Chapter 74

After the Rebirth Altar was abandoned, the cave it occupied was sealed off; under the guidance of an elderly human named Lü Mu, the group arrived before a cave seamlessly blended with the rock and stone.

“Lord Huangtong Dragon, the Rebirth Altar you mentioned is very likely right here. Demons once forbade us from approaching, so I can’t be certain—it’s just a guess, my lord. Are you from Wuxiao City?”

“We came from the World Transit Station,” Nageleisi replied offhandedly.

“World Transit Station?” The distant name stirred no memory in Lü Mu.

Having confirmed a cave lay behind the soil layer, they began digging. Lü Mu eagerly offered: “My lord, I’ll go summon people—this ground has been buried too long to dig easily.”

But when he returned with helpers, a large opening yawned before them. Lü Mu stood frozen, having been gone less than five minutes: “W-what happened?”

Why call people to dig a hole? The little zombie is a humanoid excavation beast—two hoes strapped to its hands, it can dig a grain-storage pit in an hour, effortlessly.

But this ancient soil was too hard to break. An Ge stepped on it a few times; after the Loosening Soil spell took effect, digging became easy.

Inside, they found a Rebirth Altar largely intact, though several of its stone pillars had broken.

The Undead Empire’s construction quality was always excellent—even the World Transit Station was no exception. A thousand years had left little trace; in the human world, even a century or two would reduce such structures to unrecognizable rubble.

Beside the altar, Nageleisi spotted a small teleportation array. Upon closer inspection, fresh energy fluctuations still lingered on it—clearly, this array had been used recently.

“Correct—it’s here. Those two Black Knights came from here. They didn’t use the Rebirth Altar; they arrived via teleportation from another plane. This is a full-function array with a passive beacon. As long as you know its location, you can teleport directly to it, like a deployment array. Those Black Knights know this place well,” Nageleisi said.

After further inspection, it discovered a passage leading to the valley above, clearly forcibly carved out, and freshly so. From those fresh marks, Nageleisi sensed traces of holy light.

“That skeleton was an angel—teleported here? Were those two Black Knights chasing the angel? What’s going on? This is so complicated.” Nageleisi ran through the available data and immediately felt a headache. Why did the Black Knights and the angel seem like allies?

Just as Nageleisi was struggling with this, a disturbance erupted behind it. It turned—and cursed aloud: “Kuabada, what are you doing!”

While it was inspecting, An Ge and the others had already uprighted the broken pillars of the Rebirth Altar—and activated it.

Is this how you do things? It’s like a horse breaks its leg, then you reattach the leg and keep riding!

“You’re insane! The pillars are broken, the energy circuits are severed—just standing them up won’t restart it! What nonsense? Without a closed energy loop, it’ll explode… explode…”

Nageleisi’s voice faded as it watched the uprighted pillars glow. The demonic runes began glowing from the base, slowly extending upward, crossing the fracture point, all the way to the pillar’s top—and no explosion came.

Nageleisi nearly bit its own tongue. It leaned closer in disbelief—the broken pillars were indeed glowing, energy flowing through them. Upon closer inspection, where was the fracture?

“Kuabada! Auto-repair technology! No wonder the Empire’s buildings last so long—they all use auto-repair. As long as they’re powered, they heal cracks automatically.” Nageleisi scraped a line into the altar’s blank surface with its short claw, then watched the mark fade and vanish.

“You knew the altar had auto-repair, didn’t you? That’s why you dared this,” Nageleisi sighed in relief, smiling at An Ge.

An Ge tilted his head blankly and kept feeding soul crystals into the Rebirth Altar.

“Uh… probably didn’t know. Just bold,” Nageleisi grumbled, scratching its head.

The Rebirth Altar uses soul energy. A single activation requires little, but after a thousand years of abandonment—with several pillars broken and countless hidden cracks—An Ge spent several times the normal soul energy to activate it.

A pale blue glow spread from the altar’s center like ripples, reaching the edges and flooding into the six pillars. The pillars lit up simultaneously, responding to one another, weaving a six-pointed star pattern.

The six-pointed star blazed to its peak, then dimmed. The light receded from the pillars, shrinking back toward the altar’s center—expanding, contracting, repeating.

An Ge pulled out the soul of the ghost knight he’d captured outside the control room and placed it into the altar.

The ghost knight and the Black Knights were both artificial undead. The difference: one had intelligence, the other didn’t—like the difference between zombies and wraiths.

The ripples spread to the edges, flooding the six pillars. Because the altar now held a soul, the pillars blazed at full intensity and did not fade. Instead, each emitted a beam of light, striking the ghost knight’s soul.

“Quick—while this is happening, imprint your soul sigil,” Nageleisi said.

The ghost knight’s soul had already been materialized once. It didn’t need to undergo rebirth—only needed more soul energy to regain a physical form and become a ghost knight again.

But this was a transformation process, with risk of failure. Even if successful, its memories would be erased.

But for the ghost knight, it didn’t matter. They had no intelligence to begin with; keeping or losing memories made no difference. The moment memories vanished, the soul was most vulnerable—perfect for imprinting a soul sigil.

At Nageleisi’s urging, An Ge slapped a soul sigil onto the soul. The ghost knight dropped with a thud, rolled twice on the ground, then burst into thick black smoke.

The black smoke twisted and coalesced into a shadow wielding a double-bladed weapon—clearly the same ghost knight An Ge had seen before.

The ghost knight had no intelligence, no memories left—it simply stood there, vacant.

Nageleisi chuckled: “We got a free ghost knight. Come on—I’ll teach you the most practical use for a ghost knight—armor fusion.”

Following Nageleisi’s instructions, An Ge guided the ghost knight to cling to his body, adjusting, refining, fusing.

Both ghost knights and Black Knights could materialize. When they bonded to the surface, they became armor.

But no one used Black Knights for armor fusion—they had intelligence, and attaching one felt unnatural. The ghost knight had no such drawback.

After adjustments, An Ge now wore a grotesque suit of armor, as if lumps of mud had been smeared onto his body and hardened.

Nageleisi covered its face: “Do you have zero aesthetic sense? This is hideous! Adjust it! Make it look better!”

An Ge tilted his head. Not good-looking?

“Stop, stop, stop! Have you ever seen anyone wear armor? Copy what you’ve seen! Any style would be better than this ‘mud’!”

Copy someone else’s? An Ge tilted his head, recalling the armored figures he’d seen, then manipulated the ghost knight to adjust.

Spikes erupted, then hung down, clinging to his body. Another ring of spikes erupted, then hung down—layer upon layer, covering An Ge entirely, especially thickening his shoulders and armpits. Finally, his head was armored with a… straw hat.

“Kuabada! What kind of armor is this!? This is a scarecrow’s straw cloak! Straw cloak!”

“I’ve seen it,” An Ge said—implying: “You told me to copy what I’ve seen.”

“What about heavy sword armor? Or heavy shield armor?”

An Ge tilted his head. “Not good-looking.”

“Hey, not good-looking? Your straw cloak with a straw hat could be… good-looking?” Nageleisi’s voice trailed off, even doubting itself now.

A straw cloak was made of bundled straw tied to the body—yellow and black, with many stalks sticking out. It really wasn’t attractive.

But An Ge’s armor was forged from the ghost knight—its structure was ethereal, fused seamlessly into one, no protruding stalks, and entirely dark, resembling fish-scale armor. It actually looked decent.

Nageleisi hesitated, then signaled An Ge to remove the ugly straw hat and put on the magic-steel helmet Lan had given him earlier. The style instantly unified.

“Much better now,” Nageleisi praised.

An Ge also thought it looked good. He patted the rib area of his chest and abdomen—now he wouldn’t have to worry about being pinned by angel skeletons or Huangtong Dragon’s wings.

The little zombie shuffled over, poked An Ge with a finger, then pointed at itself: “Ao.”

An Ge nodded, activated the Rebirth Altar again, and pulled out the soul of the Black Knight.

But as soon as he tossed it into the altar, the soul screamed and tried to flee: “No! Don’t ritualize me! I surrender! I surrender!”

Surrender? An Ge tilted his head. He didn’t need surrender—he just needed armor for the little zombie. He grabbed the Black Knight’s soul and tossed it back in.

“Don’t ritualize me! I’ll agree to any condition! Please! Soul Oath! I offer you a soul oath! Don’t consume me!” The Black Knight howled, scrambling toward the altar’s edge. A soul oath flame erupted instantly.

Seeing its desperate cries, Nageleisi felt pity: “Forget it, just accept its soul. It’s equivalent to imprinting a soul sigil anyway. It’s already a Black Knight—whether it passes through the altar or not makes no difference.”

“Yes, yes, no difference! Accept my soul! Let me armor-fuse, let me dematerialize—any pose, any way!” The Black Knight’s tone was utterly subservient.

No difference? Fine. An Ge accepted the soul oath.

The Black Knight exhaled deeply, trembling: “Are you treating prisoners this brutally now? No chance to surrender? Not even asking a single question before trying to ritualize us? Don’t you want any valuable intel?”

Nageleisi chuckled: “Do you have any intel about gardening? If not, it’s not valuable.”

The Black Knight stared blankly at Nageleisi for a long moment: “Gardening? You’re serious?”

Nageleisi nodded. He’d finally figured out An Ge’s nature: unless it concerned gardening, nothing was valuable. Even the Rebirth Altar’s secrets were less useful than fertilizer.

Though half-skeptical, the Black Knight said: “Actually, I do have one piece of gardening-related intel.”