Huff, huff.
The furnace burned, the scorching heat from the welded furnace on the body turned red, and the high temperature caused the connected skin to emit a sizzling sound.
The stench of burnt flesh infiltrated the nostrils without any restraint.
On the Eastern Continent, across the boundless plains, the necromancer Soc held a bone whip as he inspected his undead laborers, the distant sounds of cursing causing him to frown.
He lightly tapped the colossal body's frame before him, the rotting corpse infused with energy from the burning Magic Furnace was forced to continue its movements.
"Move slower."
Soc was reluctant to shake the whip in his hand, each undead laborer was incredibly precious, especially the one he currently held—a mutant from the New Era, standing as tall as a one-story building, with muscles accumulating like inexhaustible soil, and exaggerated veins as thick as a thumb.
