He could call these skeleton pallbearers out separately, but despite their lively movements with the coffin, as soon as they were 2 meters away from the coffin, they suddenly became as weak as a newborn chick. Even the tier F- Roel was able to fight them to a draw! One must know that Roel was a 9-year-old kid whose proficiency in magic paled in comparison to his fellow Magician Apprentices. Since each skeleton pallbearer was equivalent to Roel in terms of strength, it would mean that the total fighting prowess of the Skeleton Pallbearer Army was a pathetic 6 Roels! Or to put it in simpler terms, it was useless. While this world did operate by the adage that there was no useless occupation, there was still a significant disparity in the strengths of individuals. Based on the evaluation standards of the System, adult men without any exceptional skills were F-rank; magicians which had undergone formal militia training were E-rank; those who had managed to become knights or warriors were D-rank. These skeleton pallbearers were F- trash when they were 2 meters away from the coffin, and F+ when they were within 2 meters. This meant that even an E-rank militia could single-handedly obliterate them all! Roel had also taken a peek inside the coffin they were carrying, and it was empty. That being said, the coffin was made of rather good material. The summoned beings of the Commandment Cult’s Gravediggers. Born for death, they bring joy to the living. Recalling how these skeleton pallbearers danced along with the coffin, a look of realization appeared on Roel’s face. He finally understood what the description of the item meant. Commandment Cult, I’ll remember you! Just see if I’ll buy your stuff anymore! I’ll be a dog if I get anything else of yours! Roel swore with gritted teeth before taking a few deep breaths to cal
Click here to report chapter errors,After the report, the editor will correct the chapter content within two minutes, please be patient.