Rise Of The Hoarder

The underground region of the tower was full of activity—unlike the surface—just as I expected.

Several Undead charged at us, but I ignored them and simply ordered them to kill one another. Undead were monsters with Low Intelligence, so it was quite easy—no, effortless—to make them do my bidding.

Traps, Undead knights, and Undead beasts of various kinds greeted us, but it wasn’t even a challenge to get rid of them.

Compared to the previous Floor, this seemed easier in terms of combat, but I could that it was more difficult based on other criteria.

One was intelligence, the other was discernment. There was also the aspect of self-control. In any case, violence wasn’t the driving force behind this scenario.

After observing and moving for a while, I finally reached a large door. It appeared to be the Boss Room, and I could sense a massive amount of energy emanating from it. However…

‘Are things really so straightforward?’

My eyes darted around, and then I spotted something peculiar. It was so inconspicuous that anyone could have missed it. It was a much smaller, less impressive door along the hallway to my right.

A smile formed on my face as I withdrew my attention from all other areas and focused on the small, unimpressive door. It was big enough for people, sure… but Demons were different. Most times, large Demons were Bosses, so one would never expect to find such an adversary there._.

But, I could sense it…

Lurking beyond those doors was something more dangerous than the huge one that was erected.

With a wide grin buried underneath my mask, I quickened my steps and began walking in the direction of the inconspicuous area. The foolish Gifteds with me appeared confused and hesitant, but the fact that they followed me nonetheless showed their level of trust in the Masked Hero.

‘Now, then…’

I wanted to see what kind of twist this Tower had prepared for me.

*************

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” A cruelly miserable voice screamed out in the room.

It was a vast area that was filled with so many different things. From stored body parts to several ingredients that seemed so bizarre, this was a haven for something utterly sinister.

A threshing floor was erected at the center of the room, and a being was rummaging around the room, hurriedly moving with panic written on his face.

This being had horns emanating from its head, and a long dark robe covered its slim body. Its white, disheveled hair was long enough to fall upon its shoulders and its pale skin was utterly horrifying.

“Not now! I’m almost done! Almost!” The old, disheveled being growled in annoyance.

He was a vampire, an Elite Undead who was said to be immortal, but the old and irritated being knew just how true those legends were.

“I can’t fail now… Niggaruth doesn’t fail!” He grumbled as he sought out many things across the room.

Everything was being converged in some sort of container at the end of the room. What seemed to be many pipes connected to it, and severely dense energy was swirling within the container.

Niggaruth—the Vampire—assembled more ingredients and added it to the container, making it release vapors of death. The Miasma was taken by several pipes which led to the top of the Tower. It would be released into the air and cover the clouds.

To many, it would be considered deadly, but to Niggaruth, it was only a waste product.

What truly mattered was what he was trying to make.

“After years. All those years, centuries… to be cornered like this!?!”

Niggaruth was a Vampire, which made him an elite of the elite. He was an Undead that belonged to the highest cadre, and he was no mere Vampire either. He was a powerful one, one of the few who would be considered Grade 5.

Unfortunately, he fell from power and lost most of his powers. Having lost his prime, and now a ragged old man, this Vampire needed to restore his youth and reclaim his power.

It is said that Vampires lived forever, but that isn’t necessarily true.

Their long life was guaranteed, but being able to maintain the height of their powers depended on the quality of their meal.

If they fed well, they could keep up with their powerful state. But, without the right nutrients, they would turn disheveled like Niggaruth.

He had fallen from his beautiful state and now desired to return. For that, he needed an Elixir.

That was why he came to this settlement.

By absorbing the life force of thousands of people, he created the base ingredient of his Elixir. After that, he simply needed to create and mix more ingredients until he arrived at the perfect stage.

He had been at this for how long now? Centuries? During that time, he had shrunk even more, but none of it concerned Niggaruth. Once his potion was complete, he would have absolute power.

He would be able to stand beside his king—the Pale Rider himself.

Unfortunately, some intruders abruptly arrived at his base. They broke in through the surface and found his underground structure.

Initially, Niggaruth didn’t pay them any heed. He thought they were simply lucky to have slipped past the weak Undead townsfolk and find his site. Still, he believed his superior Undead would decimate the rude intruders.

—They didn’t!

It was the opposite, in fact.

The assaulters easily breezed through the Undead and traps he prepared. It was something he hadn’t expected. Finally, at some point, Niggaruth began to panic.

He was almost close to finalizing his Elixir.

If only he had a day, no… a few more hours! Why did things have to turn out this way?

He simply hoped the large gate he erected would be enough to buy him time to complete his most prized possession.

Niggaruth may not have looked it, but he was a very powerful Magic User, especially in his Prime. No one among the Undead Generals serving the Lord of Death could use Spells as he could.

He knew about Potions and Magic more than most, which was why he had confidence in what he was making.

The Elixir Of Life.

Once it was done, he would be immortal in every sense.