Then there was the {Slow Curse} skill, which Michael discovered could be applied to multiple targets simultaneously.
The only trade-off was increased mana consumption and a shorter duration of the curse’s effect.
As for {Bone Armour}, Michael activated and deactivated it repeatedly, even deliberately allowing himself to get hit so he could heal the damaged sections and raise the skill’s proficiency points.
All of this drained a significant amount of his mana, but not enough to worry him or push him to allocate attribute points to his Intelligence.
However, amidst all this chaos, there was one skill Michael loved the most—aside from {Bone Spear}—and that was {Corpse Explosion}.
—
[{Corpse Explosion} (Basic Mastery) Proficiency: 8.7%]
Corpse Explosion detonates the remains of a defeated enemy, causing a devastating area attack.
Your next chapter is on empire
Explosion Radius: 4 meters.
…
The monsters emerging from the level 3 cracks were the same.
Long-armed monkeys.
Standing at least two meters tall, their short legs and arms as long as their bodies gave them an odd appearance.
But to Michael, their limbs weren’t their most attracting feature.
What bothered him was the color of their fur.
It was bright pink.
For a moment, the entire scene felt surreal.
Michael didn’t mind the color pink, but this… it was simply too vibrant.
Too colourful to say.
It clashed harshly with the grim, battle-ridden environment.
Grabbing one of the corpses of a long-armed monkey, Michael activated {Corpse Explosion}.
The skill was mana-intensive, but its effects were devastating.
According to Michael’s observations, the skill allowed him to infuse mana into a corpse, forming intricate magic pathways that turned the body into a volatile container.
By using the lingering energy within the corpse, combined with his own mana, he could create a deadly bomb.
The power of the explosion depended on several factors: the strength of the corpse, the amount of mana used, and the size of the body.
It had its limitations, but in situations like this, it was an incredibly effective weapon.
Michael hurled the prepared corpse toward a group of long-armed monkeys charging at one of his undead.
The corpse struck one of the monsters, and in a cold, emotionless tone, Michael commanded:
“Explode.”
Boom!
The corpse detonated instantly, tearing apart the group of monkeys.
Three died on the spot, their bodies reduced to mangled remains, while a fourth, just slightly outside the four-meter blast radius, was injured.
In one move, Michael had eliminated four enemies with a single corpse.
That was the sheer destructive power of {Corpse Explosion}.
Of course, the damage depended on the mana he poured into the corpse and the quality of the body itself.
The stronger the corpse, the more devastating the explosion—and the greater the mana cost.
As for the word he spoke before the explosion, it wasn’t necessary.
The activation was tied purely to his will, but saying it aloud helped solidify the mental image, ensuring the corpse exploded exactly when he intended.
Michael had one of his undead finish off the injured monster and didn’t stop. He charged through several more, tossing explosive corpses now and then.
He couldn’t help but admire the effect. For the first time, he understood why Mira seemed so excited about blowing things up.
It was art.
Explosion is art.
Each blast sent shockwaves through the air, scattering the monsters and leaving destruction in its wake. The satisfaction of seeing it all unfold was oddly fulfilling.
Between the explosions, Michael had his undead handle any survivors, ensuring no monster was left standing.
Amid the chaos, he pulled out his phone, glanced at it, and quickly put it back.
“No message. No signal. Something’s definitely wrong,” he muttered.
This world was far more advanced than Earth, even if Woodstone City didn’t fully reflect that. Regardless of how chaotic the current situation was, it shouldn’t have been enough to bring down network service.
So it could only mean one thing.
The lack of signal on his phone wasn’t a mistake.
It was deliberate.
“It must be the work of the demonic supernaturals,” Michael speculated.
Just because he hadn’t encountered any in his community didn’t mean they weren’t involved.
In fact, they had already been participating in this mess from the very moment they summoned these cracks into the real world.
Still, regardless of the broader situation, Michael’s immediate task was to clear the monsters around him.
Even so, he kept part of his focus on the bigger picture.
He didn’t particularly care about the Federation’s reaction if something extreme was to happen, though he’d do his best to avoid antagonizing them.
However, if a major event forced him to choose between the public and his family, his decision was clear.
He’d choose his family.
If possible, he’d also save parts of the public so his family could be included in the ‘Public’ he saved to reduce any complications.
But when it came down to it, his family would always come first.
As these thoughts churned through his mind, Michael continued casting his skills and killing monsters, unaware of what was unfolding in other parts of the city.
—
In a location far from Michael’s apartment, Mira and Lilian stood side by side with a group of other supernaturals.
This was another community, much better maintained than Michael’s.
Even in its ruined state, it was clear this place had been a cut above before chaos descended.
Compared to Michael’s community—where elevators in tall buildings no longer functioned—this one at least had some semblance of modern convenience.
Perhaps because of the better environment, there were more supernaturals here—and not just more, but stronger ones as well.
While Lilian and Mira were among the powerful individuals in Michael’s community, here, they weren’t the strongest.
The most powerful person in this area was an old cultivator who, as introductions revealed, was a retired soldier.
Soldiers still existed in this world, but their role carried a unique meaning.
With no internal wars within the Federation aside from conflicts with demonic supernaturals, soldiers were primarily needed for battles within dimensional cracks.
And this wasn’t just any soldier who had passed through a military academy—he was a cultivator.
A late-stage Rank Three cultivator, no less.
If Michael were present and aware of this fact, an old thought would undoubtedly resurface
“Why are old people in the Federation so strong?”
