Chapter 336: Be a Good Dai Sen My Lord

At the human camp, "Dai Sen" was pale, gobbling down pastries in large bites.

Just now, he'd suddenly felt a heart palpitation and weakness; he suspected low blood sugar, but after eating several pastries, nothing changed—why? Did he need medicine?

A subordinate scrambled in, gasping: "My lord! Anthony has betrayed us—he's arrived at the camp gate and demands to meet you. He says, as fellow Grand Archbishop and servant of the God, he requests a meeting with Dai Sen at the camp entrance."

"Dai Sen" turned instantly white—he knew exactly what he was. Anthony wanted to meet him? What should he do?

"Which direction did he come from? Did the Dwarf King show no reaction?" "Dai Sen" suppressed his panic, pulling his hand back into his sleeve to press something.

The subordinate's expression turned strange: "He—he came right from the dwarf camp."

"Dai Sen" felt his legs go weak. Anthony had come from the dwarf camp? What did that mean? That the Dwarf King had defected to Anthony?

"Dai Sen" fell into thought—on the surface, but in reality, he was still pressing the object inside his sleeve.

It was an emergency communicator, using an extremely covert method that produced almost no fluctuation—a secret communication technique gamblers often used to collude and cheat during card games.

The method was stealthy, but carried limited information—only a faint warmth—but enough to send an urgent signal.

Yet the message had been sent, and no reply had come.

"Dai Sen" had no choice but to force himself to ask: "How many men did Anthony bring?"

"Only himself."

"Dai Sen"'s eyes lit up instantly: "Really? Just himself? Bold indeed. Come, gather everyone—we'll cut him down at the gate."

The subordinate hesitated: "My lord, Anthony also said he knows your greatest secret. If you don't want it exposed, you should meet him alone. Also, gathering everyone won't help—you can't kill him. He's stationed midway between our camp and the dwarves. If we send too many, he'll flee."

"Dai Sen"'s entire back turned cold. His greatest secret? Had someone found out about the time he sneaked to watch the orc aunt bathing as a child?

Pfft—he was now Grand Archbishop Dai Sen. Could it be…

The communicator in his hand remained silent. "Dai Sen"'s dread deepened. With no other option, he forced himself to the camp gate.

On the open ground ahead, Anthony stood with his staff. Before him was a basket, covered with black cloth—inside, something unknown.

Seeing Dai Sen appear, Anthony said nothing, pointed at the basket, then stepped back dozens of meters.

"What's this? For me to go look at the basket? What's inside?" Dai Sen muttered, gesturing to a subordinate: "Go, check what's in the basket."

But as the subordinate took two steps, Anthony's voice rang out: "I advise you to go yourself. That's your greatest secret—if anyone else sees it, you won't live."

The subordinate hesitated, glancing back. "Dai Sen" hesitated, clenched his teeth, and walked forward himself, gathering holy power, eyes fixed warily on Anthony.

Anthony had retreated dozens of meters—any danger, he could still retreat in time.

When he reached the right distance, "Dai Sen" waved his hand, blowing away the black cloth—and what he saw inside made him collapse onto the ground. He saw his own head.

"Dai Sen" knew instantly it was real. In that instant, he understood why he'd felt heart palpitations and weakness, why the communicator had no reply—"himself" was dead.

Behind him, the camp erupted with the fluctuation of a Wizard's Eye—someone, seeing Dai Sen startled, had summoned one to see what was in the basket.

Dai Sen suddenly remembered Anthony's words: "greatest secret." Instinctively, he lunged forward, yanking the cloth back over the basket, and roared: "Who summoned a Wizard's Eye?! I'm discussing classified matters with Grand Archbishop Anthony! Spying on military secrets? Drag him out and cut him down!"

"Ahh? No! I didn't mean to—" A cry rang from the camp, then fell silent.

Anthony strolled over leisurely, smiling: "Dai—Sen My Lord." He stretched the name, dripping condescension.

But "Dai Sen" had no energy for such niceties—panic-stricken, he stared at Anthony, feeling as if the Hand of Fate had clenched his throat.

Anthony smiled: "Grand Archbishop Dai Sen, this impostor pretending to be you happened to cross my path. How do you like this gift?"

Impostor?! "Dai Sen" widened his eyes, staring in disbelief at Anthony.

Anthony leaned close, whispering: "You can still be Dai Sen My Lord—endless wealth at your command, loyal warriors under you, countless beautiful women of all races in your household, and a powerful ally who stands firmly by you."

As he spoke of the ally, Anthony patted his own chest.

Dai Sen suddenly grasped Anthony's meaning—his heart pounded uncontrollably. This was a path he'd never imagined.

Anthony continued softly: "Only Gulliani can tell you apart. As long as I don't speak, even Gulliani can't deny your identity. You can fully enjoy everything belonging to Dai Sen. I heard Grand Archbishop Dai Sen loves mature women of all races—do you?"

Anthony's tone matched that of demons—Dai Sen's blood surged, barely holding back.

But suddenly, something occurred to him. "Dai Sen" shook his head, troubled.

Anthony smiled: "Any hidden trouble? The Mark of Decay?" As he spoke, he pulled a vial of pills from his robe.

"Dai Sen" whispered: "Mark of Rot."

One character "decay," one "rot"—the effect was tenfold stronger. But Anthony had prepared: he pulled out another vial. "Enhanced version."

"Dai Sen" still shook his head: "Mark of Rot isn't cured by pills alone—your skin still scars. You need special techniques to remove them."

Anthony had prepared again—he pulled out a stack of vouchers: Beauty Spot-Removal Coupons, exclusive to Meishencheng.

During this time, to target Meishencheng, "Dai Sen" had studied its materials extensively—he understood it better than almost anyone.

Secret intelligence was unobtainable, but operational scope and effects could be gathered through normal channels. Women returning from Meishencheng would passionately describe everything about the city, becoming the center of every gathering.

"Dai Sen" exhaled, all worries gone. He spoke firmly: "Grand Archbishop Anthony, what do you need me to do?"

Anthony smiled slightly: "Be a good Dai Sen My Lord."

Dai Sen nodded. From now on, he was Dai Sen—no quotation marks.

As for Anthony's words, he understood: "Be a good Dai Sen My Lord"—when Anthony needed something, he would notify him separately.

If he couldn't grasp this, he had no right to be one of the "replacements."

"Then why did we meet today?" Dai Sen asked.

Anthony gave him an approving look—he was aligning the story. He smiled: "I discovered your secret and used it to threaten you into surrendering."

"What secret?" Dai Sen asked.

"I don't know. Make one up."

"When I was a child, I sneaked to watch the orc aunt bathing."

"... our tastes are truly unique. Here, let me strike you once—this explains your power drop." Anthony said.

"Alright, My Lord, easy—I'm only a High-Rank Cleric." After speaking, Dai Sen leapt back and shouted: "You think I'll surrender over such rumors? You're delusional! Fist of Truth!"

Dai Sen's body erupted in holy light.

Anthony's body erupted in holy light too, shouting: "Fool! I gave you a chance—you refused. God says: Die!"

Their erupted holy light engulfed their position—distant camps could no longer see clearly, only the thunderous sounds echoing out.

"Shield of Divine Protection! Light of Judgment!"

"Wall of Sighs! Hand of Balance!"

"God says: Under my gaze, all becomes void—Eye of Void!"

"God didn't say! Eat my staff!"

BOOM! A figure flew backward out of the light—it was Dai Sen.

Dai Sen crashed to the ground, spitting blood, shouting: "Anthony, you coward! You struck me with your staff!"

The light faded. Anthony swung his staff with fierce motion, charging forward: "God says: Striking is allowed—it's the shepherd's rod!"

Dai Sen struggled to his feet and sprinted back to camp. His men rushed out to meet him. Seeing reinforcements, Anthony "helplessly" stopped.

After Dai Sen returned and told his story, it became: "Anthony threatened Dai Sen with a secret to force surrender; Dai Sen refused sternly and was treacherously wounded by Anthony's staff."

Anthony made no denial—he instead cursed Dai Sen for being useless, unable to even withstand one blow.

Since the Dwarf King had clearly sided with Anthony, the plan to attack Meishencheng was abandoned. Back home, Dai Sen was immediately summoned by Gulliani.

Dai Sen's replacements weren't mere decoys—they could negotiate alone with the Rith Court, wander freely within the Church, each possessing considerable power.

As long as they didn't ignite Divine Fire, even Gulliani couldn't tell them apart—unless Gulliani had Anthony's observational ability.

Anthony had deduced there were at least three through subtle habits, but couldn't identify the real one. Now he knew: the one with Divine Fire was the real Dai Sen—and he was dead.

Gulliani wasn't surprised that the one who ignited Divine Fire had lost to Anthony. He knew too well what Divine Fire was—igniting it without forming a Divine Core or awakening a Divine Skill meant nothing.

After his explanation, Gulliani actually bought it.

…

Ang rarely wasn't farming. Everyone stood before the finger bone, frowning in deep thought.

Anthony returned after tricking Dai Sen and saw a crowd gathered.

He walked over curiously, tapped Lu Se on the shoulder, peering into the circle: "What's going on? What are you looking at?"

Lu Se turned, frowning, gazing blankly at Anthony. After a moment of deep thought, he said: "Forgotten. Right—what were we looking at? Beautiful women?"

Anthony saw the finger bone in the circle and immediately sensed a force at work. His heart tightened—he closed his eyes, then opened them again, golden rings flashing in his gaze.

He shoved through the crowd, squeezed inside, and poked Nage Lisi: "What are you looking at? What is this? A finger bone?"

Nage Lisi frowned, his scaled brow wrinkled: "This finger bone is strange—some odd power… what kind of power again? Huh, why are we looking here?"

Nage Lisi also grew dazed.

Anthony turned to Ang: "My Lord, this seems like the Power of Forgetting. Have you been affected?"

Ang shook his head, sensing something. He glanced at Nage Lisi, then looked up at the others, all dazed.

Ang thought, then curled his body and unleashed a soul-shattering scream.

The soul impact exploded like an invisible fireball—every dazed person's body hairs stood on end, instantly snapping them back to clarity.

"What happened? What happened?"

"What's going on? Why am I here?"

"The finger bone—yes, yes, the finger bone—whose finger bone is this?"

A crowd of people awoke from their trance, murmuring to understand what had happened, then scrambled away several zhang.

Only Anthony, Nage Lisi, and Du Luo remained clustered around the bone.

"A purple-gold finger bone—why does it retain the power of the God of Forgetting? Whose finger is this? Locke's? Or Harvey's?" Nage Lisi asked, bewildered.

"Could it be the third Corpse Lord? The one the little demon mentioned—the one who followed His Majesty?" Anthony speculated.

Nage Lisi gasped: "We all forgot that skeleton—could it be because of the Power of Forgetting? That skeleton fought the God of Forgetting, was struck by the power, and now we've all forgotten his existence?"

"Hss—impossible. Such a bizarre Divine Skill? Why would a Divine Skill hitting it make us forget? That's like two people fighting, and we, not even there, get hurt." Du Luo said.

Anthony shook his head: "No. I've read the records of the God of Forgetting. Its description is exactly this: the Power of Forgetting makes the world forget you entirely—including yourself."

"Is it really that miraculous? Then why does this finger bone contain the power of forgetting?" Du Luo asked.

Anthony frowned at the finger bone, furrowing his brow in deep thought: "I forgot—wait, what were we just talking about? How much silver coin do I owe him? I don't think I owe him anything, do I?"

Negril snorted: "Useless. Even if you forget your own surname, it won't matter—the silver coins have already signed the contract with you."

Anthony awkwardly scratched his nose: "I really have forgotten my surname."

The surname Anthony referred to was not his current one—Anthony XXXX—but the one he had when he was still human over a thousand years ago, something like 'Phenikugulabachiroderisgelawatanabasyek...'—so long, even a ghost couldn't remember it.

"What caused you to forget your name? Ah—it's time," Luo Ge suddenly appeared, sighing mournfully.

Anthony gave him a strange look, then suddenly slapped his chest. Black mist surged out, coalescing into a deathless warhorse.

"Black Horse, catch him. I'll treat him so he doesn't fall into depression again."

As Luo Ge ran around in circles trying to escape, Ange picked up the finger bone and gripped it tightly in his hand.

The finger bone had two segments: one just acquired, the other retrieved from the extradimensional beast—it had been with Ange for a long time and was already attuned to him.

Thus, Ange transformed into an entirely new Death Skeleton and stood there motionless for thirty seconds.

After returning to his original form, Ange tilted his head and said: "It's called Flash Feti. I sense it's still alive."