Chapter 14

A emaciated female minotaur was scraping off moss; she had three children, each a bottomless pit, easily draining her dry. Fortunately, they were minotaurs—they could eat grass, so even when poor, they wouldn’t starve.

But this world had no grass at all, and the moss smelled of rot; if she had any other choice, the minotaur woman would never eat it—her whole family had grown pale and gaunt from it, and if any of them accidentally developed a hernia, it would be a disaster.

So when someone dropped a sack of grain before her and asked if she believed in “Undying,” the minotaur woman collapsed to her knees, clutching the sack tightly, exclaiming in excitement: “I believe, I believe, I’ll do any pose for Undying!”

Any pose? Then kneel.

They brought the minotaur woman before the altar: “Faithful belief, King, I grant you grain.”

Thud, thud, thud—the minotaur woman banged her head so hard the stones before the altar loosened, and the undead flames surged violently upward; those long starved were more devout before food than any true believer.

When she reached the fifteenth bow, a wisp of azure flame drifted from the minotaur woman and merged into the undead flames.

As the azure flame entered the undead flames, Ange felt a strange sensation—he sensed that in that instant, the minotaur woman, the undead flames, himself, and the little zombie had formed a network. Was this the Soul Network?

“Yes, the Soul Network! You’re cheating—you’re buying loyalty!” Nagelis, now in lizard form, grumbled indignantly. He had been waiting for news and never left; the rule of “one question per day” had long been tossed aside.

Ange pointed at the minotaur woman and said simply: “Faithful.”

Isn’t faithful belief enough?

Nagelis choked on his own breath. True, when spreading faith, small favors could multiply results—even he, as a god of knowledge, had once distributed badges like “First, Second, Third Prize in Knowledge Competitions.”

But Ange dropping a whole sack of grain? That went far beyond small favors—even if it bought loyalty temporarily…

Then Nagelis suddenly realized: Ange only needed temporary loyalty. He had no concept of spreading faith, no intention of doing so.

He was merely following Nagelis’s advice to test something he couldn’t confirm before.

And hadn’t he just confirmed it?

“Fine, you’re right—the Soul Network has indeed transferred to you. But you’re not a monarch, you have no divine essence—how did you steal the Soul Network?” Nagelis was utterly baffled.

Ange didn’t bother thinking about what Nagelis couldn’t understand. He handed the grain to the minotaur woman and turned to leave.

“Hey, hey, hey, are you just leaving like that? No consolidation? No expansion? Isn’t that a waste?” Nagelis protested. The undead flames had ignited, the Soul Network had been inherited, and he’d successfully won a devoted follower—just walk away?

Too bad he was sealed away; otherwise, with Ange’s conditions, Nagelis would gladly reshape another divine essence.

“Grain can’t be retrieved,” Ange said. He’d just received a soul crystal from Fielin, which allowed him to transfer five sacks of grain—he’d already used one, leaving four. Trying to expand with those was nearly impossible.

“With faith, how can you lack soul energy? More believers will ensure your soul crystals never run out,” Nagelis tempted. He simply couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

“Never run out?” Ange tilted his head. “How many soul crystals for the Copper Book?”

Ange meant: how many soul crystals to transfer the Copper Book out?

This stunned Nagelis: “You’re setting your sights on me? When you possess power equal to mine, you might manage it.”

The Copper Book was the artifact that sealed Nagelis; controlling it meant controlling the knowledge god’s power. Those who could control a god were called Godbinders.

Could this wooden, dull fool really harbor such ambition?

But soon he realized: Ange was just using him as a reference point. “How many soul crystals is your power worth?”

“...”

Under the temptation of “as many soul crystals as you want,” Ange agreed to Nagelis’s proposal and continued recruiting followers.

The method was simple: find the minotaur woman and repeat Nagelis’s words: “The Undying King perceives disaster and has sent me to save you. Those who believe in Undying shall be fed. Tell your children, husband, and kin: the faithful shall be fed.”

Good heavens—Ange had given a whole sack of grain; Nagelis had cut it down to just “feed them full.”

Then he added a special instruction to the minotaur woman: “Those who guide others may eat more.” Meaning: bring people, get extra rations.

These obscure phrases made the minotaur woman’s head spin, yet somehow they felt incredibly powerful.

Once she understood, her eyes sparkled, bulging like copper bells.

Her three children were all bottomless pits, always half-starved—now, believing in Undying meant full bellies?

Believe? Of course she believed. Disbelieve? She’d break their legs herself.

No need to break legs—the three little minotaurs, hearing they could eat their fill, turned their eyes red and sprinted over at ox-speed, banging their heads thud-thud-thud so hard the undead flames surged higher than the mother’s by a full margin.

Indeed, for half-grown boys, the belief in being fed was even more devout.

But Nagelis soon regretted it—he’d promised “full bellies,” but forgot they were minotaurs. One little minotaur ate over a sack of grain; the five sacks from one soul crystal—minus the mother’s one—were all devoured by the three children.

One soul crystal, five sacks of grain—bought four devoted gluttons. Whether it was a loss or profit? Probably profit: each minotaur offered at least one soul flame, equivalent to four soul crystals’ worth.

But extracting that energy into soul energy required a very complex process.

“You, undead flames, Qiu Ke, Soul Network—flow, yes, take the energy from the undead flames, direct it toward yourself. Come, try to strengthen your soul. Do you feel it? Do you feel it growing?”

“Are you even a skeleton? How are you so skilled? Did you practice this before? This is a complex process—even if you know how, it takes long practice to master. Why did you do it perfectly on the first try? Are you the skeleton of the Goddess of Luck?”

When Nagelis thought the process was complex, Ange completed it in one attempt—the energy from the undead flames was fully extracted.

“Wind, flow,” Ange pointed upward. This complex process was similar to how he’d reached out in the cavern and drawn the cold current from the Wind of Rest.

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