Chapter 181

What is a divine oracle? It is something even the gods may have forgotten, yet devout believers still risk everything, risking their lives to fulfill it.

"Eat the seedlings! Kill them! Hemoelthos." Ouk spoke slowly, each word deliberate, then suddenly scratched his head, embarrassed: "Uh, excuse me, are you Hemoelthos?"

The thought in the darkness was utterly helpless; it let out a soft "hmm." You don't even know who I am, and you come to kill me? Who the hell are you, to be so bold?

With a thought, a faint human shape emerged from the darkness, silently creeping toward Ouk.

"Oh, that's great, Bone Priest—I found it!" As Ouk spoke, a summoning portal opened behind him, and the Bone Priest, carrying a broom, hopped out.

A broom? A skeleton? When did I ever provoke a sweeping skeleton? Hemoelthos's mind was utterly bewildered.

The human shape had crept close to Ouk; its form flickered in and out, possessing strong stealth abilities, and with the pitch-black cave, ordinary people could hardly perceive its presence.

But just as it prepared to strike, it realized Ouk and the newly arrived bone frame were both turning their faces toward it.

Huh? Found? The human shape subtly shifted sideways, only to find the enemies' gaze following its movement.

Clearly detected, the human shape abandoned concealment and revealed itself fully.

It was a humanoid insect, its arms curved like twin saw blades, resembling a mantis; its limbs were triple-jointed with backward curves. Once revealed, its hind legs pushed off, shooting toward Ouk like lightning.

The Bone Priest moved his hands slightly; the broom in his grip swung horizontally, its bristles instantly transforming into a blade, blocking the path of the humanoid mantis.

The humanoid mantis couldn't dodge in time—it slammed into the blade and split in two, dead.

Pup-pup-pup, pup-pup-pup—through the darkness came a series of popping sounds like exploding fish eggs; countless beetles and insects erupted, surging forward like dark clouds and tidal waves.

Ouk showed no fear, shouting loudly: "My Lord Ang, grant me divine power! Wherever there is light, none may harm me!"

As he spoke, his entire body ignited, forming a solid barrier of light.

Ang felt his power flooding onto Ouk at an unprecedented speed—only his own rapid recovery could keep up; otherwise, he'd have been drained dry.

With power continuously piling up, the light barrier around Ouk grew denser and more solid.

Soon he shouted again: "My Lord Ang, grant me divine power! Wherever my eyes see, it shall burn!"

Instantly, where Ouk focused his gaze, things hissed and ignited—though the burning area was small, only one centimeter in diameter, every insect it touched burst with a sizzle.

"Damn, Ouk's the most devout believer—I just defined two divine arts: Light Barrier and Burning Gaze, and even summoned the Bone Priest? This guy's a genius."

Projected into Ang's soul, observing the battle through Ang's eyes, Negril couldn't help muttering, his tone brimming with envy.

"Summoning—even cross-dimensional summoning—this is incredible. Look at those knight novels, where summoning pets or skeletons seems so easy; but here, it involves cross-dimensional spatial transformation, an extremely difficult feat."

"If stored in a spatial artifact, most such artifacts can't hold living things. Unlike the Palace of Rest, this guy can perform cross-dimensional summoning? Where does the energy to establish the summoning channel come from?"

Ang replied: "Mine."

"..." This was precisely what left Negril speechless—power was drawn from Ang, yet achieved things Ang himself couldn't, and once Ouk performed them, Ang naturally learned them.

Divine arts defined by believers are inherently mastered by the god—meaning, Ang now possessed the Light Barrier and Burning Gaze that Ouk had just used.

What did this mean? It meant believers borrowed your money to run a business, yet all profits went to you. How utterly unreasonable.

"Why can't I ever find a fanatic? I finally trained one believer, and now he's about to be lured away by your Lisa. With that kind of zeal, you'll soon have to ignite another divine flame called 'Beauty'—Immortal Goddess of Beauty? Damn it."

As Negril grumbled, the Bone Priest moved, charging into the tide of insects, arching his back and opening his jaw: "Ahh—ahh—ahh—!"

Have you ever witnessed a rhythmic soul surge? Now you are—this soul surge was modulated by the Bone Priest with rising and falling cadence, a succession of soul chants that swept across sky and earth; insects fell in waves, then fell again.

"Sss, look at that—now that's skill! The soul surge is precisely calibrated to damage the insects without overkill, prolonging its effect and maximizing casualties. Looks like this silver skeleton isn't just good at sweeping."

Insects kept falling, the Bone Priest stomped hard on the ground and slid backward.

The dead insects rose again, moving stiffly to bite the living ones.

"Soul Surge, Royal Arrival—so this is how you deal with insects? Brilliant!" Negril exclaimed.

The Bone Priest wasn't particularly intelligent—you could feel that when speaking with him—but as a thousand-year-old silver skeleton priest, his intellect couldn't be low. Clearly, his expertise lay elsewhere—combat, perhaps.

The overwhelming tide of insects, under the Bone Priest's Soul Surge, Royal Arrival, and Ouk's Burning Gaze, failed to advance for a long time.

Hemoelthos grew anxious; the entire space hissed, spreading ripples outward. The insects went mad, accelerating wildly, trampling their own kind—even if one blocked their path, they'd bite through without hesitation.

In this reckless frenzy, the insect tide surged to within ten meters of Ouk, about to drown him.

If drowned by insects, Ouk would die. Though protected by Ang, he was still an ordinary human—the light barrier couldn't last forever.

Ouk showed no fear, shouting: "My Lord Ang, grant me divine power! I offer everything—bring yourself to me!"

As soon as he spoke, flames of life erupted across his body.

"Damn it, sacrifice? What kind of crazy believer are you? He's throwing his life away! Even if he wins, he's dead." Negril spoke, half-envious, half-disgusted, utterly baffled.

Ang had no time to care—he felt, the instant Ouk's life flames ignited, a seamless energy channel open between them.

Watching his fanatic being drowned by the insect tide, Ang wasn't worried? He was—so worried he wanted to rush through—but the connection between him and Ouk was like a small pipe, continuously flowing, yet with only a trickle of water.

Now, through sacrifice, the small pipe snapped—transformed into a high-speed highway—and Ang's full power surged through.

Ouk screamed; his body couldn't withstand the immense power, feeling as if it would split apart.

But the next instant, the Cleansing Light enveloped him, healing his wounds.

Then he stomped hard, spreading the Instant Death Aura, while his skin peeled back into overlapping dragon scales, his body rapidly swelling into a three-meter-tall dragon-human, propelled forward involuntarily.

First second: transformation complete. Second second: he plunged into the insect horde, like a high-speed object crashing through—bug juice splattered everywhere. Third second: he lunged at the biological mass and punched it.

The biological mass exploded—a ripple erupted from his punch point, then burst outward with a series of booms.

Yet he tilted his head, as if listening intently, while his dragon scales shifted—green, red, yellow—representing Time Dragon, Space Dragon, Prophet Dragon.

Until they stabilized in brass color, he leapt violently, claws raking at empty air.

At the instant his claws struck, a shadow appeared there—his claws sliced into the shadow's body, gripped tightly, and tore out its heart.

Thus, at the fifth second, before he landed, his head lolled forward—he lost consciousness, his body rapidly reverting from dragon-god to human.

Ang could endure fifteen seconds unharmed, but Ouk, having sacrificed his life, could only withstand five.

Though unconscious, his hand still clutched the heart tightly; he fell straight forward, his dragon-god body's momentum now impacting with his human form—Ouk would surely have his brains splattered.

Fortunately, at the moment of impact, a hand suddenly appeared, grabbed him, and yanked him backward, pulling him away.

The entire insect tide instantly lost all momentum, falling like rain to the ground.

The Bone Priest stared blankly at the insects on the ground, then at the spot where Ouk had vanished. He stood frozen for a long while, then suddenly remembered something—switched his blade back into a broom, and began sweeping.

In the empty cavern, the swish-swish-swish echoed, just as it had for a thousand silent years in the Necropolis.

…

Using the Interdimensional Hand, Ang forcibly dragged Ouk back, then collapsed onto the ground, his soul overwhelmed by intense fatigue.

Sending power over wasn't tiring; triggering Ouk's dragon-god transformation wasn't tiring—but the Interdimensional Hand had pierced through a location outside the Palace of Rest for the first time, nearly killing Ang.

Seeing Ang, Ouk excitedly raised the heart in his hand: "Lord Ang, I've fulfilled your command!" He didn't notice his body, like a little angel after releasing Holy Radiance, was slowly turning to ash.

Ouk wasn't a little angel—his ashing was irreversible; even his soul would burn away. This was the price of his life sacrifice.

"This foolish child…" Negril looked at him, heartbroken and helpless, unsure what to do. As the God of Knowledge, the more he knew, the clearer it became—this was beyond salvation. Life sacrifice was something even the Light gods could not reverse.

Ang took the heart, nodded at Ouk: "Good."

He casually shoved it back into the Palace of Rest, then pulled out a large barrel filled with refined insect-ash fluid.

Ang immediately submerged Ouk in the ash fluid, protecting his soul, immersing his entire body.

The red glow of the Left Hand's Spot Removal Spell continuously bathed the fluid, purifying its impurities.

Water was also an impurity; as water decreased, the concentration of refined insect-ash fluid rose. Throughout this process, Ang kept pulling out more refined insect-ash fluid and pouring it into the barrel.

Roughly three barrels condensed into one—the concentration tripled.

Left hand: purification. Right hand: never idle—Cleansing Light, Rebirth Spell, alternating. Eventually, he found Rebirth Spell worked better—so he used only Rebirth Spell.

Watching Ang's actions, Negril shook his head: "Useless. Life sacrifice is a process of burning and releasing one's entire life span in an instant—a process even gods cannot reverse, because the life has already been consumed."

"If life could be reversed, the World Tree wouldn't have only nine thousand years left. The World Tree was still the God of Life—and even it couldn't reverse this process. Don't waste your effort—hey?" Before he finished, the situation in the barrel stunned Negril—Ouk's ashing had stopped?

The onlookers silently accepted the divine miracle: Ouk, who had been turning to ash, had abruptly halted the process. Now, half his body was already ashed—bones and organs exposed.

Yet he didn't die. He just stared blankly at Ang, as if realizing something: The Lord is saving me?

The entire process lasted a full day and night. During that time, Ang added six more barrels of insect-ash fluid—Negril winced at the cost.

In the past, this insect-ash fluid was only good for fertilizer or reviving stone eggs—used, then forgotten. No big deal.

But now, after purification, it could reverse life—its value was entirely different. This was a treasure even gods would covet.

"Oh no, didn't you just kill Hemoelthos? Now there'll be no more insects? That means we use up one drop, and it's gone forever? No, no—I'll seal all the barrels tight, so none evaporates. If I'd had this back then, I wouldn't have died at ten thousand and two."

With ashing halted, what remained was healing. Ouk, reduced to bones and partial organs, was transferred into sacred essence fluid—and every part of him was painstakingly regrown.

But the new Ouk was different: a face of a teenage boy, yet his muscles were sharply defined. A soul scan revealed his bone density exceeded even Lu Se's, a high-tier sword saint.

"Whoever looks at your face and thinks you're easy to beat—then punches you… your body was clearly forged to withstand divine power," Negril said.

It was normal. Many divine practitioners wore loose robes precisely because their bodies were too muscular—ripping a robe revealed full muscle tone. Only a strong body could bear greater power.

Ouk scratched his head, dumbly, then devoutly knelt before Ang and bowed: "Thank you, Lord, for granting me rebirth."

Ang nodded, then said to Negril: "I'm going to sleep." He found a shady spot, dug a hole, and buried himself.

Negril glanced at Ang with concern—sleeping? That must've been a massive drain. Will he be alright?