Chapter 94: Ah, I Was Careless

When Ang was studying the essence of life, he received an urgent call from Silver Coin, and then brought Negril to the Reincarnation Altar, activating the teleportation array. From the other side came Anthony’s dejected voice: “God of Knowledge, no matter what, you must pull me out this time—lend me the Reincarnation Altar.”

“What happened? Why do you need the Reincarnation Altar?” Negril asked in confusion. What could possibly require the Reincarnation Altar—and leave a former Black Knight Emperor, now a Cardinal, so despondent?

“Sigh, it’s a long story—I was careless. Ambushed and attacked. Now I only have my Holy Substitute left, but it can only last twenty-four hours. I must find a way to reincarnate as either a Black Knight or a living being, or I’ll dissipate entirely. So please, God of Knowledge, lend me the Reincarnation Altar.”

“Then just reincarnate! Why do you need the Reincarnation Altar? Don’t tell me after all these years in the Prime Material Plane, you don’t have a single suitable location for reincarnation? Didn’t you reincarnate many times before?”

Anthony sighed: “That’s exactly why I was careless—my secret bases and safehouses were all uncovered. I didn’t have time to prepare the equipment or materials for reincarnation, so I’ll have to reincarnate as a Black Knight first, then figure out how to become a living being later.”

“All uncovered? Is there a traitor?” Negril exclaimed.

“Sigh… probably not a traitor. I was careless. I’ve used these bases and hidden chambers for one or two hundred years, and to save effort, I never moved them. They figured out all my locations. Sigh… they sent too many. Two Saint Swordsmen, six Grand Mages, one Anti-Magic, one Rift-Breaker—all targeting me. If not for my close-combat skills, that one High-Rank Saint Swordsman’s ambush alone would’ve killed me.”

Negril’s spirit trembled. Anti-Magic and Rift-Breaker? These ultra-rare professions were sent to assassinate Anthony? Who the hell did he provoke?

“Who else? Nicholas of the Western Human Diocese—he’s always seen me as his biggest rival for the Papacy. I know who that High-Rank Saint Swordsman was—a named human powerhouse. I crushed his skull with one Divine Fist. Unless he can reincarnate, Nicholas has lost one High-Rank Saint Swordsman.”

“And then?” Negril asked. He kept saying the guy had a name, yet never gave it.

“Then the other assassins closed in—the Anti-Magic shattered my defenses, the Rift-Breaker broke my barriers, the six Grand Mages restricted my movement, and the second Saint Swordsman stabbed me with his blade. I had no choice but to activate Holy Protection and teleport away.”

“And then?” Negril asked. “Do they have someone who can break Holy Protection too?”

“Do they? Sigh…” Anthony let out a long sigh—he’d sighed so many times since this conversation began, clearly devastated. “No. I teleported back to my base. But they’d planted goblin bombs under the teleport array. Blew me and the whole room into the air.”

“Pfft. Impossible. You’d make such a rookie mistake? No one guarding your place? Could someone just casually plant bombs there? Where are Bolke and the others?”

“Sigh… when you let him go, you erased a bit of his memory, right?” Anthony asked.

“Yes.” Negril replied confidently. Of course you erase a captive’s memory before releasing him—otherwise, how do you prevent leaks?

“Sigh… I erased a bit too. So they weren’t where they should’ve been. That’s why…”

“...” Negril had no words. Pure bad luck. If not for this chain of coincidences, Anthony’s strength and preparations would’ve let him escape safely even if ambushed.

Still, the enemies didn’t fare well—the High-Rank Saint Swordsman was obliterated by Anthony’s Holy Word: Unbreakable, combined with Divine Aura no weaker than a High-Rank Saint Swordsman’s punch.

“Don’t you have any other backups? Like extra safehouses or something?”

“Of course I do. But materials for reincarnating as a living being need to be prepared in advance. I only have twenty-four hours left—wait, twenty hours now. No time. Fresh corpses are easy to find, but elf essence of life is hard to get. I’ll reincarnate as a Black Knight first, then figure it out later,” Anthony said, dejected.

Essence of life? What a coincidence? Negril turned around and saw Ang pouring essence of life onto his palm.

“How did you even find Silver Coin? Why is he cooperating with you?”

Anthony loosened his grip on Silver Coin’s neck and smiled: “I had a friendly, cordial chat with him. That’s why he’s cooperating. Honestly, Silver Coin is still too young. Since leaving Greenleaf City, at least six factions have had eyes on him. If I hadn’t erased all records of him and his contacts, he’d already be captured.”

“Huh? Really? He’s way too young—only ninety-something. Too young. But Ang can protect his soul. If they catch him, fine—he won’t reveal anything anyway,” Negril said indifferently.

“Yes, yes, haha, way too young,” Anthony fully released Silver Coin’s neck and laughed it off.

After consulting with Ang, Negril asked: “If you reincarnate as a human, besides essence of life, what other materials do you need?”

Negril believed Anthony. With him in the Church of Light, he’d hidden many secrets for the Deep Sleep Abyss. Otherwise, over these thousand years, this former world transit hub had seen almost no visitors—those who came knew nothing of its former glory, only saw it as a barren abyss plane.

So having a Cardinal watching over you had its benefits.

“Mainly essence of life and a fresh body. Other materials are easy to get—but where do I find essence of life now?” Anthony said.

“Uh… I happen to have some essence of life right here,” Negril said.

“Really? You have something this hard to get? Did you trade it for a World Tree sapling? I’ll go find a fresh corpse then!” Anthony instantly perked up.

Reincarnating as a Black Knight was pointless—he’d been a Black Knight Emperor for so long, lazy and bored, doing nothing. Being alive was far more fun—you could play with others every day.

“Wait, what’s the point of just any corpse? If you’re reincarnating, go back to your original body. Stay as Archbishop Anthony.”

“No, my body was blown to pieces.”

Negril glanced at Ang, who was dripping essence of life onto the little sapling, then asked: “Do you have any relics stained with your blood or flesh? If so, maybe we can reconstruct your original body.”

“???” Anthony’s mind filled with giant question marks. He looked down at his bloodstained Cardinal’s insignia—the symbol on it was slowly glowing.

ps: Crowdfunding the book. If you use it, God says: Bring out the big move—how do you unleash it?