Chapter 438

The Dead Silence Mist has little destructive power, but it is often the prelude to many terrifying spells.

A mournful wailing—wuuu—wuuu—echoed through the mist. Lepinia remembered her elders' advice and remained utterly still, even slowing her breathing as much as possible; she was a great swordsman, capable of holding her breath for over ten minutes.

Faint shadows began to drift through the mist—massive spirits glided past, their movements sounding like infants crying, sending chills down the spine.

One spirit circled around her, passing once around her body.

Lepinia did not move, eyes open, but firmly refused to meet the spirit's gaze.

The spirit abandoned her, wailing as it drifted away.

A larger shadow appeared in the mist, slowly drifting toward her; it held a massive scythe, floating like Death itself.

An even greater, indistinct shadow passed overhead—only its towering silhouette, like a city wall, could be seen. Lepinia's spine turned cold; a fierce fear surged within her—the fear of giants—terrified that this colossal entity might lower its head.

This continued for over ten minutes, until the Dead Silence Mist finally dispersed. Lepinia exhaled deeply, feeling her entire body soaked in sweat.

More people on the wall fared worse than her—some collapsed straight to the ground; once-arrogant nobles now looked as if they'd been ravaged, faces ashen, drenched in sweat.

Just one Dead Silence Mist had terrified everyone this badly—if the Temple of the Undying chose to act, not a soul in the city would dare even consider resistance.

So they really were from the Temple of the Undying—and not just any priests, but high-ranking ones… perhaps even the Grand High Priest?

Thinking of this, Lepinia dropped the rope and prepared to descend from the wall.

"Countess, Countess Lepinia, please wait!" The Grain Merchants' Guild Master, a shabby old human man, hurried over, flattery dripping from his voice:

"Countess, our guild has just received a new shipment of cheap grain. Didn't you want to buy grain a few days ago? Perfect—this new batch can be transferred to you at cost. I'll have it delivered to your estate immediately. Please accept it, Countess."

Lepinia froze. Not just the day before, but for days now, she had been trying daily to buy grain from the guild—each time, the old man's men had stalled her with one excuse after another.

She couldn't even get much old grain; she'd had to dip into her own family's reserves to feed the refugees, spending without replenishing, leaving her anxious and strained.

Though she pitied the refugees outside, she couldn't possibly give away all her domain's grain and let her own family starve.

They'd refused to sell grain at every turn before—now suddenly offering her new grain at cost? New? Like she'd believe that.

And he'd never called her "Countess" before—either used her name outright, or mockingly added "female" before it, as if "female countess" weren't a countess at all.

If he weren't so old, she'd have beaten him senseless, Lepinia muttered bitterly.

Grain is grain—don't refuse it, Lepinia quickly said: "Then I'm deeply grateful, Elder Guild Master. I'll have payment prepared at once."

"No rush, no rush—who could doubt the Countess's honor? You even have ties to the Temple of the Undying. We'd be honored if you'd speak well of us before the Temple's great lords." The old man pleaded.

So that was why—her contact with Ang and the others had been obvious to everyone. And now, they came crawling to her.

And they'd offered grain—right now, grain was a strategic asset, unobtainable even with gold, let alone at cost. This old man had truly bled himself dry.

Lepinia immediately replied: "No problem. But I can't guarantee how the lords will react—they were furious. They spent half a day aiding refugees outside, and not a single person from the city came to pay respects."

Not just the old man—all the mercenary captains, guild heads, and merchants who had gathered around turned pale.

One of them, thinking fast, cried: "It's not true! It was that demon Tug who blocked us! Otherwise we'd have rushed to pay homage to the Temple's great lords! Please, Countess, plead our case—we've already prepared all the relief supplies. We'll send them out of the city right now!"

"Yes, yes! It was all that demon Tug! He's to blame!" Since Tug was already dead, he couldn't rise to object.

"Good. I'll convey your sentiments," Lepinia said, then leapt down from the wall, secretly pleased—surely the Temple's great lords would appreciate this gift.

…

Negrilis and the others were gathered around Ang. Honestly, they'd been terrified by that massive shadow.

"What was that? Did you summon it?" Negrilis asked.

"It… it looked like His Majesty," Du Luo said.

In essence, the Undying King resembled that black-crystal skeleton—but not truly. Especially for undead, they perceive the world through soul vibrations, divided into active and passive forms.

Active: the soul emits vibrations, which bounce off objects and return to be sensed.

Passive: vibrations emitted by an entity possessing a soul are sensed directly.

His Majesty's soul vibration was terrifying. To most undead, he appeared as a vast shadow, radiating overwhelming pressure. Wherever he was, all other soul vibrations were drowned out—leaving only his presence, like the sun blotting out every star.

So in the minds of those who'd seen him, like Du Luo, His Majesty was not the black-crystal skeleton, but a colossal shadow—the skeleton merely his vessel.

The shadow that had just passed through the mist was the very one Du Luo had seen before—but he dared not be certain, because Ang summoning the Undying King was absurd.

Ang said: "Illusion. Manifest."

He had merely manifested the shadow he'd seen in his mental space, having noticed that the Dead Silence Mist easily manifested things.

"So it was just an illusion? Scared the hell out of me," Negrilis sighed in relief—he'd nearly died of fright.

Anthony and Du Luo exchanged glances. Was it really just an illusion? Then why add "manifest"?

The Master usually spoke sparingly—every word carried layers of meaning. Only Negrilis could sometimes guess his intent. Was "manifest" added for no reason?

But since Negrilis hadn't sensed anything else, perhaps there really wasn't any other meaning…

Lepinia's voice rang from afar: "Great Lords, Lepinia requests an audience."

She didn't rush forward as she had before—she stopped at a distance and called out loudly. This was proper etiquette toward superiors. Last time, she'd mistaken Ang and the others for frauds.

Anthony hurried to meet her. After their conversation, both Anthony and Lepinia laughed happily—joy filled the air.

…

Under Anthony's leadership, with Bai Yin's assistance and Lepinia's full cooperation, Anthony seized control of Derog City in less than two days.

He gathered every influential figure in the city, forming a provisional governing committee with Lepinia at its head, requiring each faction to contribute personnel and funds.

Those with money contributed money; those with strength contributed strength. Profits were distributed proportionally to contributions.

He deliberately paired two factions with conflicting interests and stirred them into internal strife, while subtly favoring the weaker side—maintaining a delicate balance of conflict without rupture, mutual supervision.

He generously distributed previously inaccessible benefits, driving them into frenzied cooperation.

He also threw out alluring claims: "The Temple of the Undying has another name—the Eternal Life Temple," "Worship the Undying God—you can't die even if you try," "Losing limbs, aging, rotting? Too easy. You can't even die—why fear them?"

These words drove the old men, old women, impotent males, and cowards into a frenzy—they wished the Undying God would descend immediately and grant them eternal youth.

Especially when Anthony demonstrated his power by healing a long-standing scar on Lepinia's arm—this confirmed the truth of his words.

A thousand-year-old con artist and Grand High Priest manipulating human hearts was effortless. The entire committee was now completely under his control.

A city of 100,000 could easily shelter thousands of refugees—especially now, with depleted garrison forces, and the refugees left behind were precisely the young, strong, and unattached.

Anthony selected two thousand and locked them in barracks for closed training, funded by the committee, but placed command under Lepinia. The rest were dispersed into the police force and government departments, like sand mixed in.

As a result, Lepinia effectively became the city's governor—but without full authority, since the committee watched her closely; she couldn't do anything wildly out of line.

"Brilliant! No wonder he's an old con artist—now, even if he leaves Derog City, Lepinia can't seize power. Others won't allow it."

"But without absolute authority, Lepinia can't act on certain things—like external invasions or major construction projects."

"Precisely. That's the point. She'll have no choice but to come to Anthony."

"Ah, I see. Hmph, no wonder he's an old con artist."

After reaching consensus, Bai Yin pulled out contracts and sacks: "These are land deeds 'confiscated' by Lord Anthony, and others donated by believers. These bags contain seeds of crops commonly grown in Derog. We offer them to you, Lord. Hope you like them."

Negrilis rolled his eyes. These people had all learned how to flatter now.

…

Among the land deeds Bai Yin delivered, many were wastelands—cultivating them was uneconomical. But for Ang, it was no problem.

The little angel swung the Earthly Sacred Hammer, smashing the ground's rubble—each strike turned stone to powder.

The little zombie followed behind, digging furiously. Having learned Earth Charge, it now connected with earth elements with every strike, making the work effortless.

Ang examined the soil composition and selected suitable crops.

Different crops required different nutrients—even deserts could grow grass and mushrooms, given the right seeds. No land was truly unsuitable.

Besides, even without soil, wasn't there soilless rice?

Ang cheerfully scattered seeds, then activated the Rapid Death Aura Stone—crops grew wildly.

All harvested crops, except those saved as seeds, were stuffed into the Divine Domain.

The Divine Domain was a sterile space—no living thing could survive inside. It was immaculate; even food could be processed there.

Round and Round the Great Demon lay quietly within the Divine Domain, surrounded by mountains of grain and vegetables.

Ang piled the harvested grain beneath the giant iron ball, injected the soul of the hamster skeleton into it, and set it running.

Round and Round the Great Demon swayed left and right under the hamster skeleton's propulsion, crushing the grain beneath it, effortlessly turning it to powder.

"Pfft—you use a Shou Shen-class construct to grind flour?" Negrilis grumbled.

It didn't just grind rice—it ground vegetables and elf beans too. After grinding everything into powder and mixing it, Ang had stopped bothering to shape them into balls, since Du Luo had designed a mold for him.

A large lump of mixed rapeseed cake dough was shoved into the mold, pressed down, then pulled horizontally, then vertically—the dough inside was neatly divided into fist-sized squares.

Ang then used elemental repulsion to expel some water elements—the dough solidified into blocks of rapeseed cake. After all, it was all food—did square or round matter?

As he planted and produced, the original vegetables were entirely consumed—but his Divine Domain was filled again, packed solid with rapeseed cakes.

"All mixed with elf beans?" Anthony stared at the overflowing Divine Domain, stunned: "One piece per person—that's enough to feed the entire city."

Ang nodded: "Eat it."

Only by eating could they accumulate soul flames, making the sapling grow faster.

Anthony hesitated: "Eating it is wasteful. One piece fills you, gentle on the stomach, nutritionally rich—it's strategic material. With this, spreading the glory of the Undying will be easier."

Ang nodded. It was acceptable. Soul flames offered by Undying believers burned more fiercely than those absorbed from the Divine Core.

But not everyone was an Undying believer. Yet every person who ate the rapeseed cake had to offer soul flames to the Divine Core. With enough people, the total would still be substantial.

"Good, good," Anthony muttered, rubbing his hands together, clearly thinking of something.

Anthony prepared a warehouse and had Ang transfer all the rapeseed cakes from the Divine Domain into it.

Two days later, Ang continued farming in the wild, while Anthony led a group dragging over a dozen bound men forward.

Negrilis asked, baffled: "Who are these people? Why bring them here?"

Anthony smiled: "I lured them out with rapeseed cakes. I brought them here to test something, Lord. Can you perceive faith in the Light? If you can—should we take over the Church of Light?"