Chapter 415: The Vegetables We Grow Never Go Unsold

Nagelis was thoroughly confused when he heard of the Death Sacrifice, because he couldn't connect a living person's natural decline and death with the concept of Death Sacrifice.

Death Sacrifice doesn't involve sacrificing a living person—it sacrifices the soul.

Death Sacrifice is a method for a living person to reincarnate as an undead being: by offering their own soul, they transform into an undead while retaining their memories from life—Lisa became a lich through Death Sacrifice.

It's not some profound secret art, just that the success rate is low; many who reincarnate do so but lose their memories, or retain them but suffer diminished intellect.

But no matter what, Death Sacrifice never requires killing a living person—what is this mist even talking about?

"Necromancer?" Nagelis asked, puzzled.

"Huh? A dragon? So small? Underdeveloped? Did you sabotage my Death Sacrifice? I thought it was some ignorant rival." The mist paused, then snarled:

"Better yet—a dragon. Flesh and soul are tougher than a human's. Your flesh and soul will be offered to the God of Undeath."

As he spoke, it was Ang's turn to freeze—a soul flame drifted from the mist toward him.

So this really is a follower of the God of Undeath?

Ang waved his hand, dispersing the soul flame—he had no use for it; otherwise, how could it be equal exchange? Would he have to kill the human girl he just revived again?

The mist's face showed hesitation as it muttered: "Huh? What's going on? The God of Undeath rejected my offering? Impossible? Illusion, illusion—never reacted before, just an illusion…"

The mist reassured itself and let out a piercing shriek—soul shock—at Nagelis.

When it finished, Nagelis dug in his ear, feigning annoyance: "Done? Didn't eat? Voice so weak."

"You're fine? Oh right—dragons have high magic resistance. Then endure the Abyss's gnawing!" As the mist screamed, countless solidified, visible specters surged from it, hurling themselves onto Nagelis and biting furiously.

Nagelis sighed: "That's it? That's all? I thought I'd meet a necromancer master—you're just an apprentice?"

He pulled out a clump of grave grass, swishing it left and right—the specters shrieked and fled back into the mist at greater speed.

"You…" The mist realized things were off.

He'd assumed some reckless magic apprentice, heroically interfering with his curse.

Only new apprentices have that much righteousness—everyone else recognizes a curse and steers clear.

So he came to scare them off; maybe they'd exchange cards and he'd know their master. Instead, he found a stunted dragon.

Now two spells failed, ignored completely—what's going on?

Honestly, the necromancer's response was perfectly normal: soul shriek to drive them off, spectral bites to overwhelm them—both meant to instantly repel. He was still preparing Death Sacrifice—no time to play.

He just didn't expect the brass dragon to show zero reaction—was it because dragons have such high magic resistance?

Clearly, scaring them off won't work. He'd have to appear in person—this called for a proper necromancer duel.

The mist glared fiercely at the brass dragon, trying to retreat into the rat hole—but as he moved, he found himself frozen in place.

Nagelis sneered: "If you were stronger, we might've entertained you. But you're this weak? Playing with you isn't even fun."

Nagelis had wanted to observe necromancers of this world, compare them to those of the main plane.

But the two pathetic spells he'd cast were like street performers—wasting time.

Ang reached out toward the mist—hiss! —the entire mist was sucked into his palm, condensing into a ball of soulfire.

Hence why he's weak—Ang isn't even his true body. He's just a projection; this vessel's soul is only at Soul Heart level. Yet this necromancer couldn't resist him at all.

The necromancer was equally stunned—what was this? His consciousness was anchored to the Death Mist—you could disperse the mist, that made sense. But why was his consciousness being pulled out too?

That's like touching a tree, and your head gets cut off when you chop it down—is that something a normal person could do?

Even now, the necromancer still believed he'd encountered an ordinary necromancer.

Ang seized the necromancer's consciousness and left the house, following his sense forward until he reached a high wall.

Such a tall wall meant a noble's estate—right next to John's slum district. No wonder he could follow the Death Mist over to cast his curse.

Ang climbed the wall and peered inside.

The little angel climbed the wall and peered inside. The little zombie climbed the wall and peered inside. Nagelis simply flew up and peered inside. Soon, a row of heads appeared along the wall.

"Who—" Indeed, a noble estate, heavily guarded. Ang's group was quickly spotted. One guard opened his mouth to shout—then a Gilded Rod struck his head.

The tiny Gilded Rod delivered a hammer's impact—the guard collapsed, limp. A cloak materialized out of nowhere, wrapping around Du Luo, who politely tipped his hat to the unconscious guard as an apology.

The guards behind the wall didn't even realize when they were taken down.

Why be polite? The row of heads flipped over the wall.

Following his sense, Ang quickly found a small tombhouse in the corner.

Some noble families loved building family crypts in their estates—this building was the crypt's entrance.

A row of skulls hung at the door, normally with heads bowed in slumber. Sensing movement, their hollow eye sockets ignited with pale blue flames as they lifted their heads.

Du Luo stepped forward to knock them out—but the skulls saw Ang and immediately scrambled down their racks, standing rigidly at attention.

Nagelis finally realized this anomaly—it wasn't the first time. He couldn't help muttering: "What's going on? The skeleton guards at the edge of the Desert Town did the same. These too—do they recognize Ang's identity?"

That doesn't make sense. Ang is just a projection—he looks harmless, even less intimidating than Du Luo. Why are these skeletons afraid of Ang but not Du Luo?

And the necromancer didn't recognize him. Luoke, the lich swordsman, didn't recognize him. Only these lowly skeletons could?

Du Luo thought for a moment: "Maybe because these skeletons are unowned and mindless. They instinctively obey stronger souls."

Unowned undead wandering the wilds have their own way of sensing rank—often more sensitive than other creatures.

Couldn't figure it out, couldn't verify it now—set the question aside. Everyone filed into the tombhouse.

Inside, a wide staircase led underground—built so wide to directly carry coffins down.

At the top of the stairs stood two human guards. They'd just spotted Ang's group and hadn't moved yet—when the Gilded Rod struck them down.

Ang's group entered the crypt without obstruction.

The crypt's layout was the common "U" shape: descending the stairs led to the coffin area, where a stone platform, thigh-high, held coffins for veneration.

The other three sides of the area were the burial niches—square hollows carved from stone, each sized to fit a stone coffin. Now, nearly all were filled, leaving fewer than four empty spaces.

This family only needed four more deaths before they'd have to expand the crypt.

On the coffin platform now lay the body of an old man, dressed in luxurious ceremonial robes. His face was pale, but otherwise he looked as if asleep.

Beside the coffin slumped another man—his attire marked him as a necromancer.

The others stood helplessly, staring at the necromancer, unsure what to do.

They'd been performing Death Sacrifice when the necromancer suddenly shouted: "No! Someone sabotaged the offering! I'll check!"

Then he spat out a mist and left. Soon after, the necromancer—who had been standing—shuddered violently and collapsed.

Everyone knew something had gone wrong—but the situation was beyond their understanding. They couldn't guess what happened, so they just stood there, frozen, until Ang's group arrived.

"Who are you?!" someone shouted.

Ang scanned the room—all standing were ordinary people. He ignored them and released the soulfire in his hand.

The soulfire instantly became mist, frantically rushing into the body of the collapsed necromancer.

The necromancer shot upright, eyes wide with terror, staring at Ang. On the way here, he'd likely realized the gap between them—he immediately rolled to his knees, forehead pressed to the ground, trembling.

Ang casually pulled his consciousness from his body—this method went beyond magic.

The necromancer's action misled the others in the crypt—they gasped, then all knelt: "The… the Necromancer Council?"

"Ah? Necromancer Council? Oh no no no, I didn't know anything! Not my fault!"

The necromancer on the ground stiffened too. His action had misled others—but their cry of "Necromancer Council" suddenly made him understand.

Of course—only the old monsters of the Necromancer Council could casually pull out his consciousness.

"No, we're not from the Necromancer Council. We're just merchants selling vegetables." Nagelis smiled. "What are you doing here?"

Selling vegetables? Not a chance. Everyone rushed to explain.

It was simple: the patriarch of the Rhine family had died. With him gone, the family's status and power collapsed—and he died at the worst possible time.

To resurrect him, they decided to have the necromancer perform Death Sacrifice—but this was illegal.

The Undead Empire forbade artificial methods of sacrifice and reincarnation into undead beings.

"Huh? Why?" Nagelis was baffled. Reincarnating into undead via sacrifice sounds great—why ban it?

The necromancer looked at it strangely, then raised his head: You're from the Council and you don't know?

But the lord had asked—he dared not refuse to answer.

"Because some use living people for all kinds of reincarnation and sacrifice experiments. Others use living people as offerings. Some slaughter living people to intensify the death aura, making sacrifice and reincarnation easier." The necromancer replied.

"Ah, I see. Have you heard of the Reincarnation Altar?" Du Luo suddenly asked.

The necromancer looked confused and shook his head.

After asking more questions, the necromancer answered obediently. Finally, Du Luo asked: "What's the punishment for violating the Council's ban?"

Everyone fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances, helpless.

Only the necromancer turned ashen, trembling: "K… kill."

Du Luo nodded: "Then kill him. For the child you cursed to death."

Ang nodded. The little zombie leapt forward and punched down.

After executing the necromancer, Nagelis turned to the body on the platform: "You risked violating the Council's ban to reincarnate him. You mentioned a 'critical period'—what critical period?"

The others were terrified, legs shaking, unable to speak. If even this obedient necromancer was killed, would they die after answering?

But not answering wasn't an option—undead could make life worse than death. After trembling, someone finally whispered:

"The Northwind Clan of Northwind City is leaving the city and selling the position of city lord. We, the Rhine family, want to bid—but our patriarch suddenly died of heart failure. If we can't reincarnate him within ten days, we'll lose our eligibility to bid."

Nagelis exclaimed: "Bid? Oh right—in this place, city lords and town heads can be bought and sold. But isn't Northwind City an imperial capital? Can its lordship be sold?"

You're from the Council and you don't know? Everyone gave it a strange look, then reluctantly replied:

"That's why we need the patriarch reincarnated. Only families recognized by the city are eligible to bid for the lordship. Only these great families can resolve the city's problems—food, security, order—in a short time."

Nagelis finally pieced it all together: "The Northwind Clan is fleeing and selling the lordship. Only great families can handle the city's problems—so they restrict the bidders. And your patriarch died at the perfect moment—you broke the ban to perform illegal Death Sacrifice to reincarnate him in time to bid, right?"

Everyone nodded.

Nagelis burst out laughing: "Did you ever consider that the necromancer you hired might be terrible?"

The man gave a bitter smile: "We knew. But what could we do? It's already illegal—finding someone willing to break the ban was hard enough. Who cared about his skill level?"

This is also a problem; a powerful necromancer probably wouldn't violate the Necromancer Council's ban for the sake of one family in a remote city.

Before he could ask more, the Silver Coin suddenly clapped his hands and exclaimed: "I get it—the road has been cut off. It must be some family trying to bid for the position of city lord; they want to drive down the price and force their hand."

After speaking, Yinbi turned to Ang and said, "Sir, why don't we join the bidding? The profit is enormous—we'd spend just a little cost and earn an entire city; then we'd never worry about selling our vegetables again."

【103】 After speaking, Yinbi turned to Ang and said, "Sir, why don't we join the bidding? The profit is enormous—we'd spend just a little cost and earn an entire city; then we'd never worry about selling our vegetables again."