Chapter 34

In the sinkhole, Ang held the soul-fire, and everyone gathered around.

“Let me go at once! I am one of the three leaders of Devil’s Valley, the high-rank devil Turus the Magma! Harm me, and you defy Devil’s Valley—that’s war! You’ll pay!” Turus’s roar echoed from the soul-fire.

Though he didn’t know why, his soul had truly been pulled out—he had to act fast to save himself; empty threats were one tactic.

“You burned our crops and fields, and now you expect us to let you go? My lord, how should we deal with him?” Phelin spat in fury.

Ang tilted his head, thinking for a moment: “Eat him.” The soul-fire had no other value besides being eaten; Ang handed it to the little zombie.

Turus froze. He’d only been bluffing—why were they actually going to eat him? Couldn’t they at least discuss it?

“Huh? That’s not right! Eat him? A high-rank devil’s soul is valuable…!” Phelin was stunned. The soul of Turus the Lava Devil, one of Devil’s Valley’s three leaders—just eat it? That’s not right! Too wasteful!

Before he could finish, the little zombie eagerly bit into the soul-fire and refused to let go.

Since entering the dungeon, Ang had forbidden it from preying on souls, but since the soul network was established, it could share soul energy from Ang—its growth rate hadn’t slowed.

Yet the sensation of devouring soul energy was so delightful; suddenly being denied it had made it miserable. Now, Ang suddenly offered it a large mass of soul-fire—the little zombie couldn’t hold back.

Seeing the little zombie bite through the soul-fire and greedily suck it in, Aske was even more shocked. He quietly pulled Phelin aside: “What happened? What did that devil say to offend the lord?”

“Uh, he said this was war, and we’d pay the price,” Phelin replied.

“Serves him right—daring to threaten the lord? He asked for death,” Aske instantly understood. So he’d threatened the lord? Being destroyed was perfectly reasonable.

“But… it’s such a waste! That’s a high-rank devil’s soul—it knows so much! I wanted to ask about Devil’s Valley!” Phelin still felt killing it so easily was too hasty.

Aske had a different view, sneering: “What’s to waste? Does the lord care about a high-rank devil? Even a great devil—or the Devil King—is nothing to the lord.” Aske gestured with his pinky nail.

Phelin’s soul trembled violently. Right—he forgot. To the Watcher Lord, high-rank devils, the three leaders of Devil’s Valley—they meant nothing. Devil’s Valley’s secrets were irrelevant. Did the Watcher Lord even care about a mere Devil’s Valley?

A thousand years ago, when the world transit station still operated, a single squad of Black Knights could have crushed Devil’s Valley flat.

Realizing this, Phelin relaxed. What mattered to him was trivial to the Watcher Lord. Eat it—fine.

But just then, the little zombie suddenly arched its body, green light radiating from its mouth, eyes, and nose, its soul screaming in agony.

When Ang tossed the soul-fire to the little zombie, he overlooked one thing: the vast gap in soul strength between them.

Turus, no matter how weak, was still a high-rank devil. The little zombie, no matter how reckless, was only a low-rank lich—its soul strength hadn’t even surpassed a bone skeleton. For the little zombie to devour Turus’s soul was like a small fish swallowing a large one—immensely difficult, and likely to result in backlash.

Now the backlash came. Turus’s consciousness roared inside the little zombie’s soul: “Want to eat me? With a soul this weak? Who’s eating whom? I am Turus, one of Devil’s Valley’s three leaders! You pitiful thing—die!”

Turus’s powerful consciousness crushed the little zombie’s, about to swallow it whole—when suddenly, a massive face appeared beside the little zombie.

Ang and the little zombie were connected by the soul network. Think you can devour the little zombie’s consciousness? Did you ask Ang?

Ang’s skull was the manifestation of his consciousness—far stronger than the little zombie’s, like a mountain rising beside a mound of dirt. Turus froze in terror.

The little zombie immediately pressed against Ang, turning back to point at Turus and howling.

In Ang’s hollow eye sockets, the blue flames flared fiercely. Turus’s consciousness felt a powerful suction—he was helplessly pulled toward Ang’s skull.

As he was dragged forward, the immense force tore him apart. Thus, Turus as an independent consciousness ceased to exist—only his memories and soul energy remained.

Soul energy without consciousness was ownerless. The little zombie happily absorbed it, howling toward the angel skull as if savoring a feast.

The angel skull crawled over and punched the little zombie in its eye sockets, glaring at it.

Normally, the little zombie would have struck back—but this time, it didn’t. Instead, it split half its soul energy and offered it to the angel skull.

The angel skull, still weakened from its last big spell, accepted it without hesitation and slowly absorbed it.

In truth, Ang had been careless—the little zombie couldn’t possibly digest so much soul energy. Splitting it in half was better.

The soul energy was divided between the little zombie and the angel skull; the fragments of memory were naturally absorbed by Ang.

Ang had no interest in these memories. He skimmed through them briefly, then erased them all—his only thought remained: dared to burn my fields…

…

The glowing moss field had been reduced to ash. Though angry, there was no undoing it—he could only abandon it and focus on cultivating the sinkhole’s farmland. But before that, Ang spent three days and nights using over seven thousand Purification Spells to restore the angel skull to its girl form.

She still wore the same blank expression, hollow eyes, and vacant stare—yet whenever Phelin or Aske passed near her, they instinctively circled away, fearing she might unleash a Holy Flash.

This was a devastating weapon. Give it three days to recover, feed it sixty Purification Spells, and it could flash-blast a high-rank devil. Terrifying. It deserved its title as Battle Angel.

After several days, Ang tilled the sinkhole’s ground into farmland and planted glowing moss and grain crops.

Before tilling, Ang had already started seedlings. When the farmland was ready, the seedlings had grown perfectly—he transplanted them, and the farmland took shape.

The illumination array on the cliff wall worked well. Following Huang Tong’s advice, Ang added a stabilizing circuit. One infusion of magic power kept the array glowing steadily for eight hours.

This stunned Aske. Eight hours of light was nearly sufficient for crops—how much magic did this save?

Under the combined effect of glowing moss and the illumination array, the crops thrived—they should bear grain soon.

Ang resumed his regular routine: tending crops, watering, infusing magic into the illumination array, purifying holy water, healing the angel skull’s wounds from fights, and practicing the Death Scythe. His days were orderly and fulfilling.

Until a month later, the fresh, dewy Lisa arrived with equally fresh and tender Lan.