Chapter 392: They Actually Have Wisdom

Ang planted vegetables until late at night; Albert had long since collapsed from exhaustion, falling asleep with a heart full of questions—he would probably never understand why the resurrected Holy Spirit had become obsessed with farming.

After finishing his work, Ang found a secluded spot, activated the Earth Splitting Technique with his feet, and quickly sank into the sand and soil, burying himself.

In unfamiliar places, skeletons prefer to bury themselves—it's safer.

Once properly buried, Ang's consciousness retracted, passing through what felt like an endless journey, until he returned to his own body.

"Ku Ba Da! You finally decided to come back? I thought you were dead!" A crowd surged around him, with Negrilis's voice the loudest.

Ang turned to see everyone gathered around him, their faces filled with concern and curiosity.

"How was it? What did you see over there? Why did you stay so long? If you hadn't cast the Death Speed Aura, I'd have sworn you were dead—did you go over there to farm? Did you?!" Negrilis asked rapidly.

The Witch pressed even harder: "Did you see His Majesty? Did you see Him? Is He still alive?"

Ang shook his head: "Lok, soul, shriveled, ash-bone, consciousness extinguished."

Everyone looked baffled, but only Negrilis understood—it translated: "You mean the node you projected to belonged to Lok? His soul shrank, his consciousness vanished? He became an ash-bone skeleton?"

Ang nodded frantically—this was the communication style he knew.

"Lok? Not His Majesty? How did Lok get over there?" the Witch exclaimed.

"Of course His Majesty summoned him—what else could it be? No wonder Lok's body remained in the Palace of Rest—I always thought, if he could return to the Palace of Rest, how could his soul vanish? So his soul was projected to His Majesty's side?" Du Luo slammed his big foot down, frustrated.

The Witch murmured sadly: "Why did His Majesty summon Lok and not me? Am I not His most trusted child?"

The Grand Sage seized the opportunity to wrap an arm around her shoulder and comforted her gently: "Because you have a more important mission—to guard His Majesty's body."

"Oh, right—I almost forgot. My duty is more important." The Witch perked up.

"Then what? Where did you go? What was there? Were there people? How many? Why were you farming? What kind of land? How big was it…?" Negrilis continued, guiding the questioning.

This was Ang's most familiar mode of communication—he didn't have to think of what to say; Negrilis asked, he answered. Even if he spat out words one at a time, Negrilis understood—so comfortable.

After this exchange, everyone was stunned by the information Ang revealed.

"The Infinite Star Force Star Burst Array of the Sorcerers? What sorcerers? Alchemists?"

"Star Burst Array—so that's the weapon that fired star bursts to kill us?"

"The Undead Empire? The Undead Empire built by His Majesty? You didn't ask? You asked nothing? What did you do over there? Farm? Ugh, I want to strangle you."

Negrilis groaned, wishing it could strangle this skeleton: "Project back immediately, find that… Albert, right? Ask him clearly—do you know what to ask? I'll make you a list."

"You, come with me." Ang said.

"Huh? Me? You can bring me along? I tried—I couldn't attach to your consciousness." Negrilis said.

Ang didn't explain—he grabbed the Little Yellow Book and shoved it into the Palace of Rest.

But immediately, Negrilis's consciousness projected onto him, hurriedly saying: "Wait—under these conditions, we might be stuck here a long time. There's no death aura or energy here—leave some for them."

The Witch waved: "No need, no need—the last bag of soul crystals fully restored me. I could survive another thousand years…"

Before she finished speaking, Ang pulled out a dozen bags of soul crystals and tossed them aside. The Witch instinctively lunged onto them, changing her tune: "I'm going to sleep on top of them."

With a vast supply of soul crystals, who would endure hardship? For the past thousand years, the Witch had mostly survived by sleeping.

"Also, when Ang casts the Death Speed Aura, it manifests on the body—maybe other divine arts work the same way. Test them later—watch your side. If any divine effect appears, we can use it for simple communication."

After giving instructions, Ang pressed his hand again on the Black Crystal Body's shoulder, shifted his consciousness, then projected.

After projecting to the other side, Ang focused his mind and reached out.

Unprecedented resistance met his hand—he strained, then pulled out a book of Huangtong.

Negrilis exclaimed in shock: "You pulled something out of the Palace of Rest? How? That's incredible! You're in projection state—this skeleton shouldn't have the ability to penetrate the Palace of Rest!"

Ang replied: "Focus. See it. Grab."

"Do it again for me!" Negrilis urged.

Ang shook his head: "Mental chaos. Half an hour before I can grab again."

"You can't focus now? It takes about half an hour to recover?" Negrilis understood.

Ang nodded. A sense of ease and solidity settled in his mind.

Negrilis looked at the ground: "Yellow desert, loose structure, no water, sparse vegetation—this wasteland probably can't support many people."

Then it looked up, at the massive artificial object hanging alone in the sky: "That's the Infinite Star Force Star Burst Array? Built by sorcerers? Let's go—find Albert and ask what kind of sorcerers."

"By the way, hold me in your hand. Don't speak next—let me talk. Just move your mouth in sync." Negrilis said.

"Okay." Ang quickly agreed—perfect, he didn't have to think of questions.

Walking toward the cave entrance, Albert crept out, clutching his chest tightly, where a bulge swelled.

He ran straight into Ang—his face turned instantly pale, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to his knees: "I… I… I brought some gifts to honor the Lord."

"Oh? So you're into collusion and bribery? You didn't say he only had one greedy lock?" Negrilis whispered.

Ang tilted his head, confused.

Walking up to Albert, the man pulled out what he'd hidden, holding it high above his head—nothing but gold ornaments, no magical resonance, useful only for selling.

Negrilis spoke with authority: "What are you doing with these things?"

Albert shuddered violently, sobbing: "No… no bread left. Hungry. I… I wanted to trade some for bread."

One roar from Negrilis, and Albert confessed everything—no more talk of honoring the Lord.

To add credibility, his stomach growled loudly.

Though Ang had already answered earlier, the Church's pitiful state here still exceeded Negrilis's imagination.

The tombkeeper of the Stone Chamber Mausoleum—reduced to stealing burial goods to sell, just to buy bread?

But those gold ornaments weighed at least a hundred grams—how much bread could that buy?

Thinking of this, Negrilis said: "Lead the way—to buy bread. If you truly only wanted bread, I, in the name of the Lord, forgive you."

Albert's eyes lit up—he scrambled up, thinking he was doomed. Twice caught, and the Holy Spirit hadn't cut him down?

The cave mouth faced east, but Albert led west—through the same desolate desert, only now dotted with low shrubs.

As they walked, Negrilis asked: "Albert, that thing in the sky—you said sorcerers built it. What sorcerers?"

"My Lord, it's a general term for alchemists, elemental sorcerers, potion sorcerers, void sorcerers, and others." Albert replied.

Wait—that system must be enormous.

"And the Church? Why has it become like this? Can't even afford bread for you?" Negrilis asked.

At this, Albert grew sorrowful: "Yes, the Church declines year by year. Fewer believers, fewer offerings—everyone has turned to worshiping the God of Undeath. I don't know the details—I was chosen as tombkeeper since childhood, guarding this secret stone chamber cemetery, never leaving the Yellow Desert."

As they walked and talked, Negrilis gathered much information from Albert.

The most powerful force on this plane is the Undead Empire, founded over a thousand years ago. Back then, no Undead Empire existed—the strongest were the Sorcerer Alliance and the Church of Light.

The Church of Light was formed by devout believers who worshipped Light; the Sorcerer Alliance was founded by atheists. The two stood evenly matched, neither able to defeat the other.

Until one day, the sorcerers invented the Star Burst Array—overnight, all the gods of the Church of Light fell. The Sorcerer Alliance and the Church of Light plunged into a brutal war.

After decades of fighting, one day, corpses rose and attacked the Church of Light.

These corpses multiplied endlessly—everywhere they went, they resurrected all the dead, surging like a tide in all directions.

The Sorcerer Alliance was stunned—they'd never seen organized, animated corpses. It defied their worldview.

But the Church of Light reacted swiftly—as if they knew exactly what it was. All skeletons must be decapitated; all zombies must have their hearts destroyed. Divine Light arts inflicted extra damage on undead creatures.

With walls and passes, humanity held back the undead. From then on, the wilds became the undead's domain; cities overflowed with humans.

Left to starve in overcrowded cities, humanity should have perished en masse—but days later, people approached the city walls: those who hadn't escaped in time.

Carefully pulling them up, they learned a shocking truth—the undead did not attack ordinary people.

Some dared to test it—true. The undead ignored ordinary people. By day, they slept in dry holes; by night, they wandered. Unless you wandered outside at night, you rarely encountered them.

Occasionally, digging a hole and accidentally unearthing them, the skeletons would just stare with hollow eyes, then impatiently dig around, burying themselves again.

The only ones they attacked were those wearing Light armor and robes, using Light divine arts. The moment they touched one, undead would erupt from the ground—swarming from all sides, fearless, relentless, until they overwhelmed their target.

Hearing this, Negrilis slapped its thigh in admiration, whispering to Ang's soul: "Brilliant! His Majesty's move is brilliant—he split humanity and the Church into two groups."

"Not all humans are Church members, nor are they all devout. Either starve trapped in cities, or hide their identity and go out to farm, trade, live. Once they take that step, even the most devout will gradually grow accustomed to life without the Church."

"Over time, they'll realize they can live well without the Church. The Church loses its foundation of faith—never to recover. Brilliant, utterly brilliant." Negrilis praised endlessly.

After walking over an hour, they reached a rock pillar zone—weathered stones standing like pillars on the ground.

Albert carefully examined them, found one pillar, dug from a pile of stones at its base, and pulled out a bundle.

"My Lord, you must take off your armor—it'll attract bounty hunters." As he spoke, he shed his priest's robe and donned hunter's garb, wrapping his head and face, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Then he handed Ang a black robe—but no face covering.

Ang put on the robe. Negrilis asked: "No mask? Won't people be scared seeing you like this?"

"No. Ash-bone priests—covering your face draws attention." Albert said: "My Lord, never reveal any Light-related power or symbol. This place is remote, but bounty hunters are everywhere—be careful."

Skeletons don't attract attention without masks—but do with them? What logic?

Passing through the rock pillars, they soon reached a small town. Entering, Negrilis understood.

Half the living things in the entire town were undead.

At the town gate, two ash-bone skeleton guards leaned on spears, hanging from the railing, boredly pulling off their finger bones, reattaching them, pulling off, reattaching.

Seeing someone approach, they lifted their heads. Seeing Albert, they showed no reaction. Seeing Ang, they snapped alert, scrambling down from the railing, standing at attention.

Only after Ang entered the town did they relax, hanging themselves back up.

Negrilis was stunned: "Ash-bone skeletons this intelligent? They have wisdom? They actually have wisdom?"

Negrilis had only ever seen one intelligent ash-bone skeleton—Ang. Now two gate guards displayed such human-like behavior?

But it confirmed one thing: this Undead Empire was surely built by the Undead Monarch—it saw humans and undead coexisting peacefully in town, just like the World Transit Station before it shut down.

Albert quickly traded the gold ornaments for a large sack of rock-hard black bread, then left town.

"Why buy so much black bread? How long will you eat it?" Negrilis asked.

Black bread was coarse, hard, and vile—but incredibly filling. One piece, roasted and crushed into soup, could feed a family of five for a day.

The sack Albert bought would last him at least two months.

Albert shook his head and smiled: "I'm not eating it myself."

After walking for a few minutes outside town, they reached a cluster of rock caves; a small head popped out of one, spotted Albert, and immediately cried out in delight: "Uncle Albert! Uncle Albert, it's Uncle Albert! Uncle's here, Uncle's safe!"

Except for the first exclamation, everything else was shouted into the cave; soon, five or six children ran out of the cave and rushed toward Albert.

Nagris asked curiously: "You keep taking things from the stone chamber—just to buy food for these kids?"

Albert nodded, ashamed.

"So you still think you're greedy?" Nagris exclaimed.

Albert paused: "Isn't this greed? I took them secretly, and I ate some too."

"Greed? Pfft—you're a saint, a saint," Nagris said.

As Nagris spoke, Ang would mimic the movement of his lips; when Nagris repeated "saint," Ang agreed wholeheartedly and echoed: "Saint."

A holy light shimmered over Albert's body.