Chapter 25

Curious about the condition of the skeleton, Negril hurriedly urged: “Try it, you’ll see once you try.”

Ang tilted his head. How do you try? Can you even try this thing?

“Legend says angels never die—they can be reborn by bathing in holy light. You have holy light, so go ahead and try,” Negril urged.

Ang raised his palm, murmured the Purification Spell, and a cluster of holy light instantly sprouted from his palm.

When Ang’s palm pressed against the slender skeleton, the once-aggressive, struggling skeleton tilted its head, staring curiously at Ang’s hand, then fell silent.

Under the holy light, the skeleton’s bones underwent visible changes—muscle fibers and blood vessels grew continuously.

“It really is an angel’s skeleton, truly immortal—reborn upon contact with holy light. That’s enough, stop now. Just knowing is enough. One Purification Spell restores only this tiny bit. Reviving an angel would take countless hours and effort,” Negril said, his curiosity satisfied and new knowledge acquired, ready to halt Ang’s actions.

After one Purification Spell, only a palm-sized membrane grew on the bones—no thicker than a millimeter. At this rate, it would take thousands or even tens of thousands of Purification Spells to revive the angel. Ang was alone—he could never complete such an intense task.

When the Purification Spell ended and the holy light vanished, the once-calm slender skeleton panicked instantly, reaching out to grab Ang’s hand, turning it over to inspect it, poking his palm as if wondering why it no longer glowed.

Ang cast the Purification Spell again, and the pure light reappeared in his palm.

The slender skeleton reached out curiously, trying to grasp the holy light in its hand. Of course, light couldn’t be held—but as it gripped, its entire palm was bathed in holy light, slowly growing layers of blood vessels and muscle.

By the time Ang cast his thirty-fifth Purification Spell, the slender skeleton’s entire hand had fully regenerated—a long, slender, white, and powerful little hand.

As a skeleton that had farmed for a thousand years, Ang had no shortage of patience. If he could cast only one Purification Spell per day, and if he was interested, he might spend ten thousand days, one holy light per day, slowly reviving the skeleton.

But he was also a man with extraordinary mental strength—his mana regenerated faster than he consumed it. He could cast Level One spells nonstop without feeling the slightest strain.

Thus, to Negril’s stunned disbelief, Ang spent three full days and nights, casting over eight thousand Purification Spells, to revive the angel’s skeleton.

One meter fifty tall, golden hair, blue eyes, translucent skin, white wings—like a pure, holy… doll, for its eyes were vacant, gaze dull, pupils scattered, as if it had no soul.

Of course, it had a soul—an immortal soul.

Negril sighed bitterly: “This isn’t an angel—just a skeleton wrapped in flesh. Your Purification Spell isn’t true holy light; without the bird-people’s faith, you can’t restore it into a real angel. What a mess, Ang—you’ve created a monster never seen before.”

Even the God of Knowledge was left speechless. This angel skeleton was truly beyond words.

Whether it looked human or angelic, it was fundamentally a newly born skeleton—only slightly more agile and combative than ordinary skeletons, with flesh covering its bones and slightly better durability. That’s all.

It possessed none of the angel’s combat power, purification ability, or divine arts.

Ang didn’t care about any of that. He was merely curious about the skeleton itself—wanted to see what it looked like. Now that he’d seen it, he tied it up and ignored it.

But the little zombie started picking fights with it. Whenever free, the little zombie would go to brawl with it. The zombie was tough, thick-skinned, and fast; the angel skeleton was agile, nimble, and could fly. They were evenly matched—neither gained advantage.

The angel skeleton still looked ready to fight anyone. Negril said it was probably a war angel, hence its fierce combat will—even more reckless than the little zombie.

Perhaps because it drew power from Ang, it grew docile around him. When injured in fights with the little zombie, it would rush over to Ang, rubbing against him, showing off its wounds.

Ang had no choice but to cast a Purification Spell to heal her.

Amid all the noise and commotion, Lisa returned with Anna and Lan.

“Th-this many glowing moss? Th-this many holy mushrooms? Th-these are minotaurs? Minotaurs only worship ancestral totems—why are they in the temple? Have they betrayed their ancestors?” Anna, like a naive girl unfamiliar with the world, kept whispering in astonishment.

Lisa liked this simple yet clever girl and smiled, pointing at the minotaur skeletons fetching water: “That’s their ancestor. Of course, they’re here mainly because food and lodging are free.”

At that moment, Lan spotted something and shouted angrily: “Damn it! You’re imprisoning a little girl? I trusted you wrong.”

As Lan cursed, he tapped his toe lightly and shot forward. The moment he entered the temple’s boundaries, a soul-shattering shriek rang out.

A silver-white skeleton sprinted from afar, wielding a broom upside-down, lunging straight at Lan and swinging it hard.

Lan, mid-air, twisted desperately, rolling back in disarray.

The broom missed its target. Upon hitting the ground, the silver skeleton halted, the bristles at its tip smoking, slowly transforming into a blade.

The hollow eye sockets of the silver skeleton revealed no emotion—only a wooden gaze fixed on Lan. No one doubted that if Lan dared charge again, the blade would strike.

Normally, the silver skeleton showed no reaction to people entering or leaving the temple, quietly sweeping the floor. But any hostile intrusion or chaos triggered its ferocious response.

“Are you insane? Don’t act recklessly—that’s the temple guardian, even Phyllin can’t control it. And what do you mean ‘imprisoning’—” Lisa trailed off, following Lan’s charge, and saw the angel skeleton. In the dusty temple, it glowed pure white, like a little angel…

Skeletons and zombies had no concept of clothing, so the angel skeleton was tied up bare, eyes vacant, pitiful beyond words. No wonder Lan, upon seeing it, immediately accused them of imprisoning a little girl—anyone would misunderstand this scene.

Lisa panicked. Could it be? She’d been gone less than ten days, and already such a terrible thing happened? Could her Lord Ang truly be an evil skeleton?