Chapter 150

The undead necropolis of the Abyss of Rest, the Temple of the Undead.

Before the undead flame, Oak knelt devoutly, forehead pressed to the ground, hands outstretched palms upward, murmuring prayers.

The undead flame surged a meter high as if blown by a bellows, resembling a large hearth.

The Temple of the Undead had been utterly transformed—pillars, arches, railings, floor tiles—all original elements of the temple now gleamed anew.

They were all types that repaired themselves automatically when energized; when the undead flame absorbed enough soul-flame, excess fragments of energy sufficed to repair the temple.

Each time Oak prayed, the Silver Skeleton silently stepped to his side; faith-essence surged between it, Oak, and the undead flame, forming the simplest network structure—the Soul Network—ultimately transmitting to the distant Ang.

Every node in this process benefited: the Silver Skeleton's porous bones had been repaired by the Resting Liquid, and its bones now shifted from silver toward gold; in certain mottled areas, viewed from another angle, a golden sheen could be seen.

The Silver Skeleton was transforming into a Golden Skeleton.

Oak's changes were not obvious, but when he straightened his back, one could see the firm muscles and broad shoulders—he was only in his teens, still a minor, yet his foundation was already excellent.

Divine magic is the easiest power to obtain in the world, yet also the hardest. It is easy because one who gains the god's favor and grace can swiftly become a powerful divine mage.

Yet it is also the most dependent on talent, will, and belief.

Some pray and worship their entire lives yet remain mere followers, not even true believers; others, as children, receive divine grace, summoning holy spirits to possess them—like Lisa, the Holy Maiden.

With divine grace alone, one can transform from an ordinary person into the god's mouthpiece, the god's messenger, the god's vessel in just one or two years.

Since the day Oak began worshipping Ang, he was a fanatic even Nygiris envied; now, nearly two years later, he remains that same fanatic, yet he has gained deeper insight into the god's will.

He was luckier than Lisa; when Lisa became a Holy Maiden, the god's will demanded she love all mortals, spread glory, collect taxes, sacrifice, exterminate heretics, purify heresies… the list could fill two or three pages.

What Oak perceived of the god's will consisted of only two things: grow things, eat.

Thus, adhering to the god's will, Oak diligently planted holy mushrooms within the temple's expanded range, and provided corresponding grain to believers who offered soul-flame.

With the activation of the World Transit Station, more and more underground city residents relocated to the station; unsurprisingly, those who left donated their homes to the temple.

Yet Ang's principle of equivalent exchange had deeply penetrated Oak's mind—he insisted on giving equivalent grain in return, typically just a few sacks, since houses near the temple held little value.

With expanded territory came expanded cultivation zones; besides praying, Oak's other duty was purifying holy water; as his mastery over divine power grew, the purified holy water not only sufficed for the expanding cultivation zones but also had surplus to provide to believers.

Now, people had grown accustomed to visiting the temple for abdominal pain, diarrhea, bruises, emotional unrest, dizziness, or even weddings and funerals.

Of course, weddings and funerals were not Oak's concern; Lisa had thoroughly reformed the surviving female priest from the two sent by Lu Se.

No one knew how she did it, but now that holy priestess was utterly loyal to the Temple of the Undead and handled daily affairs with ease—far more efficiently than Oak.

The female priestess was willing to handle everything, except managing undead creatures, because among the skeletons and zombies was one clad in priestly robes, its skin toughened, shriveled, and hideous—the corpse of her former companion.

Perhaps this was also one reason for her unwavering loyalty to the temple.

Oak slowly rose, his soul energy no longer contained, bursting outward as flame that engulfed him like a figure of fire; after a long while, the soul flame finally subsided.

The Silver Skeleton… perhaps it should no longer be called the Silver Skeleton, for it was transforming into a Golden Skeleton, yet Oak had always called it by another name—Bone Priest.

The Silver Skeleton turned silently and walked away; soon, the empty temple echoed again with the swish of a broom.

"Bone Priest is truly steadfast—they say he has swept for over a thousand years, possessing a will stronger than black crystal; I must learn from him," Oak mused: "They say Ang himself also persisted in gardening for a thousand years, eventually becoming the Undead God."

If Nygiris heard him, he'd likely want to pour water into his head to wash out his nonsense—Ang did not become a god because he gardened for a thousand years; he acquired the Undead Godhead by picking up the bones of the Goddess of Luck.

At that moment, Oak suddenly felt a pang in his heart; a solemn voice echoed within him: "Eat the seedlings? Kill them! Hemoelthos."

"This… is this a divine oracle? Who is Hemoelthos?" Oak's body erupted in blazing soul flame; he murmured in surprise.

As he murmured, a rift suddenly opened behind him; the Silver Skeleton emerged, broom on shoulder, tilting its head in confusion, glancing at Oak, then at the summoning channel fading behind it.

"You… summon… me?" The Silver Skeleton spoke—rarely, for the first time.

Oak was equally confused: "Y-yes… it seems so."

In Hope Oasis, Lisa was using the Purifying Beauty Spell to soften Shafia's skin when she suddenly tilted her head, murmuring: "Kill? Who is Hemoelthos?"

Soon after, Purple Bone stormed in, club over shoulder, dragging lightning, and roared in thunderous voice: "Lisa, who is Hemoelthos? I'll crush him right now!"

Thousands of miles away, Silver Coin strained to carry a chest of gold coins into the vault, stacking it atop a row of gold coin chests, grumbling: "Too heavy—should've swapped for mana crystals."

Ang's voice flashed through his soul, reviving his spirit; he leapt up and ran out.

Along the way, all architecture bore the style of the Church of Light—this was clearly a church city, guarded both inside and out by the Church's power; yet Silver Coin, a lich, strode boldly among priests, clerics, and holy knights; those who recognized him even bowed respectfully, for he was a favorite of the Archbishop.

He passed unimpeded to find Anthony, urgently asking: "Did you hear it? The divine oracle—Ang has issued his first ever! Who is Hemoelthos?"

Anthony frowned: "I heard it. Hemoelthos… is a troublesome fellow."