Dungeon Corpse Stacker: I Absorb Everything to Become Ominous Monarch
Chapter 12: The Reign of the Sovereign

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The Reign of the Sovereign

The screams echoing across the pitch-black dome of Sector 2 were not the sound of a battle; they were the sound of an absolute massacre.

Black shadow tendrils erupted from the pavement like living serpents, wrapping around the ankles, arms, and throats of two hundred elite Association guards. The high-tier enchanted tactical armor that usually protected them from Class-A dungeon monsters melted like warm wax under the overwhelming weight of Renan’s [Monarch’s Domain].

CRACK-LE!

Director General Kael, pinned to the shattered roof of the Gilded Vault Bank beneath Renan’s boot, spat out a mouthful of dark, clotted blood. His optical visor was shattered, his face covered in deep lacerations, but his eyes still held a lingering spark of disbelief.

"You... you can’t... do this..." Kael wheezed, his fingers clawing fruitlessly at the rough concrete. "The Association... is backed by the World Council... If you slaughter us... you’ll be branded an global enemy of humanity..."

Renan looked down at the broken S-Rank swordsman. His purple eyes remained cold, unyielding, and completely devoid of emotion.

"A global enemy?" Renan asked softly. He lowered his right hand, his fingers clawing through the air as dark violet lightning crackled around his knuckles. "Humanity didn’t care when I was dragged into that Class-S gate as a sacrificial lamb. Humanity didn’t care when Leon severed my hamstrings for a paycheck. Why should I care about your council?"

[Target: Live S-Rank Hunter (Kael - Swordsman Type) Detected.] [Initiating Forced Extraction...]

THRUSSH!

A thick, pitch-black shadow spear shot from Renan’s palm, driving straight through Kael’s spinal column.

Kael’s body arched violently, a long, agonizing shriek tearing from his throat as his S-Rank sword skills, his physical stats, and his living mana were forcibly torn from his body. His skin withered into a pale, papery grey in seconds, his hair turning white before his entire physical form collapsed into a pile of fine ash that blew away in the stormy wind.

DING! DING! DING!

[Forced Extraction Successful!] [Target: S-Rank Hunter (Kael) Extracted.] [Attributes Extracted!] [Strength +240] [Agility +210] [Skill Acquired: Active - Heavenly Mountain Splitter (Rank-S)]

Renan flexed his fingers. The sharp, refined sensation of Kael’s legendary swordsmanship fused instantly into his nervous system. He didn’t even need a physical blade anymore; his fingers could now cut through adamantine with raw kinetic force.

Down in the plaza below, Director Vance and Director Helen backed away in utter horror.

Their top combat specialist—a man who had cleared over thirty Class-S dungeons—had been reduced to ash in under two minutes.

"R-Retreat!" Director Vance shrieked, his white hair messy, his battle-mage robe soaked in rain and sweat. "All units, fall back! Fall back to Sector 1! We need the National Military’s heavy artillery!"

"Retreat?" Renan’s voice rang out from the high roof above them, quiet yet echoing with an unnatural, suffocating volume that made the surrounding concrete walls vibrate. "Who gave you permission to leave?"

Renan raised both hands toward the stormy sky.

[Skill Activated: Shadow Puppet Creation (Rank-S)] [Synergizing Extracted Corpses...]

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

From the shadow-wrapped bodies of the forty highest-ranking elite guards lying unconscious and dying across the plaza, forty massive pillars of pitch-black smoke rose into the air.

The smoke condensed rapidly, forging forty towering Shadow Knights clad in midnight-black plate armor with glowing crimson visors. They held sleek, shadowy broadswords and tower shields, falling onto one knee in perfect, terrifying formation before Renan.

DING!

[Shadow Puppet Army Updated: 50 / 50 (Maximum Capacity Reached!)] [Army Composition:]

10 Rank-A Shadow Night Stalkers

38 Rank-A Shadow Vanguards

2 Rank-S Shadow Commanders (Vance’s Shadow & Boros’s Shadow)

The forty new Shadow Knights stood up in unison. The sheer physical pressure radiating from fifty Rank-A and Rank-S shadow soldiers caused the surrounding asphalt to crater and crack.

Director Helen dropped her enchanted staff onto the wet pavement, her legs giving out completely as she fell to her knees in the mud. "Fifty... fifty S-Rank and A-Rank shadow soldiers... He has a private army..."

Renan dropped silently from the thirty-yard-high roof, landing gracefully in the center of the plaza between Director Vance and Director Helen. He didn’t use a defensive skill. The rain parted around his body, deflected by the passive physical weight of his [1,740 Strength] and [1,980 Mana].

He walked toward Director Vance, his boots clicking rhythmically against the wet stone.

Vance backed away until his shoulders hit the side of his burning command vehicle. He held up a glowing magical talisman, his hands shaking violently. "Stay... stay back! I am a Director of the National Hunter Association! If you kill me—"

Renan didn’t wait for him to finish. He reached out his bare hand, grabbing Vance’s neck with an iron grip that instantly crushed his vocal cords.

GRAB!

Vance choked, his feet dangling off the ground as his magical talisman clattered uselessly into a puddle.

"I am not going to kill you, Vance," Renan whispered into the director’s ear, his cold purple eyes gleaming through the dark fog. "I need someone to deliver a message to Guild Master Richard and the President of the Association."

Renan tightened his grip slightly, driving a tiny jolt of [Corrosive Aura] straight into Vance’s mana core.

CRACK-LE!

Vance let out a muffled shriek as his S-Rank mana core shattered internally. He wasn’t dead, but his ability to ever use magic or fight again as an S-Rank Hunter was permanently erased. He was now nothing more than an ordinary, crippled civilian.

Renan tossed Vance like a bag of trash onto the wet pavement next to the trembling Director Helen.

"Tell Richard that his bank is empty, his top captains are ash, and his army belongs to me," Renan said, his voice cold, absolute, and echoing through the rainy night. "Tell him to prepare his main headquarters in Sector 1. In three days, the Ominous Faction will wipe Apex Guild off the map."

Renan turned his back on the two defeated directors, raising his hand into the air.

"Shadows, retreat," Renan commanded.

SWOOSH!

All fifty Shadow Knights dissolved into streams of pitch-black smoke, swirling backward into Renan’s shadow.

The pitch-black dome over Sector 2 slowly evaporated, allowing the pale moonlight and neon city lights to filter back down onto the destroyed plaza.

Renan took a single step forward, activating [Phantom Blitz]. His body melted into the shadows of the alleyway, vanishing into the night without leaving a single trace.

Left behind was a destroyed financial district, forty million credits worth of ruined military hardware, two crippled Association Directors, and an entire nation that would wake up tomorrow to the horrifying news:

The F-Rank porter was no longer hiding in the shadows—he was coming for the crown.

In the VIP ICU room of Sector 1 General Hospital, Guild Master Richard stood up from his bed, staring in absolute terror at his holographic news feed as the anchor announced the total destruction of Sector 2—while a dark, crimson system notification suddenly appeared on Richard’s personal phone:

"You have 72 hours remaining."