out, not only will you be of no help, but you'll also become a weakness that I have to protect! You might even become meaningless cannon fodder!"

"Cannon fodder?!" Ares was struck dumb, his face filled with disbelief.

Not long ago, with the help of the Bloodline Purification Potion bestowed upon him by the King, he successfully broke through the bottleneck that had plagued him for many years.

He has officially stepped into the "hero" realm that countless warriors dream of!

His strength has increased dramatically, and he is confident that he can deal with most threats. Yet, he is now being described by the king as "cannon fodder."

"Your Majesty, I have advanced to the Hero Realm! I will never be a burden to you!" Ares eagerly proved himself.

"I know." The king's tone softened slightly, but remained solemn.

"I am pleased with your progress, but... it's not enough. That monster in the sky, its level has probably reached above the 'abnormal' realm."

"Without equal strength, you don't even have the right to stand in front of it."

Ares was stunned.

The Abnormal One? Those are legendary, terrifying beings who transcend the realm of heroes and can influence a nation single-handedly.

If Your Majesty says this, does it mean... Your Majesty has already broken through?

What puzzled him even more was that he did not feel any overwhelming pressure from the undead.

(If the king knew what he was thinking, he would probably smile wryly: it was because the other party had focused all their mental pressure and aura on him!)

"Execute the order, Ares." The king said decisively, offering no further explanation.

"All troops on alert, but do not attack for now. Listen to what this undead has to say. It has appeared on purpose, perhaps not just for the sake of killing."

Despite his doubts and innate hostility toward the undead, Ares was absolutely obedient to the king's orders.

He gritted his teeth and waved his hand, issuing a series of orders. The army, which was on high alert, was like a hedgehog poised to pounce, but temporarily sheathed its sharpest quills.

At this moment, the terrifying two-headed, six-armed undead was already hovering in mid-air not far in front of the army.

It made no attempt to conceal its ferocious appearance, enough to stop a child from crying.

Two heads and four eyes indifferently surveyed the human army below, finally fixing their gaze on the king at the head.

An invisible yet heavy pressure enveloped the king, making the air seem to freeze.

Then it spoke, its voice dry and hoarse, like the friction of sand, yet it carried clearly throughout the entire hall, with an ancient and eerie calm:

"King of Mankind... Good afternoon. I am Benjeri, bearing the name of the Abyss—Benjeri Ansis."