Chapter 324: The Divine Soul Is Dissipating

A lich sleepily poked its head out of a barrel nearby, stared blankly around, then stared blankly at Ange and Negrilis, yawned, and muttered, "Just a dream." Then it pulled its head back in.

After a few seconds, the lich suddenly thrust its head out again and shouted, "Not a dream! Kuba Da! Who threw me in the water! Wait, not water—Death Essence Liquid?"

The lich scooped up the Death Essence Liquid and sniffed it, exclaiming in shock, "How so much Death Essence Liquid?"

Then his gaze fell on Ange and Negrilis, and he asked in surprise, "Who are you? Duo La Mi, were you just singing?"

Two wailing banshees floated over and bowed: "Soul at peace, Lord Du Luo."

"What happened? Why am I soaking in Death Essence Liquid?" Du Luo said as he tried to climb out of the barrel, but the moment he moved, Ange pressed him back down.

"Audacious!" Du Luo glared fiercely at Ange.

Ange looked at him in confusion. Seeing no reaction, Du Luo was startled, glared harder, glared again, his eyeballs nearly popping out—but Ange still showed no reaction.

Negrilis grinned and leaned over, asking cheerfully, "Du Luo, do you know who I am?"

Du Luo glanced at it up and down, surprised: "Bronze Dragon? Did Negrilis have babies?"

"Puff!" Negrilis slammed its head into the barrel: "I'm Negrilis! I'm Negrilis!"

"Alright, alright, I know who you are from your lecherous look—just teasing you." Du Luo sneered. "What happened? Who's this guy? Why didn't he react when I glared? How did an outsider get into the Palace of Rest?"

Within the Palace of Rest, to strengthen control, all undead subordinates were cross-managed: Du Luo could intimidate the subordinates of Luo Ke, and the witch could intimidate Du Luo's subordinates.

Of the four subsidiary palaces, only Negrilis had no subordinates—neither could it intimidate others nor be intimidated by them.

The only ones Du Luo could not intimidate were outsiders or the King's direct subordinates.

Negrilis grinned: "How could he be an outsider? Could he not be the master?"

Du Luo's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them as he coldly said, "You betrayed the King?"

He struggled violently to rise from the barrel, but Ange's hand clamped down like a vice, pinning him firmly.

Negrilis slammed its head into the barrel again: "He's the chosen heir, selected personally by the King's Divine Soul! What nonsense are you spouting?"

"Heir? What happened to the King?" Du Luo gasped, then frowned. "No, no, let me think—last I remembered, I was in the graveyard, then the graveyard severed from the palace…"

Negrilis said, "Think harder. After the severance, what happened to you? Didn't you go to find a way out?"

Du Luo frowned, thinking, and sat back down in the barrel.

As long as he stayed inside, Ange released his restraint.

Du Luo, newly awakened, had muddled memories. After recalling for a long while, he murmured: "I remember the King severed the soul link, a violent tremor, the graveyard and palace lost contact—I entered the Void to scout, got struck by spatial turbulence, then…"

Here, Du Luo suddenly froze: "I'm dead?"

Negrilis nodded.

"You used my soul vial to revive me?" Du Luo asked.

"Your soul vial broke. It withered." Negrilis projected the shattered, shrunken heart of the soul vial it had just dug from a grave.

Du Luo was an alchemist—he made his own soul vial—and he instantly recognized it as beyond repair.

"This is my soul vial? Are you joking? With this thing, you expect to revive me? Don't lie to me. Move aside—I'm leaving." Du Luo was furious, convinced Negrilis was deceiving him by presenting an irreparable soul vial as his own.

Immediately, Ange pressed him back down.

Du Luo smiled at Ange: "I'll show you a magic trick."

The moment he spoke, his body exploded into a puff of smoke.

Ange reached out in confusion, grabbed the 'air' above the barrel, and shoved it back inside.

The smoke coalesced into Du Luo's body within the barrel, his face still stunned: "You can see me?"

Ange tilted his head, puzzled. You're such a big lump—how could I not see you?

To Du Luo, Ange's expression and gesture seemed deliberately provocative. He snarled: "Don't get cocky. I just woke up, I'm weak. Wait till I'm rested—I'll teach you a lesson."

Negrilis leaned over, grinning: "You won't get the chance. He inherited the King's Undying Divine Soul—he's the new master of the Palace of Rest."

Du Luo blinked, stared at Negrilis, saw it wasn't joking, and his expression turned grave.

…

"A thousand years have passed?"

"The Palace of Rest lost all souls, leaving only a gardening skeleton?"

"Kuba Da, what kind of luck is this? Even the Goddess of Fortune doesn't have this luck."

"Luo Ke is in the barrel next to me? Luo Ke? Luo Ke! How did you die? You died so badly! Wake up! Wake up!"

"The witch is gone too—probably perished. Of the King's three trusted lieutenants, only I remain?"

"You? You don't count—you're a prisoner." The casual remark made the Bronze Dragon want to fly up and hit him.

After further exchange, Du Luo finally understood what had happened.

"So the man standing before me, Lord Ange, is a single deity of Undying, Cultivation, and Beauty?" Du Luo's expression was like someone had forced a giant watermelon into his mouth—his jaw hung open.

"Yes. He has two insect deities under him, half a false Harvest deity, and what else? Oh, too many—I can't remember. Like cabbages." Negrilis sighed heavily.

Du Luo couldn't help laughing: "You're lying so badly."

Negrilis shrugged, offering no defense. Let him find out it wasn't a lie—he'd shit himself.

"Our business is done. Now it's your turn. What exactly happened back then? Why did the King disappear?" Negrilis asked.

Du Luo mirrored its gesture: "How should I know? The graveyard suddenly shook, two dimensions split apart—I was napping in a grave, then couldn't get back. When I tried to contact the King, he'd already severed the soul link."

"When he severed the soul link, did the King say anything?" Negrilis asked.

"The King said he was entering the Void Gate, didn't know if he'd return alive, and warned us to beware the Soul Storm." Du Luo recalled.

Void Gate? Ange and Negrilis exchanged glances, both instantly recalling the grand gate deep beneath the sea of the Tranquil Sea plane.

And both the witch and Du Luo mentioned Soul Storm—what was that?

Unable to fathom it, Negrilis set it aside for now and turned to Du Luo:

"So, that's the situation. Ange is now the master of the Palace of Rest. You were revived by him. Given our past familiarity, you have two choices: submit, or be destroyed."

Is that a choice? Du Luo stared wide-eyed at Negrilis. After a long pause, he smiled: "I'll show you a magic trick."

After a flurry of clattering and banging, Du Luo was lifted by the neck in Ange's hand, shouting indignantly: "Not fair! Why is my soul so weak? Let me go, let me sleep a few times, gather my Mourning Soul, then we'll fight again!"

Negrilis snapped: "You never had a Mourning Soul before. You've just been revived—you're lucky to have a soul flame. Don't even dream of Mourning Soul."

Du Luo still didn't grasp the reality: he was now a newly reborn lich, his soul and body both feeble. His once-powerful tricks meant nothing against the soul gap—hence Ange's confusion.

Negrilis said seriously: "No more jokes, Du Luo. The King is gone—very likely perished. Ange is the new master of the Palace of Rest. Either you offer your soul flame to him, or we'll seal you away until the King returns."

Du Luo knew this place better than Ange. Without a soul-binding constraint, he could never be allowed to roam freely—he was not like these wailing banshees.

He couldn't even be released, because he built the World Transit Station. Nearly all undead empire technologies originated from Du Luo. No one knew where he'd hidden backdoors.

If he refused to submit, he must be sealed—or killed.

Du Luo's expression darkened.

…

Du Luo had no choice. After confirming with the wailing banshees and Lamona that it was truly over a thousand years later, he willingly offered his soul flame to Ange.

A thousand years had passed. The sovereign hadn't returned—either perished or trapped. He couldn't risk being sealed for a sliver of hope. What if the King never came back?

Back in his palace, Du Luo immediately cursed: "Kuba Da! Who stole my spare Alchemy Set!"

Negrilis threw the cloak over its shoulders, jammed the hat on its head, and flew over swinging the Alchemy Rod: "How can you say 'stole'? I just picked it up since no one was using it."

Du Luo snapped: "There's shit on the ground too—no one's using it. Why don't you pick that up?"

A tiny zombie dashed over, its soul armor morphing into a long-handled clamp. It looked left and right, didn't see any shit, then tilted its head curiously at Du Luo.

Negrilis burst out laughing: "How do you know no one picked up the shit? It's natural organic fertilizer!"

Du Luo stared blankly. This vibe… something's off. Something's very wrong.

Forget it. Du Luo dropped the subject and turned to Negrilis: "Fine, keep the cloak and hat. Give me back the Alchemy Rod."

"No. Make another one." The Alchemy Rod was too useful—Negrilis had no intention of returning it. It even wanted Du Luo to teach it finer techniques.

"You make it sound easy. It's made of electrum, mithril, astral gems, and World Tree branches. Electrum and mithril are easy to find—but astral gems and World Tree branches? I…" Du Luo groaned, until a branch as thick as an arm floated before him, along with a pile of astral gems.

"Kuba Da! Is the Tree of Life dead? Did you cut it down? This big a branch?" Du Luo nearly jumped: "And these astral gems? How did you get so many?"

"We cut down many World Trees. We have as many as you want. You can use them to make coffins if you like."

"Heh, I believe your bullshit." Du Luo sneered. "Lend me the Alchemy Rod. I'll make a new one and return it."

"New one for me. I don't want your used junk."

"Even new ones are touched by me. Take it or leave it."

With the Alchemy Rod in hand, Du Luo's alchemy flowed easily—he quickly forged a new one.

Without the rod, he'd have to carve wood, inscribe runes, carve the base, wire, inlay, connect circuits…

Seeing how effortlessly he worked, Negrilis brought over another bundle of World Tree branches: "Make one for my followers too."

"Are you insane? Make one for your followers? How many followers do you have?" Du Luo nearly jumped up and yelled.

"One." Negrilis said, ashamed.

Du Luo froze, said nothing, quickly forged another Alchemy Rod, handed it over, and patted its shoulder.

With the Alchemy Rod, alchemy was no longer tedious. With enough materials, Du Luo could quickly equip himself.

He'd just been revived—his soul and body were pitifully weak. He needed good gear fast to maintain dignity.

Good gear required good materials—and he soon realized: "Why do you have everything? Unbound Crystal? Starfall Iron? Void Bubble Stone? Divine Wood? Uh… what's this? Faith Primordial Force—is this a Divine Soul? You grow these? Can you grow Divine Souls?"

At that moment, Ange noticed the Divine Soul planted in the farm had matured.

"Matured" was inaccurate—it could now exist independently of its bud.

"Matured? So we've got six Divine Souls now?" Negrilis suddenly remembered something, excited.

Ange nodded, but showed no enthusiasm. Six Divine Souls—or maybe seven—could open that grand gate. But Ange had zero interest. Behind the gate, you couldn't grow crops.

"You mean the Void Gate?" Du Luo asked, hearing Ange and Negrilis.

"Right! You mentioned the Void Gate earlier. Eyewitnesses say the King entered that gate and never returned. Do you know what's behind it?" Negrilis asked.

It's just the Void, a gate to the Void. As for which part of the Void it leads to, I don't know. And have you noticed that this Divine Core is already dissipating—it's shrunk another full circle since just now?