Chapter 342: The Undead Empire

Nagelis had never fought alongside the Undead Legion, so it had no idea what logistics were—it thought undead beings didn't need them at all.

"You can do without logistics, but good logistics are combat power—can't you just stop halfway to sleep and come back later?" Du Luo said.

"That makes sense. Harvey and the Grand Sage in the Abyssal Lands lacked logistics—if they'd had enough soul crystals, their relentless assaults could've worn humans down to bleeding urine." Nagelis strongly agreed.

While they talked, the little zombie and the little angel had already overturned every tent, revealing the chests inside. An Ge's eyes swept over them, and the Scale Ring weighed each simultaneously, quickly determining exact quantities.

"Nine hundred chests, one hundred thousand per chest—nine hundred million." An Ge said.

"We're rich! We're fabulously rich!" Nagelis exclaimed.

An Ge currently had about one million followers, belonging to the Undead God, the Beauty God, or the stolen portions of the Light Church and Harvest worshippers.

On average, each believer offered about one-fifth of a soul crystal in faith energy per day—though this was an average; some gave more, some less. Someone like Ouk, for instance, gave dozens daily.

Most people offered sporadically—sometimes more, sometimes less, sometimes nothing. After all, gods were spiritual comfort, not life itself; after working themselves to exhaustion daily, who had time for prayer?

The Light Church handled this better—they required prayer before every meal; under the stimulus of food aromas, belief grew more devout.

As for the other divine aspects, rituals were sparse, lacking sustained stimulation, so most followers' devotion steadily declined.

For example, the Harvest Goddess: during the Harvest Festival month, her soul flames surged daily, but after the festival ended, the number of soul flames kept dropping, hitting a low point until next year's sowing and harvest seasons, when they rose again.

People forgot the Harvest Goddess entirely until harvest time.

All these factors combined, An Ge collected roughly two hundred thousand soul crystals daily—the term "soul crystal" here was merely a unit; what followers offered wasn't physical matter.

Nine hundred million soul crystals equaled An Ge's income over four hundred and fifty days—truly a fortune, overnight riches.

"There's one odd thing," An Ge pointed to a chest among the pile, larger than the soul crystal chests.

Inside was a vertical windmill-like object.

"Du Luo, did you make this? What is it?" Nagelis stared a while, couldn't identify it, and turned to ask.

"Witch Windmill. Not mine—made by witches. It gathers soul energy from nearby space and refines it into soul crystals." Du Luo said.

Nagelis gasped, eyes wide: "Refine soul crystals? Can machines refine soul crystals?"

Du Luo shrugged: "I don't know either. Witch-made things never follow logic—you'd have to ask her how it works."

"Where do I find her? Not even a bone left. Why not just activate the windmill and see how it refines?" Nagelis suggested.

Du Luo shook his head: "I don't know. Witches' methods are always bizarre, no fixed pattern, and they sometimes set traps—don't touch it carelessly, you might get blown to pieces."

Nagelis, about to use its tiny claw to spin the windmill's top, quickly pulled its hand behind its back.

"Then what do we do? Can't just leave it here? If this device can refine soul crystals and we activate it, won't we have an endless supply?" Nagelis lamented.

"Not exactly. Soul energy isn't infinite. Once it's all refined here, it'll stop."

Du Luo paused, then said: "As for whether it can be activated, look around. Witches like to leave repairers for their devices—see if there's an engineer wrapped in oil paper nearby."

An engineer? Nagelis was baffled. It searched around, and sure enough, found an oil-paper bundle buried beside the chest. Unwrapping it revealed a perfectly intact humanoid construct.

The humanoid construct stood about one meter sixty tall, humanoid, with four arms, a tool belt around its waist holding a ring of tools, and glasses on its face—one lens a convex lens, seemingly magnifying.

The style—no need to ask, clearly an engineer.

Nagelis turned to Du Luo: How do we activate this construct engineer?

"I know this one. Flip it over—see the latch on its back? Look in its waist tool belt for the winding lever. Here, insert it, turn." Du Luo guided.

Turned for a while—no reaction…

"Maybe it's out of energy?" Du Luo guessed.

That required An Ge's intervention. An Ge reached out, pressed his hand against the construct, and soul energy surged in. Only then did Nagelis resume turning.

Gears whirred inside the construct. Slowly, its eyes lit up, then—*beep*—it moved, extending both hands to the ground and slowly rising to its feet.

Slowly turning its head, the construct scanned everyone before it. When it saw Du Luo, it spoke in mechanical tones: "Lord Du Luo."

When it turned to An Ge, it spoke: "A skeleton."

"A dracolich, a zombie, an angel… beep-beep-beep! Alarm! Alarm! Angel detected! Angel detected!" Its gaze swept everyone, finally landing on the little angel—immediately triggering an alarm.

The little angel puffed its cheeks and instantly unfurled its light wings—but before holy light flared, An Ge snatched it up.

"Aaaah!"

"Aaaah!" The little angel protested, pointing its tiny hand at the construct.

"Aaaah! Aaaah!"

The little angel pouted, turned, squatted on the ground, and angrily poked the earth.

Du Luo stepped over, flung his cloak to block the little angel from view.

Once the little angel was hidden, the construct's alarm ceased, and its gaze resumed moving.

Nagelis crept closer, whispering: "How dumb is this thing? Why bury such a stupid one? Even a random undead wouldn't be this dim."

"Are you insane?" Du Luo gasped: "This thing is buried as a backup! Burying a soul underground is imprisonment! The King would roast your soul if he found out."

"Oh oh oh, right right right, I thought wrong—imprisoning a soul in place is too cruel. Wait, no—if you imprisoned An Ge on the farm, he'd probably be happy." Nagelis quickly apologized.

It wasn't a native undead, so sometimes it didn't realize: sealing a wight inside a construct would be indirect imprisonment—unforgivable in undead morality.

Even the Guardian Constructs had only Patsey with consciousness—not because others couldn't gain awareness, but because staying in one place forever was cruel, equivalent to indirect imprisonment for immortal souls.

"Witch Windmill—inspection—intact—activated." The construct now spotted the Witch Windmill, marched over, inspected it, found it intact, then pulled out the winding lever from its back and inserted it into the windmill.

"Wait, that's it?" Nagelis exclaimed.

Du Luo was equally surprised: "Seems like it."

As the lever turned, the windmill's blades began rotating. Only then did they notice the blades were hollow—they couldn't catch wind, but they caught "something else" in the air.

When the blades spun at full speed, the construct stopped turning the lever—the windmill now turned on its own.

The blades refined soul energy from the air, powering the windmill continuously until excess condensed into soul crystals.

Thirty seconds later—a crisp *ding*.

Inside the base, something fell out.

Opened—it was a soul crystal.

"It really refines soul crystals? How?" Nagelis examined the crystal, then tried to scan the windmill's interior with his mind.

But just like before, the core used soul-shielding material—Nagelis's mental scan detected nothing inside.

"Should we dismantle it and see?"

"Yes yes yes, I've always wanted to!"

"No no no, it would be bad if we can't put it back."

Before they finished speaking, another *ding* echoed.

As more soul crystals were refined, Nagelis calculated the rate: "About one every thirty seconds."

"It depends on local soul energy density. As density drops, the rate slows." Du Luo said.

Not slow at all. A hundred and twenty per hour, less than three thousand per day—but what is soul energy? It's a force of belief, the same as faith energy.

Meaning, the witch used this device to accomplish what only a god could do. If it refines soul crystals here, could it refine holy crystals in a temple?

Huh. Good idea. Try it.

"An Ge, what if we…" Nagelis turned—and froze. Behind them, all the chests had vanished. An Ge held the little angel in his left hand and the Great Angel's Staff in his right.

"Aaaah!" An Ge gestured with the Great Angel's Staff.

The little angel kicked its legs angrily: "Aaaah!"

An Ge planted the Great Angel's Staff in the ground and made a fist gesture: "Aaaah!"

The little angel pointed at the staff: "Aaaah—"

An Ge finally let it go.

The little angel snatched the staff, instantly cheered up, forgetting its earlier anger, and swung it wildly—*whack! —slamming the approaching little zombie into the air.

"Aaaah!" The little zombie, furious, conjured a shield and charged.

The little angel swung the Great Angel's Staff, battling the little zombie.

Soon, the little angel returned, head drooping, holding the staff broken in two, followed by the little zombie, now a swollen, bruised mess.

"Aaaah!" The little angel held the two broken halves before Du Luo.

"Huh? How'd it break? Did you smash it against rocks? You can snap it like that? No no no, I won't fix it—I'm exhausted." Du Luo recoiled, waving his hands.

The little angel tilted its head, eyes darting, then reached behind its back, plucked a feather, and held it out to Du Luo.

"Uh… a feather from a four-winged angel? No no, I can't take your angel feather—it's not right." He said no, but his hand moved fast—his palm swept over, and the feather vanished.

"Fine. Leave it with me. Come back in half an hour." Du Luo said.

Nagelis retreated to the Palace of Rest, found the vanished chests: "That dead skeleton moves fast. Alright, just put them away."

No sooner said than a withered skeleton approached, and Feti's voice rang from its bones: "Huh? These chests look familiar… where have I seen them before?"

"This is the Palace of Rest—what wouldn't you recognize? These chests have been here since long ago." Nagelis lied.

"Oh right. Well, I've wandered. Nothing's changed—still the same. The King's palace won't open, and the Guardian Emperor out front is gone." Feti said.

"Guardian Emperor? What's that?" Nagelis asked.

"The King's Palace Guardian Emperor." Feti transmitted an image via thought.

A massive steel statue stood before the main hall, holding a sword upright with both hands, expressionless.

Nagelis froze in shock—he'd never seen this thing before. Was there really something like this at the main hall's entrance?

The Copper Book zoomed to the entrance. Where Feti's image showed the statue, the ground was empty now—the ten-meter-tall statue had vanished, its traces buried under tomb grass.

Had Feti not mentioned it, no one would've known a steel statue had ever stood there.

That statue was the Palace Guardian Emperor—clearly a higher rank than the teleportation array's Guardian.

Asked outside, Du Luo exclaimed: "That statue's a Guardian? Not mine! I thought it was just a statue. Feti can't be wrong, right?"

Nagelis whispered: "An Ge, slip the Witch Windmill inside, put it far away, then haul Feti out—don't let him see the windmill. He'll claim it as his. This is all Undead Empire property—belonging to the Palace of Rest."

"Oh." An Ge did as told, slipped the Witch Windmill inside, then hauled Feti out.

Facing Du Luo's skepticism, Fei Ti shook his head: "I won't forget—I fought it, and I lost."

"Pfft... The Lord of Mourning couldn't beat the Guardian Emperor? No way—was that statue really that terrifying?"

That makes sense too—how could a palace guarding the Immortal King lack strength? Where did such a powerful Guardian Emperor go?

"The Immortal Empire's wealth is truly immense," Nagelis exclaimed involuntarily.

Why? Why wasn't it the one to inherit the legacy! Damn lucky skeleton! Nagelis's expression twisted in fury.

They were chatting, but Ange was observing his surroundings; suddenly he pointed to the distant horizon and said: "This place feels like heaven."