Chapter 391: So Annoying, I Miss Huang Tong

Ang felt a point far away, utterly unlike any other node in the soul network; curious, he projected himself there without hesitation.

He had done this many times—projecting onto the coin, onto Anthony, onto Ock—but this time, the process felt unusually long, ending inside a body.

The dormant soul-heart resumed beating; hollow eye sockets ignited with blue flames, and Ang realized he was inside the skeletal frame of a gray-boned knight clad in armor.

The skeleton was curled in a small cell, arms wrapped around its knees, having slept for who knew how long—until Ang's arrival rekindled its soul.

Faint remnants of thought drifted from the bones into Ang's mind: Rock! Invincible! Rock! Strongbone! Rock!...

Rock? A huge question mark rose in Ang's mind. Why did this skeleton retain the thoughts of Strongbone Rock? Had Strongbone Rock not died after all, but followed the King here?

Ang examined the skeleton and found a few more lingering thoughts.

They were indeed the remnants of Strongbone Rock's consciousness; Rock had not died—his soul had been transported alongside the Undying King, which was why his body remained in the Palace of Rest.

Or perhaps he had not died before, but now had scattered, leaving only a few lingering thoughts and a shell housing a soul-heart.

Ang checked the body and soul, finding the situation dire: the soul-heart had shriveled to near-shattering.

The shell was the same—degenerated into gray bone, yet joints still hinted it had once belonged to a Gold-rank.

Once a Gold-rank skeleton, it had continuously degenerated into its current state for some reason.

Ang did not know the cause; it certainly wasn't due to soul shrinkage—even a soulless skeleton would merely rot, not degenerate.

Ang shifted his body, crawling out of the cell, then realized: his cell wasn't alone—it covered an entire wall… the whole basement, all four walls, were filled with them.

Each cell was crammed with a skeleton; some intact, most scattered and haphazardly tossed in, as if someone had dumped the bones there after death.

Was this a graveyard just for piling up corpses?

Ang wandered around and found, besides the bone-stuffed cells, only one door—and two characters on it.

What characters? Ang instinctively tilted his head.

But after waiting a moment with no response, he realized—he was a projection; Nagelis wasn't here.

If Ang's projection node were his own, Nagelis could follow—but this node was Rock's; Ang could come because their power sources matched, but Nagelis couldn't.

Nagelis wasn't here; no one to answer him. It felt strange. What did the two characters mean? Forget it—he couldn't read them. Ang turned his gaze to the door lock.

The door was locked from the outside; no keyhole or handle inside. To leave, he'd likely have to smash it—should he?

As he hesitated, footsteps and muttering suddenly sounded outside the door.

Someone hurried toward the door, whispering: "Holy Spirit, bless me—I had no bread, so I took a few coins to buy some. Please don't be angry, don't be angry."

Soon, the person reached the door—keys jingled, then a click—the door opened. A white-robed priest slipped in quickly, slammed it shut, leaving only a crack.

After finishing, the priest sighed nervously, wiped sweat from his brow, turned—and saw Ang, his eye sockets glowing blue fire.

Cold sweat visibly burst across the priest's face, streaming down in rivulets; his whole body trembled.

Ang tilted his head.

Without a word, the priest dropped to his knees: "Forgive me, Holy Spirit! I didn't mean to disturb your slumber! Forgive me, forgive me! I'm leaving now, I'm leaving now!"

He spoke without raising his head, backing up on his knees, fumbling toward the door crack, ready to open it—when Ang's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Ahhhh—!" The priest screamed, collapsed, and fainted.

Ang stared at his own hand, saw nothing unusual—why did he faint? Low blood sugar?

Ang flipped the unconscious priest over and slapped his face. His men back home always woke people up like this.

The priest blinked open his eyes, saw a skeleton gripping him, and began shaking uncontrollably:

"H-Holy Spirit! P-please forgive me! I won't do it again! I confess! I repent! I sold some gold ornaments from the stone chamber! I won't do it again! Don't judge me!"

Ang tilted his head in confusion.

If Nagelis were here, he'd know Ang's head tilt meant something—but the priest didn't understand; he thought Ang was displeased and pleaded urgently:

"My lord, I had no choice! Supplies haven't come for ages. I guard the Holy Chamber alone—with no money, no food. If I didn't trade the relics for grain, I'd starve. I didn't mean it! Please forgive me! I won't do it again!"

Ang thought a moment, then asked: "Who are you?"

"Gravekeeper, gravekeeper! Holy Spirit, I'm Albert, the gravekeeper of the stone chamber cemetery!" the priest rushed to answer.

If Ang had stayed silent, the priest might have wet himself—asking him questions was a good sign.

Ang asked again: "Who am I?"

"Ahh?!" Albert was stunned: "You? Aren't you the Holy Spirit? The awakened soul, the sacred spirit dwelling in a decaying shell, the holy wings protecting mortals, wielding the holy sword to judge all realms, condemning sin?"

Ang tilted his head. Familiar phrasing—was there a Church of Light here too?

Confused, Ang suddenly remembered what to do—he still had another identity: Monk An. Pretending to be a Light monk was second nature; he slipped back into his familiar rhythm.

Ang looked at Albert and said: "You are guilty."

Instantly, a thin chain snapped up from the ground, wrapping around the priest. Ang examined it closely—it was the Chain of Greed.

Only one Original Sin Chain? This priest must be devout and austere.

Having played the ascetic monk for so long, Ang knew well: the seven Original Sins were innate instincts, not sins at all.

Is gluttony a sin? No—it just makes you fat. Is greed a sin? No—robbery and theft are.

If a greedy person controls himself, works hard to satisfy his desires—is that a sin?

Lust and sloth were even more absurd—without lust, how would life reproduce? Without sloth, how would society advance?

But the Church of Light labeled them "sins," hoping all clergy and believers would overcome their desires and devoutly serve the Light Gods.

Ascetic monks were the champions who overcame desire through hardship.

So technically, all beings carried Original Sin—perhaps only Ang, a skeleton without desire, had none.

But why did some trigger the Original Sin Chain, while others didn't? There was a clever trick here: only if you believed you were guilty would the chain activate.

That is, when Ang said "You are guilty," if you firmly believed you weren't, the chain wouldn't trigger.

This was the principle Ang discovered after judging many people—it wasn't Ang condemning them; they condemned themselves.

That's why most who triggered the Original Sin Chain were Light followers and clergy—they knew what Original Sin was, and subconsciously believed they were guilty.

Back in the Slums of Despair, the child trafficker hadn't triggered the chain—he didn't think he was guilty; he believed he was doing good.

He thought he was rescuing poor children by taking them to wealthier places—even some parents had sold them to him, muttering things like "I'm finding them a better family."

This priest had triggered only one Original Sin Chain, meaning his subconscious believed he had only one sin—if so, his life must be very austere.

The Original Sin Chain vanished after a short time. Ang was a projection; his power wasn't enough to sustain such a divine art for long.

Albert sat stunned, kneeling, not daring to move. Ang kicked him aside and walked out through the door himself.

Though the priest said he guarded the stone chamber alone, implying he might be the only one here, Ang didn't really care.

He was only a projection—if someone cut him down, it wouldn't harm his true self, so he had no reservations.

Outside the door was a long stone corridor, with similar doors stretching ahead—at least four or five like the one he'd exited, meaning there might be four or five similar stone chambers.

One side of the corridor was sealed; the other glowed. Ang walked toward the light, turned a corner, found stairs, climbed up, turned left, turned right, and reached a semi-open cavern.

Standing in the cavern and looking out, he saw dozens of acres of abandoned farmland below.

Ang stepped out of the cavern—beyond the cave mouth lay the abandoned fields, and farther, endless yellow desert stretching to the horizon. The cavern seemed to sit at the desert's edge.

Footsteps. Ang turned—there stood the priest, cautiously peering around the corner, glancing at Ang. When Ang looked back, he instantly yanked his head away.

After a while, he stuck his head out again. He did this several times, seemingly realizing Ang had no intention of harming him, then slowly, step by step, crept out.

"Where is this?" Ang asked.

"Back to Holy Spirit, this is the Yellow Sand Wasteland," the priest hurried to reply.

"I'm not…" Ang wanted to say he wasn't the Holy Spirit—he was clearly inside a skeleton, so why did the priest call him Holy Spirit?

But after saying three words, he stopped. Explaining would take too long—he was tired just thinking about it. Forget it.

At that moment, he missed Nagelis. With Huang Tong around, he never had to speak.

The priest waited, heard no reply, found it odd—but then, he volunteered: "It's remote, but safe. This is the safest stone chamber cemetery— even the Church rarely knows of it, let alone undead creatures. Here, you're perfectly safe."

Ang tilted his head. Safe? The undead couldn't find this place, so it was safe?

The Church of Light fought undead creatures—that made sense. But wasn't he himself a skeleton? Were skeletons here not considered undead?

Ang thought a while, realized he needed more information to understand this—he'd have to ask the priest more questions…

So annoying. Forget it.

He changed the subject: "Fields, abandoned."

Albert replied: "Yes, my lord. For years, drought has plagued us—no rain, no water. The fields used to sustain me alone, but now there's no water."

"The Church hasn't sent supplies for months—not even once. I wonder if they've been discovered and fled. I had no choice but to sell the gold ornaments from the stone chamber. My lord, I didn't mean to—I beg your forgiveness."

The priest's words carried too much information. If Nagelis were here, he'd interrogate until midnight, probing every detail.

But Ang, after listening, hesitated a moment, then asked: "Can the fields be planted?"

The priest blinked: "There's no water." He mentally replayed his own words—had he not explained clearly?

Ang walked down, opened his palm, focused—gentle raindrops fell from his palm onto the parched farmland.

Remote projection weakened power drastically—the stronger the power, the more it faded. But weaker powers, already low in intensity, showed little loss after fading.

Ang realized his Rain Spell was nearly as strong as when he'd first left the Palace of Rest—enough to thoroughly irrigate thousands of acres.

After soaking the twenty or thirty acres near the cave mouth, Ang walked back and asked: "Can the fields be planted?"

"Y-yes, yes yes!" What else could the priest say? He hurried to agree, thinking inwardly: Is this Holy Spirit… an idiot?

…

Ang, unable to look away from the fields, happily began farming. He hadn't farmed in over two months. But soon, he noticed a problem—his hand couldn't reach into the Palace of Rest.

Of course—it was only his mind projecting, not his body. The Cross-Dimension Hand hadn't come with him.

But though his hand couldn't reach in, if he focused his mind, "thought" of something stored in the Palace of Rest, then reached out and grabbed—he could pull out a "handful."

Ang grabbed a handful of rice seeds. Then he couldn't focus for a long time—only after half an hour could he focus again, and grabbed a handful of elf beans.

Half an hour per grab. One handful per grab. One handful of rice seeds wasn't enough to sow even one-tenth of an acre. Too slow.

Ang sowed the rice seeds, stomped them into the soil, then discovered another problem—he couldn't generate the Instant Death Aura.

What he didn't know was that he had triggered a halo, but the halo activated on his physical body and couldn't be projected over.

Ang sat there stunned for a moment, then didn't care—he'd lived without halos before, and it was the same grind: he'd farmed for over a thousand years; he was used to it.

Footsteps came from behind; Albert walked over and held out a sack. "My lord, out of seeds? I still have some fast-growing vegetable seeds—they'll harvest in a week if watered well. Want to plant these?"

The rice seeds Ang had just grabbed were certainly not enough for these dozens of acres; he quickly took the sack and, out of habit, pulled out a single elf bean and handed it to Albert.

Equal exchange was Ang's habit.

Albert took the bean, puzzled, until Ang said it was food; only then did he put it in his mouth, chewed it like a snack, and swallowed.

One bean wasn't even enough to fill a tooth gap. Albert, unconvinced, opened his mouth to thank Ang—but before he could speak, warmth spread through his belly, a full, satisfying sensation rushing through his body, erasing his hunger entirely.

Why steal burial ornaments? Because he was starving. One bean, and he wasn't hungry anymore? What kind of treasure was this?

Ang sowed and watered, finished tending the dozens of acres, and night had fallen. As a skeleton, he preferred darkness to daylight. Then he noticed another problem: his soul heart seemed slightly larger.

He'd been projected here for half the afternoon. When he first arrived, his soul heart had shriveled nearly to shattering. Now, it had grown—just a little—but that meant something: his physical body's soul energy was being transmitted over.

At that moment, a flash of light streaked across the sky. Ang looked up and saw a strange object hanging in the heavens; the light shot toward it, then was blocked by something.

From the ground, the object looked no bigger than a palm—a man-made device, narrow at one end, thick at the other; the thick end was semicircular, resembling a vertical Heavenly Fortress.

But given its altitude, its true size might be as vast as a Heavenly Fortress.

"What's that?" Ang pointed at the device and asked Albert.

"Oh, that's the sorcerers' Infinite Starlight Burst Array. They say it was built to destroy the Undead King. The Undead Empire keeps attacking it, trying to seize it. Two months ago, it fired once—but missed, hit some unknown place."

Sorcerers? King? Undead Empire? Which one to ask? Annoying. How do you even ask someone a question? How do you get Negrilis over here? Ang scratched his head.