Chapter 301: Fifth-Ranked Knightly Order

Undead creatures have souls, but these are actually two different things: one is the spirit, the other is the vessel; spirit is consciousness, vessel is the container—Ang means there is a consciousness on this straw owl.

This is not uncommon; some soul artifacts also contain consciousness, like the Earth Holy Hammer, the Copper Book…

The spirit on the straw owl is fundamentally the same kind of entity as Negrilis, but when Ang touched it, he immediately sensed a difference—this consciousness was murmuring:

"Child, take care."

"The magic straw is almost ready—I won't accept failure."

"I am the strongest druid."

"Dragon dung stinks…"

None of these were new—they were all content Ang had received from the lingering fragments of Spring Wind's remains.

Ang tilted his head and pointed at the child: "This consciousness was created by him."

Only an artificially created consciousness would be this rigid and monotonous—but this was already an astonishing feat; the child had created a consciousness.

It was still unknown what level this consciousness was, whether it had wisdom—but a child who had learned nothing could, solely from the fragments of a corpse's lingering mind, forcibly forge a consciousness—this was certainly no simple thing.

Negrilis was stunned; whether it was clay molded into straw or an artificially created consciousness, neither belonged to any normal power system—only divine magic could produce such miraculous effects.

But a child of a few years old defined divine magic? Are you joking?

"Little Bu, wait—why call him Little Bu?" Negrilis realized something and turned to Katie.

"Have you named him?" Katie asked.

Negrilis frowned, thinking for a moment, unable to recall whether he had named him—or whether Spring Wind had ever given him a name.

"So I'm calling him Little Bu for now—would Lord Negrilis like to name him?" Katie asked.

Negrilis shook his head: "Forget it, call him Little Bu—it sounds fine."

After a pause, Negrilis continued: "You just said he used mud to mold this straw owl—what does that mean? How do you mold mud into straw?"

Katie spread her hands, bewildered: "I don't know either—I just saw him shaping it, and suddenly it turned into a lump of straw."

Saying this, Katie turned to Little Bu and spoke softly: "Little Bu, how did you do it? Can you show Lord Negrilis?"

"Aoo!" Little Bu shook his head and clutched the straw owl tightly.

Negrilis froze—why did everyone say "aoo"? Did the little angel teach them?

Negrilis understood "aoo"—Little Bu was saying: "One, can't make another."

The meaning was clear: he had made one already, but couldn't make a second.

Negrilis floated closer to Little Bu and asked gently: "Little Bu, why did you think of turning something into an owl?"

Little Bu pointed at the straw owl and spoke in flawless Common Tongue: "Wind Grandpa."

The child couldn't even speak clearly—but these words came out perfectly, clearly someone had patiently taught him.

Negrilis floated up and sighed to Katie: "Ah, this child has never forgotten Spring Wind the Great Druid—perhaps Spring Wind often transformed into an owl, so he believes the owl *is* his Wind Grandpa… so pitiful—he remembers everything from before."

Katie nodded: "Yes, poor little thing—he still wakes up screaming from nightmares, then clings to me crying, saying 'dragon dung stinks'—what kind of dung could he remember so clearly?"

Negrilis scratched his nose awkwardly, about to change the subject, when suddenly a low "aoo" came from behind.

He turned—Little Angel had dragged Little Bu to the muddy ground beside them. Along with Ang the zombie, they all sat cross-legged in a circle, Ang pouring water inside the circle.

When the water was done, Little Angel let out an "Aoo!" at him.

"Aoo?"

"Aoo!"

"Aoo~"

"Boom!"

"Waaah…"

"Boom!"

After this warm, enthusiastic exchange, Little Bu, sporting two black eyes, sullenly began kneading mud—and just moments ago he'd claimed he couldn't do it, now a new mud owl slowly took shape in his hands.

Negrilis didn't know what to say—these creatures who only said "aoo" communicated in far more brutal, direct ways.

Katie's heart ached, but she dared not speak—she could only twist her sleeves nervously.

After shaping the mud into an owl, Little Bu carefully carved every detail—eyes, feathers, lifelike—then reached out to pick it up.

Mud couldn't be picked up—but Little Bu strained with all his might, and as he lifted it, the mud owl collapsed into a lump of straw.

"Hss—really transformed? From mud to straw? How? Is this an illusion? Doesn't this mean altering elements?" Negrilis gasped, muttering in disbelief.

This transformation from one substance to another exceeded her understanding—she couldn't fathom how it was done. Divine magic?

Only divine magic could produce such irrational changes—or perhaps it followed another set of laws: the laws of gods.

Thinking of this, Negrilis hurried over to Ang: "Is he your believer? Stop squatting—you're a grown man, a god, people are watching—don't act like a child."

Only Ang could do this—a true Triune God squatting on the ground watching a child play with mud.

Ang nodded.

"Which godhood?"

"God of Cultivation."

"I guessed it," Negrilis said, unsurprised: "So does this count as defining divine magic? Can you use this divine magic?"

Ang nodded, molded a bone from mud, then lifted it.

The mud bone instantly turned into a bone made of tied straw.

"... nly straw? Can't turn into anything else? What's the use of turning mud into straw…" Negrilis sighed: "I knew I shouldn't have hoped."

She had thought Ang might improve this divine magic—after all, Little Bu was barely five years old; if he could turn things into straw, couldn't Ang improve it to make gold or silver?

This was elemental transmutation—turning earth element into 'wood' element—an act of creation. Of course, there was no such thing as 'wood' element.

Ang tilted his head, picked up the straw bone, and tossed it to Lei Ting: "Eat."

Lei Ting snatched it in her mouth, chewing as she asked: "Why make me eat this? So bitter, pricks my mouth—I want tender shoots from the World Tree."

Though bitter, Lei Ting still chewed and swallowed—she assumed Ang had thrown her special straw, since it was created—but after swallowing, she realized it was just ordinary straw, identical in texture.

How long had it been since Lei Ting last chewed straw? Since following Ang, never—last time was at least beet leaves.

"Pah, disgusting," Lei Ting spat, spitting out the prickly bits.

Ang then said: "Can eat."

Negrilis understood—he sighed irritably: "Yes, yes, it's edible, you can feed it to horses—mud turns to straw, feed horses."

It was impossible—mud and straw were both worthless, but transforming them surely required divine power—wasting divine energy just to make straw to eat? Madness.

For now, that was all—Ang's stubbornness stemmed from his inability to produce anything but straw.

"What about this spirit?" Negrilis pointed at the consciousness inside the straw owl.

Straw was straw—it couldn't serve as a vessel for consciousness; it would soon fall apart. They needed to transfer it elsewhere.

Ang pulled out a straw man's hat—he had collected many such hats at the farm, most broken, until Negrilis obtained the Golden Rod and repaired them.

But by then it was meaningless—Du Luo's palace had many straw man hats.

Transferred the consciousness into the hat, then reattached it to the straw owl.

"Hmm, this works—the straw man's hat is the true vessel; as long as the hat isn't broken, you can just reweave the straw," Negrilis nodded.

The consciousness slowly merged with the hat—suddenly, with a flash, the straw owl transformed into a crude, living owl.

But everyone could see it was fake—the consciousness was too weak; everyone present could see through the illusion.

Only Little Bu didn't care—he excitedly hugged the straw owl and shouted: "Wind Grandpa!"

Under the hat's illusion, the owl spoke: "Dragon dung stinks… I am the strongest druid… Child, take care…"

Negrilis's forehead darkened with annoyance: "Don't let Nai Aili see it."

Katie nodded, confused.

One more consciousness had appeared—but it was incomplete, more like a ghost or fragmented spirit—yet its significance was immense, because it was created by Little Bu.

This was not Spring Wind the Druid's consciousness—it was Little Bu's own memory, projecting similar behavioral traits onto it; anything beyond Little Bu's memory simply didn't exist.

For example, in his mind, Wind Grandpa was an owl—he likely couldn't even recall what Spring Wind the Great Druid looked like in human form.

"Raise him well," Negrilis sighed. "So powerful at such a young age—who knows what great things he'll accomplish."

"Yes, should we send him to Star College?" Katie chattered on. "Xi Lu Di said they have a beginner class—children as young as three can enroll and receive magical enlightenment. She said learning magical language as early as possible is best—children's linguistic aptitude is strongest and fades with age. I tried learning 'aoo' but couldn't pick up a single word—he learned it effortlessly."

"There's also—" She started to say more, when suddenly a deep voice boomed: "Wuuu—Tree-man Gaoer—detects enemy—engage!"

The deep voice carried far—the entire Meishencheng erupted in chaos.

Ang immediately rose into the air, gazing toward the Falling Dragon Lake to the west.

The Falling Dragon Lake and the Great Rift lie in a straight line—seen from above, they resemble an exclamation mark. Meishencheng stands on the plain between the Great Rift and the East River; two hundred kilometers south lies the Oasis of Hope.

If the enemy came from the south, they would first have to cross the oasis and desert.

The oasis's economy was now thriving, traffic heavy—no large force could slip through the desert and oasis undetected to attack Meishencheng from the south.

Advancing along the river was impossible—the East River's defenses were paramount; some stretches required men to pull boats by hand—any large force attempting river assault was pure fantasy.

The only possible stealthy approach was from the west—the Falling Dragon Lake, hundreds of kilometers wide, like an ocean—easily infiltrated from any direction.

Of course, Ang didn't analyze any of this—he looked this way simply because Tree-man Gaoer was also alerting toward it.

At that moment, Ang sensed Anthony's urgent call within his soul: "My Lord, I've received intelligence—the Flying Dragon Knights' hay consumption has sharply dropped—I suspect they've mobilized. I don't know if their target is me or you—please inform Lord Negrilis to raise his guard."

Ang replied: "It's me—I see the flying dragons."

On the surface of the Falling Dragon Lake, a vast swarm of flying dragons was skimming the water, surging toward Meishencheng.

The Flying Dragon Knights—the fifth-ranked aerial knightly order in the realm—totaling only one thousand, their mounts were common flying dragons, a low-tier dragon beast.

Yet even as low-tier dragon beasts, flying dragons measured six meters in length, with eight-meter wingspans, easily carrying fully armored knights on long-range raids.

Unlike ordinary horses, which needed rest after dozens of kilometers, flying dragons needed none—they could fly thousands of kilometers nonstop, breathe fireballs, tear enemies apart, and even on land, they were massive six- to seven-meter beasts.

When such beasts numbered a thousand, their flight resembled a dark cloud.

Compared to these dragon knights, the winged knights he'd encountered before were child's play—similar in number, but utterly unequal in combat power.

Although the Dragon Knight Corps was formidable, in the ranking of aerial knight corps, they could only place fifth, because the top four were even stronger.

For example, the top-ranked Dragon Legion, the second-ranked Star Mage Corps, the third-ranked Two-Headed Chimera Knight Corps, and the fourth-ranked Dwarf Griffin Knight Corps.

The Dragon Knight Corps belonged to the Guangmingjiaoting and was under the direct command of Gulianni; clearly, after his proposal to expel the Abyss Nomads was rejected at the Plane Security Meeting, Gulianni decided to carry it out himself.

The Plane Security Meeting was a regular forum for coordinating the major powers of the planes, but if one side refused to abide by the agreement and insisted on forcing its will...

Then, unless the other sides directly deployed troops to intervene by force, all they could do was berate them at the next meeting.

At the Security Meeting, Ang had four allies who would help him berate them—but first, he needed to deal with these Dragon Knights.