Chapter 209: Your Favorite Spirit Beans

"Ah!" Julian screamed in terror, leaping backward and drawing his sword with a clang.

"Oof!" Ang also startled, leaping back and summoning his Death Scythe.

The bone horse's eyes instantly lit up: "Death's Scythe?! Is this a Golden Skeleton? Don't move, don't move, let me!"

No sooner had the bone horse spoken than it stomped the ground hard, its body erupting in roaring soul flames that rapidly armored its bones—within an instant, the gaunt, bony steed transformed into a towering, muscular, muscle-bursting soul warhorse.

This bone horse's soul armor was particularly clever: it took the exact shape of a living horse, lifelike and vivid; if not for its flaming eye sockets, one would hardly realize it was a dead horse.

Ang tilted his head, removed his hat and the tiny sapling from atop it, and his body erupted in roaring soul flames, swiftly forming soul armor shaped like a straw cloak and hat.

"Pfft." The bone horse snorted with laughter: "You're farming? This look?"

Ang nodded, honestly replying: "I farm. You're ridden."

He was, after all, a vegetable grower, and the bone horse was, after all, meant to be ridden—he stated a simple fact, but having spent too long among humans, the bone horse's context had shifted; in human terms, being ridden was no compliment, and it instantly grew furious.

"Damn it! Die! Wild Charge!" the bone horse roared, launching a soul impact as sharp horns sprouted from its skull and spines erupted from its knee joints, charging forward with full force.

It leaned its head forward, aiming straight for Ang's skull, while its front legs curled and thrust its spiked knees forward—if struck, there would be no doubt three large holes in the bones.

Soul impact plus Wild Charge was a highly effective combo, especially against a Golden Skeleton.

Human-shaped skeletons were naturally inferior to horse-shaped skeletons; the size difference was several-fold, and driving heavier horse bones required far stronger soul energy.

During a soul impact, the stronger the soul, the greater the advantage.

The bone horse had already condensed its soul heart, and its bones were in the process of transforming into Golden grade—given time, it would become a Golden Skeleton Horse.

Facing a Golden Skeleton, the bone horse held a natural advantage; no Golden Skeleton had ever withstood its charge.

The soul impact would first stun the opponent, then ram, trample, and consume them.

It sounded perfect—but what if the opponent didn't get stunned?

With its immense burst of speed, the bone horse's form nearly left afterimages as it lunged forward.

Ang sidestepped lightly, raised his scythe horizontally, letting the bone horse slam into the blade—once it passed, it landed, and its entire skeleton scattered across the ground.

Julian was stunned, unable to react for a long while—had his mount's soul been stripped? Or was this some new technique: disassemble first, then counterattack?

Julian's head was spinning—he'd been so excited moments ago telling Ang not to move, and now, in one round, it was in pieces? Was this a joke?

Ang retracted his scythe, and with his other hand, swept it across the blade, plucking off a vibrant soul flame.

The Golden-grade bone horse indeed possessed a powerful soul—but no soul, no matter how strong, could withstand the Death Scythe of the God of Undeath.

"Don't touch my horse!" Julian finally snapped back to reality, roaring.

Ang instantly felt some force acting upon him; he tilted his head, puzzled, looking down.

This was already his third head tilt—not to be cute, but out of confusion: why wasn't Negril speaking? Though Negril hadn't followed, it could soul-project onto him at any moment to answer his questions.

But nothing came. Without Negril's pointing and explaining, he couldn't understand these new things—the giant monster, or Julian's strange powers.

Several hands, formed from death aura, emerged from the ground, gripping Ang's calves tightly, while the entire ground melted like wax, dragging him downward.

What is this? The enemy was a paladin—why ride a bone horse and wield death energy?

Unfortunately, no one answered; he'd have to break free first.

He activated Ground Crack repeatedly, shattering the ground's power, causing the death-aura hands to crumble and disintegrate.

Julian's eyes widened: "Ground Crack? You shattered my Death Mire? Is that even possible?"

Of course it was possible—but it was too much effort. Like crossing a lake: just walk around. Why build a bridge?

"Wait—why can a Golden Skeleton use magic?" Julian reacted quickly, realizing his blind spot, then dropped into a crouch, thrusting his arms forward—his arm guards snapped open into a shield.

On the solid arm shield, another layer of holy light coalesced into a holy shield.

Julian braced his two-handed sword against the shield, stepped forward, and where his toe landed, two wraiths lunged out, shrieking as they split left and right to circle Ang.

Holy energy and death energy fused into one body—and they didn't conflict?

Julian's reaction wasn't slow—but he misjudged something. As he stepped forward to charge, a barrage of explosive fireballs swept toward him, instantly shattering the two wraiths and slamming into his shield.

Julian felt as if he were on the open sea facing a Category 18 hurricane—the continuous explosions generated immense shockwaves, nearly knocking him off his feet.

He felt like facing an entire mage battalion; Julian roared, his entire body blazing with raging aura, swinging his two-handed sword like a one-hander and slashing forward—a blade of energy cut through the air.

Boom boom boom boom! A string of explosive fireballs were shattered—but more followed in relentless succession.

Boom! The holy shield exploded. Fireballs slammed into Julian's solid arm shield, ringing out with loud clangs.

"Hah!" Julian roared again, his aura and holy power flaring together, surging into the shield as he pushed forward against the tide.

If the opponent were a mage, Julian's choice was undoubtedly correct—close the distance quickly. But the problem was, Ang wasn't a mage.

Julian charged through the line of explosive fireballs, reaching Ang's side, swinging his longsword—only to have it caught precisely by a scythe.

The angle between the scythe blade and handle locked onto the two-handed sword; Julian realized he couldn't pull it free.

He instantly abandoned the sword, stepped forward, and brought his palm down: "Divine Judgment!"

A pillar of holy flame erupted from where Ang stood; simultaneously, a black longblade materialized in Julian's palm, descending from above.

Holy flame—sacred fire. The black longblade—soul armor. This mismatched style made Ang deeply uncomfortable; he summoned holy light to wrap himself, letting the holy flame engulf him, crossed his arms to block the black blade, then kicked out.

Julian barely raised his arm shield in front of him—Ang's foot slammed into it, crushing the shield inward.

Julian lost his grip; his arm slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward.

But with his arm absorbing the impact, Julian didn't take full damage—he landed, stepped back ten times in quick succession, then slid backward a distance before stopping.

He looked up at Ang, his expression and tone filled with disbelief: "Holy light? Skeleton? Magic?"

Shadow Knights were already a mess—holy and death energy fused into one—but this one was even worse: a holy skeleton that used magic? Good heavens, just saying it sounded awkward—what kind of monster was this?

Clop clop clop—hooves came from behind. Negril and the little angel zombie rode up on Lightning, while Lu Se sprinted behind them on foot, nearly out of breath.

From afar, Negril spotted the extradimensional beast first, heart sinking; its tiny paw slapped Lightning hard: "Faster, faster, run faster! That's an extradimensional beast! Damn it, why is there one here?! Now I know why I can't project onto Ang—its tranquil extradimensional field has severed all space-based projection and teleportation!"

"It's an extradimensional beast, so what? Why hit me?" Lightning growled, lowering its head further, increasing its speed even more.

As they drew near and saw Ang unharmed, Negril sighed in relief: "Good, good, Ang is safe."

Lightning arrived behind Ang; everyone dismounted, surging to either side, glaring fiercely at the enemy—like a crowd ready to follow their leader's order to strike, their presence suddenly overwhelming.

"Ang, what's going on? Who is this guy?" Negril asked.

For a long while, there'd been no word from Ang—even its mental projection couldn't reach him; Negril had been frantic. Luckily, the little angel zombie, bound by soul-link to Ang, was fine—so Negril knew Ang was temporarily safe.

Who knew that upon arriving, it wouldn't just find an extradimensional beast, but also an enemy dressed in Church of Light attire?

Ang pointed at Julian: "Shadow Knight." Then pointed at the pile of bones: "Mount. Bone horse."

Then pointed at the extradimensional beast: "Windshield. Spatial passage. Virus zombie. Transport."

Negril instantly understood: "So these bones are a bone horse, this Shadow Knight's mount. They used the extradimensional beast's spatial passage to transport virus-infected zombies?"

Ang nodded.

"Perfect! The culprits are you! You've been poisoning people so deceptively! Cut him down! Sever the source of the plague!" Negril roared—but most of its attention remained fixed on the extradimensional beast. After shouting, it whispered urgently to Ang: "Did you use your Ultimate Transformation?"

Ang shook his head, staring at the extradimensional beast: "Big cat."

Negril immediately relaxed—the vegetable-growing skeleton hadn't been reckless; he'd held back. It had feared he'd act like the little angel and unleash holy light right away, wasting his ultimate move.

The moment this thought arose, a beam of light flashed, striking Julian ahead.

The little angel maintained its arms pushed outward, then let out a loud hiccup, finished, and turned to Ang with a beaming, expectant face, begging for praise.

Ang reached out and patted its head.

Negril sighed. As long as Ang indulged it, the little angel's habit would never change.

Negril reluctantly turned to Julian—the Shadow Knight hadn't been erased, but he was in terrible shape: nearly all his front-body flesh had vanished, leaving only a skeleton standing there; the back still retained some flesh, but it was riddled with holes.

Negril had heard of Shadow Knights—mysterious knights who claimed to be shadows beneath holy light. They could wield holy energy and heretical powers, such as those of demons and undead.

Heretical powers didn't conflict with their holy energy; instead, they complemented each other—strange indeed.

But Negril's knowledge of Shadow Knights ended there; its knowledge came from believers, and if believers didn't know, Negril couldn't add it to its database.

To retain a skeleton after holy light had struck was already impressive—let's help him gather his bones.

The moment this thought flashed, the skeleton-only Shadow Knight moved. It straightened its body, emitting a "Huh… huh… huh…" sound—perhaps reciting a spell or prayer—but its body was destroyed, so it could only produce dry throat vibrations.

But this didn't hinder its spellcasting: its ruined body rapidly regenerated, the torn flesh on its back growing swiftly, piercing through the bones, filling the empty front spaces.

In moments, the deformed Shadow Knight had forcibly regrown into human form.

Before the flesh fully sealed, Negril noticed: the Shadow Knight's chest cavity was hollow—no heart had grown back.

"Impossible? A lich's phylactery resurrection? No—different. Liches resurrect new bodies; this is restoring the original body. But his heart is gone. Without finding his phylactery, killing him will be difficult." Negril said.

Ang raised both hands, preparing to blast him into dust—lich resurrection wasn't infinite; otherwise, Phelin and Lan would be invincible.

But before Ang could raise his hands, Julian turned and fled, sprinting toward the extradimensional beast, shouting with his newly regrown lungs: "Extradimensional beast! Kill them! These are your favorite spirit beans!"

Julian flipped his hand, producing a small bag from nowhere and hurled it hard at the extradimensional beast.

In a flash, everyone felt as if they'd blinked—the giant furry mass extended a massive claw, snatching the bag midair.

Ang tilted his head. Negril wrinkled its scale-brow. Both simultaneously felt the claw was disturbingly familiar.

The giant claw delicately lifted the bag, upending its contents: inside were six or seven spirit beans, each the size of a human fingertip.

Compared to the extradimensional beast's massive size, the spirit beans were like dust—but the beast's eyes happily narrowed, its claw extending a single toe to touch near the beans—every single bean vanished instantly.

Having accepted the spirit beans, the extradimensional beast, which had previously ignored everyone, turned its gaze toward Ang and the others. Its round eyes narrowed dangerously, pupils shrinking several times.

"Watch out—it's about to attack!" Negril warned everyone.

Ang suddenly reached into his pocket, pulled out another bag, and hurled it hard at the extradimensional beast.