Just call me Thor

Beside the black coffin, a withered hand clung tightly, leaving half a handprint.

Sword scars on the coffin lid once again emitted sword energy but failed to subdue it.

The man in black, disregarding his fear, rushed to the front.

"Get out!"

Calderon Sunsworn's low growl from within the coffin sent the man in black flying backward, crashing to the ground.

The coffin shook violently, the gap widening, on the verge of breaking free.

"Go get Mor..."

Before Calderon Sunsworn could finish, a sigh interrupted him.

"Sigh."

It was the voice of an ordinary middle-aged man, "Why do you torment yourself so?"

A figure appeared beside the black coffin, ignoring the terrifying pressure, standing there quietly.

Even a Battle Lord couldn't easily approach the coffin!

Yet he moved freely.

The figure's true identity was self-evident.

Supreme Being, Morpheus.

Morpheus stood by the coffin, casually saying, "Sleep."

In an instant, the world fell silent.

The coffin stopped shaking, the gap slowly closed, and the withered hand retracted, leaving only an incomplete handprint.

Even faint snores emanated from the coffin.

The man in black struggled to his feet, expressing utmost respect to Morpheus's back.

"Thank you, Lord Morpheus, for your intervention."

Morpheus's figure grew more ethereal as he continued,

"In two days' battle, let him continue to rest. He need not participate."

"Yes!"

"After the battle, Gregory will go to the Abyssal Plane, and Shadow Nine will accompany him."

Morpheus's words made the man in black's eyelids twitch.

Professor Gregory going to the Abyssal Plane?

And Master Shadow Nine too?!

Any mishap with either would be an unbearable loss for humanity!

The key point was...

If Master Shadow Nine went, didn't that mean... Thor would go too?!

Why was Morpheus telling him this?

The man in black asked respectfully, "Please enlighten me, Lord Morpheus."

"After they depart, move this coffin to the Forest of Truth."

Sweat beaded on the man's forehead. Had humanity's situation become this dire?

The ancestor in the black coffin, half-mad and half-sane, had the real combat power to match an Ultimate Battle Lord, but in actual combat, it was unpredictable.

Moreover, fighting freely would only worsen Calderon Sunsworn's injuries, pushing him toward destruction.

The black coffin wouldn't be moved unless absolutely necessary!

Finally, the man in black gritted his teeth and complied,

"....As you command!"

When he looked up again, it was as if he had awoken from a dream. Morpheus's figure was gone.

Only the snores from the black coffin remained.

Calderon Sunsworn, in his dream, mumbled intermittently.

"Gregory, for the last time, I can defeat a Battle Chief-level demon creature! Last time I almost got killed, that was purely an accident..."

"...The boy's name is Sam Stoneheart, and the girl's name is Ava Stoneheart? Those names are terrible. Listen to me, the boy should be Maxen Stoneheart, and the girl Isabella Stoneheart. Much better!"

"Alexander, you think you're so great? Don't stop me, today I want you to see, who the real first Battle Lord of humanity is!"

"Damn, it really hurts. That bastard stone, doesn't know how to hold back. Do we need to go all out in a sparring match?"

"...."

The man standing by the black coffin listened to these dream mutterings, smiled wryly, and shook his head.

All that is past.

...

The doors of Mistveil Castle opened.

On either side of the worn red carpet stood two groups.

On one side, led by Dorian, were the werewolves, numerous and imposing, holding the upper hand.

On the other side, Count Vladimir stood with a few vampires, his expression cold.

Though outnumbered, Vladimir's strength was the greatest, keeping the werewolves from acting rashly.

"Everyone's here, have you eaten?"

Mike's appearance immediately ended the boring standoff.

Dorian placed his right fist on his chest and knelt on one knee with the werewolves, "My lord, the werewolf clan will never forget your kindness!"

Vladimir glanced at them coldly. These wolf pups really knew how to flatter.

They had no sense of 'dignity.'

Vladimir stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly,

"Master Thor, your loyal servant Vladimir almost lost his way in the darkness without your guidance. Your reappearance has brought new light to this hopeless world...."

As he spoke, Vladimir began to choke up, even shedding tears and snot.

"Stop it, you're disgusting. I just ate, and you're making me want to vomit."

Mike waved his hand,

"I know what you're thinking, so stop pretending."

Vladimir forced a smile, "You jest, I am always your most loyal servant."

"Enough talk, stand up and let me see."

Mike scanned the room.

24 werewolves, 7 vampires.

Most werewolves and vampires were under level 200, considered minors in their species.

Only Dorian (Lv.246) and Vladimir (Lv.299) were barely noteworthy.

After a private chat with Dorian, Mike learned that they had signed a soul contract with him.

They had no choice but to follow Mike.

"Alright, take your men and leave the castle. See if there's any help needed at the mine."

These people followed Mike, and he was responsible for their food and lodging, even investing resources to help them grow stronger.

Likewise, they had to contribute.

Mining was dirty and tiring but not dangerous. Werewolves, with their immense strength, were highly efficient miners.

Dorian nodded and led his werewolf companions away.

"As for you lot...."

Mike turned to the scattered vampires,

"Besides sucking blood, what else can you do?"

A young vampire proudly said,

"Tasting wine, applying makeup, attending banquets...."

"Idiot."

Vladimir slapped the young vampire, knocking out his teeth and sending him crashing to the ground.

"The master is asking about our value."

Vladimir quickly adapted, speaking like a butler,

"Master, we can fight, gather intelligence, brew wine, and inscribe equipment runes..."

Vladimir listed many things, but few were useful.

Whether in combat or intelligence gathering, Mike didn't need a bunch of vampires weaker than Battle Generals.

Maybe Vladimir himself had some potential, but the others... were questionable.

"Master, we are fearless warriors, or rather, truly immortal."

Vladimir's eyes glowed red. He knew the most valuable information should be introduced last,

"As long as this Castle stands, we can revive with just a little essence blood!"

"Now that's interesting."

Mike nodded. An army of infinitely revivable vampire warriors sounded promising.

Clearly, Mistveil Castle was special, with more functions waiting for Mike to explore.

However, Mike had a bold idea to test.

"Now, I want to conduct an experiment."

Mike had everyone else leave, keeping Count Vladimir alone.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

Vladimir's eyes filled with fear as he backed away.

"What experiment? Don't do anything rash...."

"Obey!"

Mike's low growl intimidated Vladimir. He then said, "Maybe, you are a pig."

Stepping back, Mike held up a camera, carefully observing Vladimir, not missing any details.

In front of the camera, the elegant and noble Count Vladimir performed a spectacular magic trick.

Mike named it: The Great Pig Transformation.

Pig Vladimir: "Oink oink!"

[Turn me back!]

As expected!

Supreme Being Apollo's words had a lasting impact on Vladimir!

And "you are a pig" was the trigger for everything.

Mike couldn't help but take a deep breath, deciding never to meet Apollo lightly!

With the experiment successful, Mike awkwardly said, "Sorry, I only figured out the transformation spell, not how to reverse it."

He raised the Thunderclap Hammer, tentatively asking, "How about I kill you again? Didn't you say you could revive as long as Mistveil Castle stands? Let's agree that the revival cost comes out of your salary...."