Chapter 60: What is Your Divine Skill

Feilin carried a small bucket full of death breath liquid, full of joy, and floated toward Ang's Sky Pit. This was the death breath liquid he had blown out by forcibly accelerating the Wind of Rest for three nights using magic, ten times more than the output in the camp that day.

Of course, he was also quite tired. He spent the whole night accelerating the Wind of Rest. Even if Lord Ang had more Never-Drying Spring Stones, it wouldn't be easy to produce so much.

With sufficient death breath liquid, Feilin soon researched some of its functions, such as repairing and filling bones, toughening zombie skin, accelerating soul growth, catalyzing Soil of Breath, etc. It was almost an enhanced version of the Wind of Rest, only the effect was better and the damage was lower.

The Wind of Rest would blow to the soul, but the death breath liquid wouldn't. As long as the soul wasn't soaked in it, it would be fine even if it were used for a bath.

Entering the Sky Pit, from afar, he saw the angel skeleton, the little zombie, and the Huang Tong Dragon all soaking in a large leather bucket.

"What are you doing? Aren't you afraid of rotting?" Angel skeleton soaking in a bath, Feilin could accept, but the little zombie and the Huang Tong Dragon were liches. Soaking in water would cause them to rot.

Naigelis's long neck hung on the edge of the bucket. Hearing this, it raised its eyelids, lifted its little claws, and the death breath liquid flowed down through its toes.

Feilin's eyes widened. He pounced to the side of the bucket and looked inside, screaming: "You really use it to soak in a bath? Where did so much death-energy liquid come from?"

Naigelis didn't even lift its head, lifted its claws, and pointed to the top of the Sky Pit, asking lazily: "What are you here for? Anything?"

Feilin's hand holding the wooden bucket shrank back. He was too embarrassed to take it out: "I came to see the lord, and by the way, report some situations. I'll go find the lord first."

Naigelis shook its little claws, feeling so comfortable that it was too lazy to even reply.

Is it really that comfortable? Feilin looked at the small bucket in his hand, considering whether to go back and use it to soak in a bath too. However, with his speed, it wouldn't be so easy to save enough for a bath.

Coming to the top of the pit, Feilin saw Ang who was digging soil. This Lord Watcher was waving a hoe like a skilled old farmer, digging a pit in the ground, piling the soil on both sides, forming a mud dam higher than the ground.

"My lord, may your soul be at peace, may I ask what you are doing?" Feilin greeted.

Ang tilted his head, not knowing how to answer, so he simply didn't answer and continued digging the pit.

Feilin was already used to Ang's reaction and didn't take it to heart. He walked to the top of the soil pile and looked, and the situation he saw made him lose his composure, and he slipped and fell down.

Only seeing the ground dug out by Ang into a large fan-shaped concave pit, the arc edge of the fan was flush with the ground, and then gradually deepened and shrank. At the center angle, it was already half a person deep. The dug-out soil was piled on the two edge lines, making the edges as high as a person.

The arc edge of the fan was facing the direction where the Wind of Rest blew, and then it converged toward the center angle, creating a larger air volume.

"How could I not think of it? How could I not think of it? Such a simple method, how could I not think of it? I foolishly cast magic for three nights." Feilin was ashamed and annoyed, making up his mind not to leave. Whether he could mix into the enjoyment of soaking in death-energy liquid depended on how thick his face was.

Night fell, the Wind of Rest blew. Hiding in the leeward cave, Feilin watched the Wind of Rest blow violently, the Never-Drying Spring Stone dripping down death-energy liquid, finally converging into a small stream, flowing into the large pit in front of Ang.

This kind of efficiency was truly too high. In less than twenty minutes, a bucket was filled. Ang transferred it into the Palace of Rest for the first time, watching it dissipate rapidly.

For ten hours, Ang repeated this, transferring one bucket after another, ensuring the bucket was always empty.

For a full ten hours, nearly one cubic meter of death breath liquid was transferred into the Palace of Rest.

The Palace of Rest seemed to have some changes, but he couldn't see where the changes were.

Ang didn't care either, continuing at night, for a full eight nights, a full nine cubic meters or so of death breath liquid were transferred into the Palace of Rest.

From the third day, Ang felt the change. The dissipation speed of the death breath liquid began to decrease. Originally, it might take three minutes to dissipate completely, but now it took three and a half minutes. By the fourth day, it became ten minutes.

By the eighth day, a bucket of death breath liquid couldn't dissipate in an hour. This was already about the same as the dissipation speed in the outside world. The little zombie and the others soaked in a bath for an hour, and the death breath liquid was almost dissipated. It seemed that the concentration of death aura in the Palace of Rest had reached saturation again.

Then, a huge flame ignited in the main hall of the Palace of Rest, and a beam of light soared into the sky, drawing an arc, and slammed into Ang's consciousness with lightning speed.

With a "Teng," the Ang main body in the outside world ignited with pitch-black flames.

Naigelis, who sensed the abnormality, crawled and rolled back its consciousness, letting the Huang Tong Book main body in the Palace of Rest fly to Ang's side, asking urgently: "What's wrong with you? Is there anything wrong? What happened?"

Ang pointed toward the main hall of the Palace of Rest.

Naigelis then noticed the flame on the main hall: "Eh, undead fire? The main flame of the dead fire is ignited? Just this?"

The undead fire ignited in the underground city's undead temple is the source of the undead faith. People worship it, and their pious faith will make it flourish.

However, no matter how many undead fires there are, their ultimate source is only one, and that is this main flame. It is the source of all undead fires and the ultimate source of the faith of "immortality."

However, the undead fire of the undead temple is ignited, and whether there is a main flame actually doesn't matter. As long as the faith is sufficient, ordinary undead fire can also become a main flame.

"Is there only this kind of undead fire main flame?" Naigelis asked.

If there was only this kind of change, Naigelis would feel very disappointed. It saw Ang burning all over, and it was black flames, and the movement was very big.

"Also, beam of light, here." Ang pointed to the undead fire main flame, and then pointed to himself.

After listening to Ang's description, the Huang Tong Book snapped shut, saying jealously: "That's a divine grid. Alright, you are not a pseudo-god now. You have a divine grid. Generally, after mastering a divine grid, you will awaken some divine skills consistent with faith. What is your divine skill? Dog-shit luck halo?" ===== CHAPTER 61 =====

After hearing Ang's description, the brass book snapped shut and said jealously: "That is a Godhead. Alright, you are no longer a pseudo-god; you have a Godhead. Generally, after mastering a Godhead, one will awaken some divine skills consistent with their faith. What is your divine skill? A 'Dogshit Luck' aura?"