Chapter 445: Oh no, the lord slipped inside!

Back at the North Wind City governor's mansion, Anthony stared at the several delicate alchemical hearts and asked: "Are these your soul containers?"

"Yes, this is mine, this is Silver Coin's, this is Locks's—they hold all our memories. If our soul link breaks, they activate and resurrect us," Du Luo said.

Before delivering vegetables, Du Luo had crafted soul containers for everyone for safety's sake; he already had one, so he only needed to make two new ones.

Silver Coin didn't care, but Locks clung to hers tightly, ecstatic: "Is this for me? Really? Really for me? A soul container—a lich's soul container? Can I really have it? I haven't done anything worthy, it's not right—"

She said it wasn't right, but held it tighter than ever.

This was a lich's soul container—what did that mean? It meant a second life, an insurance policy that let you be reborn even after death.

Though Locks had known lich soul containers existed, she'd never imagined she'd own one. She was just a minor lich from a remote village—her entire worth didn't equal one soul container.

Du Luo sighed: "Fine, fine, it's yours. Don't give it back to me."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Locks quickly hid it behind her back, beaming—these big thighs were thick indeed.

Du Luo turned to Anthony: "Now we just need to find a safe place to store them. Want one? I can make you one."

Anthony smiled and shook his head: "No need—I've got a holy substitute body and backup vessels."

He wasn't a lich. Why use a lich soul container to reincarnate? Better to stay alive.

Everyone tucked away their soul containers and sat in a circle for a meeting.

Anthony said: "The intelligence we gathered shows the Sorcerer's Alliance doesn't have enough space to grow vegetables—I suspect they don't even have enough room to grow grain."

"The food they distributed for relief was a block-shaped cake they call Convenient Rice Cake. Behind their backs, we call it Snot Cake. Tiny, but filling—one piece satisfies a full meal, similar to our rapeseed cakes."

As he spoke, Anthony pulled out a piece of Convenient Rice Cake.

Negril took a small bite and said: "Tastes fine—not bad. Why call it Snot Cake? Is it made of snot? Whose snot tastes this good?"

Everyone except Ang and a few others looked disgusted: "Lord Negril, can you stop describing it so disgustingly?"

Anthony explained: "According to the goblins, they've eaten this rice cake daily since childhood—they're sick of it. Seeing it feels like seeing snot. Plus, eating it long-term causes constipation."

Negril slapped his waist: "I get it—so they're willing to pay high prices for fresh vegetables."

Anthony shook his head: "Paying high prices is one thing. The other thing is—they're not short on magic crystals."

Du Luo added: "All their mechanical airships and vehicles run on magic crystals. They have so many they can trade them for vegetables—but they don't even have space to grow vegetables. Where are they digging up these crystals?"

"Either from the ground, or from other planes—do you think they're digging them out of the sky?" Negril said.

Silver Coin, Anthony, and Du Luo all perked up: "From the sky?!"

…

No matter where the magic crystals came from, the Sorcerer's Alliance never lacked them. They paid for goods with magic crystals, powered their constructs with them, even paid for drinks with them—and soon became everyone's favorite mark.

The entire population of North Wind City dragged their goods to the city outskirts to sell to these generous "marks."

The Sorcerer's Alliance offered prices at least three to ten times higher than normal purchase rates—but they only bought raw materials or semi-finished goods.

For example, wood: they bought logs and planks, but not finished furniture or walking sticks. Minerals were the same—they bought raw ore and refined metals, but not crafted items.

Beyond these, they also bought people.

Any sentient being under ten years old—human or goblin—they'd take, regardless of origin. They called it "providing a better upbringing," but in truth, it was human trafficking—and they paid well.

North Wind City's slave traders went mad, scouring the world for "merchandise," even using teleportation arrays to transport "cargo." Huge numbers of slaves under ten were shipped to North Wind City via teleportation.

According to slave traders, it wasn't just North Wind City—everywhere else the Sorcerer's Ladder had descended, slave traders were clearing out "inventory."

For slave traders, the most valuable were strong men and young women. The elderly and children were losses. The sick and disabled were usually disposed of.

Now the Sorcerer's Alliance was willing to take all child slaves—no need to feed and raise them before profit—so everyone went berserk.

But North Wind City was strange: only slave traders were pushing hard. Elsewhere, parents and relatives brought their children themselves—even giving them away for free to the Sorcerer's Alliance.

The entire plane was starving. Better to hand your child to the Sorcerer's Alliance than watch them starve to death.

"That's caused oversupply—we can't even raise prices anymore, you damn poor bastards," muttered a slave trader who'd visited other Sorcerer's Ladders, just as Anthony came by to gather intel.

The next morning, someone found the slave trader drowned in his own urine in the alley behind the tavern.

John, temporarily acting as security captain, inspected the body and declared firmly: "Drunk, passed out while urinating, nose and mouth submerged in the urine puddle—suffocated. Anyone know him? Anyone know him? No one? Then take him away. One unidentified drunk male corpse. Burn after seven days unclaimed."

Silver Coin and Anthony kept gathering the Sorcerer's Alliance's procurement data, deducing many key insights—but that was all they could do.

The Sorcerer's Ladder chose its landing points carefully—all were defensible passes. North Wind City, for example, was bisected by the North Wind Mountains to the southeast, with desert covering the entire territory, and only one main city.

Once the undead guards in the main city were cleared, no large-scale undead could appear here.

Even the Sorcerer's Alliance had deployed airships and constructs to repair broken roads—meaning even if large undead forces came, they weren't worried about them entering North Wind City via any single route.

"Having power makes you this confident," Anthony muttered while analyzing the intel.

Du Luo shrugged: "What can you do? Their Annihilation Orbs are too powerful. Even if you cram the main road of North Wind City with undead, they're just walking into death."

"How's your research on the Annihilation Orb going?" Anthony asked.

"Finished. Its range is huge—any undead within a hundred-meter radius takes damage. The closer to the blast, the worse the impact. I tested it with several soul hearts—they couldn't withstand it," Du Luo said.

Soul hearts were high-tier undead—golden skeletons, iron-skinned zombies, lich kings, and undead saints all possessed only soul hearts. Du Luo himself only had one—meaning he couldn't survive it either.

"Can it be resisted?" Anthony asked.

"A little, yes—but if you're hit directly, no. And they never throw just one Annihilation Orb," Du Luo shrugged.

Anthony's head throbbed. With such a devastating weapon targeting undead, direct confrontation was foolish. How could he fulfill Ang's orders?

Just as Anthony was at a loss, Silver Coin rushed in, frantic: "Bad news! Bad news! The lord has slipped inside the Sorcerer's Ladder!"

"What?!" Anthony and Du Luo both leapt up: "What happened? How did he get in? What's going on?"

The story was long—and it was all because the little angel was too cute.

Today was their third trip to deliver vegetables to the Sorcerer's Alliance—this time, six thousand jin of vegetables.

To meet the Sorcerer's Alliance's "cleanliness" requirements, Ang always came along, hiding in the cart outside the city and filling the cargo compartment there to minimize contamination en route.

It was the third time. Anthony and Du Luo were too busy to accompany them, so Silver Coin led the team alone.

While waiting to deliver, a squad of classical Guangming female priests arrived for their shift change. Seeing the little angel idly kicking stones beside the cart, they all rushed over, excited.

They bombarded her with questions, pinching her cheeks, stroking her head—making the little angel howl in fury, glaring at their beautiful faces.

Before she could strike, Ang picked her up.

"Your daughter is so adorable. Hello, we're Guangming priests. I'm Monica, delighted to meet you," said a beautiful priestess in classical robes, her bare neck and collarbones exposed, smiling at Ang.

Ang tilted his head.

"Hehe, won't you introduce yourself? What's your name?" Monica smiled.

"Ang," Ang replied, using his alias as usual.

"And you?" Monica crouched down, eyes smiling like crescents: "Sweet little girl, what's your name?"

"Aow~" The little angel, lifted up, knew she couldn't hit them. She whimpered pitifully.

"Aow? That's… unusual. May the Light bless you," Monica cast a holy light, brushing it over the little angel's forehead.

It was a blessing—Monica adored this adorable girl.

But the moment her hand touched the little angel, her expression changed instantly. She widened her eyes, staring at the child, then at her own hand.

Her companions noticed her shock and asked: "What's wrong?"

"Holy affinity! Holy affinity! She has the potential to be a Holy Maiden!" Monica exclaimed.

Negril, projecting onto Ang, nearly laughed out loud—Holy Maiden potential? This was a six-wing archangel. She *was* Holy Light itself!

But these classical priests didn't know that. Hearing Monica's words, they all surged forward in excitement.

Ang tensed, pulling the little angel behind him, blocking the women who seemed ready to snatch her.

Monica shouted: "Back! Back! Don't scare her!"

After calming her companions, Monica said: "Sorry, Mr. Ang. They mean no harm—they're just overexcited. How about this: you and little Aow come with us, have something to drink and chat, okay?"

Ang turned to look at Silver Coin.

Silver Coin nodded—he realized these priests held high status, far above the "Wrench" who managed vegetable procurement.

Wrench had already sent him pleading, threatening glances—as if to say: Deal with these ladies fast, or we all die.

It was just a chat. Probably no danger.

Ang carried the little angel and followed Monica's group toward their workplace.

Monica and the others winced occasionally, turning back: "Mr. Ang, carrying her like that must be uncomfortable. Why not put little Aow down?"

Put her down? She'll hit you…

Ang set the little angel down and solemnly warned: "Aow!"

"Aow~" The little angel nodded dejectedly.

Monica hurriedly said: "Don't worry, don't worry. Here, let me treat you to sweet water." She reached out to take the little angel's hand.

The little angel, having just been warned by Ang, reluctantly let her take it.

Negril whispered in Ang's mind: "Has the little angel shrunk again? She looks shorter than before."

Ang nodded. As her power grew, the little angel's body shrank. Now she was the true height of a six-wing archangel—about one meter forty, even shorter than Luna.

Arriving at the healing area, the priests had come to relieve the previous shift—but upon hearing "holy affinity," the entire previous team rushed over, abandoning shift change, surrounding the little angel to pinch and squeeze.

Clearly fond of her, they pulled out snacks and candies, offering them to the little angel. Monica even took a clean cup, poured in water, then cast a purification spell.

Normally, they'd never waste divine magic on patients—but now they purified water for her.

After purification, Monica added dried fruit slices and sugar. A delicious sweet fruit tea was ready.

Negril whispered: "Fruit and sugar are expensive here. They probably don't even drink this tea themselves."

Indeed—they didn't. Monica made only one cup. The others drank plain water.

The little angel wasn't stupid—just temperamental. She realized they meant no harm. She took the cup and gulped it down greedily.

Seeing her accept their kindness, everyone smiled and crowded in for more cuddles.

After a while, they remembered Monica's words about holy affinity and lined up to bless her, touching her head to feel the holy affinity firsthand.

"Where is the one with holy affinity?" A rich, resonant voice rang out from outside the crowd.

"Lady Mo Nika!" The crowd parted as a voluptuous beautiful woman entered.

She was tall and curvaceous, her figure unmistakable even beneath the loose priestess robe, yet a large birthmark and a scar across her face marred her beauty.

"So adorable! Do you have affinity with Holy Light? May Holy Light bless you." Mo Nika smiled warmly, crouched down, and summoned Holy Light to press against the little angel's forehead.

The little angel pouted; she was getting annoyed. Just as Mo Nika crouched, their eyes were level. The little angel summoned Holy Light and pressed her hand directly onto Mo Nika's scar.