Chapter 875

Ang's will was ejected toward the end of the void. At first, countless seven-colored lights flew past behind him; his will seemed to be traversing a seven-colored tunnel. This was a phenomenon unique to rapid movement.

But soon, this light disappeared, leaving only pitch black. If it weren't for Ang feeling that the distance from his main body was getting further and further, he would easily have thought he wasn't moving.

Is this the energy-level Great Desert?

Ang suddenly had a deeper understanding of the energy-level Great Desert. There really was nothing, not even the phenomenon unique to rapid movement.

After a long time, Ang still didn't feel anything, which meant he was still in the "desert." He silently calculated the distance in his heart; he had already crossed the distance of the anchors at both ends of at least sixteen chaotic planes.

You have to know, one anchor alone was 160 million kilometers. Adding both sides together, plus the width of the chaotic plane itself, the distance between the anchors at both ends was at least 400 million kilometers.

But now, he had already crossed sixteen times that distance and still didn't feel anything.

Seventeen... nineteen... thirty... Ang felt his power constantly being consumed, and he actually started to feel a sense of exhaustion.

He wouldn't die, would he? Would his consciousness perish if it was too far from his main body? Was this how the consciousness of the primordial divine light dissipated back then?

Ang stopped. Everything around him was pitch black, the kind of pitch black where you couldn't distinguish up, down, left, or right. There was nothing, and he couldn't perceive anything.

However, what made him feel at ease was that after stopping, his power started to recover slowly. A continuous stream of faith energy was projected into his will.

Even he himself was struggling a bit; the King wouldn't be shouting for help because he was ejected too far, would he?

No, no. Ang hurriedly shook his head to shake off this guess. He was only projecting his will, while the King was ejected with his entire soul. He wouldn't perish because he was too far from his main body.

But, if there was no power projection from the main body, would the King perish because his soul energy was exhausted?

Ang was rarely there letting his imagination run wild because it was too quiet all around. Ang couldn't see anything and couldn't do anything. Besides letting his thoughts wander, he couldn't do anything, and he couldn't even plant crops.

So boring. Not waiting for a full recovery, after accumulating a bit of power, Ang continued to fly forward.

Just like that, flying for a while and stopping for a while, flying for a while and stopping for a while. He didn't know how long it had been when Ang suddenly sensed the King's aura. The aura was like a mark, clearly pointing to a certain position.

Ang had been driven to the point of wanting to sleep by this state. He wished he could sink into a deep sleep for a period of time and then fly over in one go after his power fully recovered, but he didn't know if the King would still have "life" by then.

So after sensing the aura, he couldn't care about that much anymore. He immediately projected toward the mark left by the King, and then his will went black.

"Pa!" Ang was kicked awake. Accompanying it was a string of cursing: "Hurry up and get to work, slacking off all day. If parts weren't so expensive, I would have dismantled you."

Ang looked up and saw a "human." Why the quotation marks? Because Ang couldn't be sure. Although the other party looked exactly like a human, their body was filled with a force of chaos.

Ang tilted his head and started to examine himself. His will was actually attached to a construct? Embedded in his chest was a black crystal. Chaotic black crystal?

In this black crystal, Ang sensed the King's aura.

Did the King mark this black crystal? Where was the King?

Ang was full of doubts, and at the same time, he raised his head to examine his surroundings.

Looking around, as far as his eyes could see, there were all low shrubs, row upon row, extending to the end of the horizon.

Between the shrubs, every once in a while, there was a construct exactly like him, busy tending to the shrubs, pruning branches, and picking fruits.

What these shrubs bore weren't fruits, but red crystals.

This seemed to be a farm where constructs grew red crystals.

Ang glanced at the red crystals and discovered that they were filled with the force of chaos. Could the force of chaos actually be grown?

The scene before him overturned Ang's cognition. The force of chaos was clearly the exclusive power of the Ancient Divine Light, making matter and energy return to disorder. It was one of the most primordial powers of the void, but now it was staying obediently in the crystals, without any intention of chaos at all.

The black crystal on his chest was also very strange. It was clearly a chaotic black crystal, yet it was embedded in an ordinary construct. Identical constructs filled the entire farm; it wasn't anything special.

And that human was also very strange. He looked like a human, yet he possessed the force of chaos. Why could a human possess this most primordial power of the void?

Everything possessed the most primordial power of the void. No wonder the King had to shout for help. He seemed to have arrived at a magical place.

"Oh my, not moving again. Annoying. These pieces of junk break at every turn. When will they send some high-end goods from above?" Perhaps because he was lost in thought and stood still for too long, others thought he was broken. The voice that had just kicked Ang awake rang out again.

The human walked over, picked Ang up by the neck, and dragged him out, dragged him out of the farm, arrived at a building that might be a warehouse, threw him into a corner, and at the same time shouted loudly: "Wrench, another one broke. Fix it quickly. If you don't fix it, there will be nothing to work with."

The corner was already piled with a heap of scattered constructs of the same model. Ang didn't know the situation and didn't dare to move around, lying quietly among the constructs.

Beside a repair table not far away, the human called Wrench raised his head and responded dissatisfiedly: "If there's nothing to work with, go down to the field and do it yourself. I don't have eight hands; how can I fix them all? You'd be better off applying to have them send some high-end goods from above."

High-end goods again. It seemed the people here were full of longing for high-end goods.

Ang quietly looked at that Wrench and discovered that his body was also filled with the force of chaos. What was going on? Did all the humans here come standard with the force of chaos?

"I want to, too, but every time I apply, they say 'it's not like it can't be used.' Are you fixing it or not? I'm going to the field to work, and you won't be able to run either. You're next." After the human who brought Ang in finished speaking, he turned and left.

Wrench snorted dissatisfiedly, walked over, glanced at Ang, and said with heartache: "This damn guy doesn't cherish things at all. No maintenance whatsoever. No wonder it breaks every day."

While cursing, Wrench found lubricating grease and a knee joint, replaced Ang's badly worn left knee, and sprayed it with lubricating oil.

He checked carefully: "Nothing is broken. Maybe it's out of soul power. Let's go, let's go charge your soul."

After speaking, he carried Ang to a rack, hung him up, inserted a tube into Ang's chest, just covering the black crystal on his chest, pressed a button, and then returned to the repair table.

A continuous stream of soul energy poured from the tube into the chaotic black crystal.

The entire "soul charging" process lasted until late at night, but just as it hit six o'clock, a mechanical timer in the warehouse rang a few times, and that Wrench went "Woo-hoo," cheered, and ran off. The entire warehouse was left with only a pile of constructs and various boxes.

It wasn't until late at night that Ang felt the soul crystal was full and couldn't take in any more soul energy. He thought for a moment, pulled out the tube, climbed down from the rack, and started to explore the entire warehouse.

Part of the warehouse had been converted into a repair space, with several repair tables on which disassembled constructs were placed. In the corner was a pile of incomplete constructs, piled messily into a small hill.

Ang was almost the one in the best condition among these constructs. After all, he wasn't really broken, but was distracted while thinking about things, so he was mistaken for being broken. Constructs didn't think; if they stopped, they must be broken.

Another part of the warehouse was piled with various boxes. Some boxes were sealed. Ang scanned them with his will and discovered that inside were square-shaped foods.

He also checked several other different types of boxes, which contained foods like rice, flour, and meat. The meat was not only sealed but also packed in a kind of alchemy box, and the temperature inside the box was very low.

Ang understood the function of this low-temperature box a bit. It was actually refrigeration. What a backward method of food preservation; it wasn't as easy to use as his divine domain.

His War and Peace divine domain could not only keep things fresh but also sterilize and disinfect. It was the best way to process food; food placed inside would never spoil.

The remaining boxes were all storing the red crystals grown by the shrubs outside. It was just that these boxes were not only sealed but also had restrictions, making them impossible to open.

After walking around, Ang had explored every nook and cranny, but couldn't find any clues about the King. Where did the King go?

Looking left and right, Ang saw the pile of broken constructs in the corner and looked at his own right knee again.

The right knee joint was actually quite badly worn, but he didn't know if parts were in short supply or if it hadn't reached the level for replacement, so Wrench hadn't replaced it for him.

Ang rummaged through those broken constructs, picked out a good joint and two slightly worn feet, and replaced them for himself. He was very familiar with this kind of thing, just like when he replaced those skeletons' bones in the Palace of Rest back then.

After the replacement, he kicked his legs and felt a bit more flexible. However, it was meaningless. Both humans here had the force of chaos. Compared to them, the construct's body was too fragile and was easily carried back and forth by the other party.

If only his main body could come over...

Thinking for a moment, Ang pried off the black crystal from the chest of a construct that was the most severely damaged.

Returning to the rack, Ang put the "soul charging" tube on the black crystal, preparing to fill it up as well. The situation here was unclear; storing more soul energy was just in case.

However, seeing this tube, Ang suddenly remembered that he didn't seem to have checked what was behind the tube. What was it that could produce a continuous stream of soul energy? Would there be any news left by the King there?

Following the tube to the wall, he didn't know what material the wall was made of, but it could block soul penetration. Maybe it was also because Ang's soul was too weak now.

But it didn't matter. If the soul couldn't penetrate, then he would use physical penetration. Ang carefully pried off a brick through the gaps in the bricks, looked through the hole in the brick, and what he saw made his heart shake violently.

A soul of the dead was tightly bound in place by a magic array. Several metal pillars were continuously stripping soul energy from the soul of the dead and transporting it through the tube to the outside.

So, the soul energy came from this soul of the dead. They actually used the soul of the dead as a "soul charger" to replenish energy for the constructs.

That soul of the dead seemed to sense something. Its will swept over with effort. Seeing that it was a construct, it emitted a trace of doubtful fluctuation, and then suddenly remembered something, excitedly sending a message: "Ang?"

King? Is this the King?