Chapter 96

The rebirth altar stood higher than the ground; the little zombie, the angelic skeleton, and Negrilis squatted in a row along its edge, looking down at Ang’s actions.

Anthony thought for a moment, then went over and squatted too, trying not to draw attention—but when Ang began operating, he couldn’t help shouting and exclaiming.

“Why can a skeleton use holy light?”

“How can a piece of raw meat grow in water?”

“Not water? Sacred essence fluid? Kuba Da, a whole basin full of sacred essence? That must cost twenty or thirty thousand magic crystals!”

“Uh, is the cost really this high? My personal stash was completely drained by you guys last time—this expense must be listed as sacrificial supplies.”

“Is this a purification spell? Why is single-target purification so powerful!?”

“Why is the casting frequency so fast? Is his mana that high? An Arcane Mage? Kuba Da, even Arcane Mages don’t cast this fast—doesn’t he get tired?”

“Not purification? Cleansing spell? What the hell? Can he define holy light?”

“Not defined by him? By Lisa? Who’s Lisa? A former Holy Maiden? She defined holy light by worshipping him? Don’t tell me he has a divine core.”

“Really? An immortal divine core? Did he inherit His Majesty’s immortal divine core? Good heavens, is he the Love of the Goddess of Luck?”

“Still not done? Ten hours already? Is he this enduring? Won’t his mana run out?”

“Look, quick, look—it’s forming, it’s really forming! This basin is too small, it’s about to overflow—hurry, get a bigger basin!”

“What? Five times more essence fluid? Never mind, never mind—I can’t get this reimbursed.”

Amid Anthony’s shouting and exclamations, a one-meter-tall human child gradually took shape in the basin, curled up with knees hugged to chest, his features identical to Anthony’s—no one would doubt he was Anthony’s child.

Ang stopped.

“Is it done?” Anthony asked immediately.

Honestly, Ang’s magic had never paused. At first, he wanted Ang to finish quickly—but after ten hours, Anthony’s feelings grew conflicted: he wanted it to stop, yet also wanted to see Ang’s limits; yet his own time was limited—he still had to reincarnate, and he hoped the body would heal soon.

Could Ang really sustain this indefinitely? Was it because of his superhuman mental strength?

Ang nodded. Done. This time, the amount of essence fluid consumed was similar to that used for the Bronze Dragon, but the growth rate was three times faster—besides his greater familiarity with the process, the more important factor was the tiny sapling above his head.

Even though Ang had stopped, the sapling did not—it continued enthusiastically transmitting messages: Push—grow—push—

Useful. Ang silently stamped the sapling.

The body was ready, but Anthony stared at the childlike form in the basin and hesitated: “Too small. If I reincarnate into this, I won’t be Anthony anymore. Can’t it keep growing?”

At one meter tall, the body was roughly the size of a three- or four-year-old. Anthony couldn’t possibly return to the Church with a child’s body—who would take him for a Grand Archbishop?

Better to swap for an adult body and climb back up. Over the past thousand years, he’d repeated this many times—he was very practiced.

“No consciousness. Grow bigger. Will starve to death.” Ang said.

“So you mean I should reincarnate first, then let it grow rapidly? Is that it?” Anthony asked.

Ang nodded.

The suitable body was ready. The essence of life was ready…

“No need for essence of life. The body you created is alive but lacks consciousness and soul—perfect for hosting consciousness. No essence of life needed. Essence of life merely infuses vitality into the body as my consciousness enters, enabling it to contain my soul and revive.”

Anthony marveled. Ang had created the ideal vessel for consciousness transfer and soul reincarnation into a living human.

He didn’t even need to prepare anything else—the rebirth altar was already here. He only needed to slightly adjust its operation mode. Anthony was skilled at this—he’d invented the rebirth altar himself.

After adjustments, they moved the body onto the altar, and Anthony began teaching the procedure.

“First do this, then that, then this again, then that—got it?”

Ang nodded.

Anthony hesitated: “You really understood? There’s no chance to practice now—you must succeed on the first try, or I’m in trouble. You really understood?”

Ang nodded.

“Why do I feel uneasy? You agreed too fast. I don’t feel secure. Maybe… Knowledge God, you operate the altar.”

“You really know how to pick people. My current body is just a tough-skinned Bronze Zombie Dragon—how am I supposed to operate it?” Negrilis spread his hands.

“But… really, you’ve mastered it, Lord Ang? Promise me—only one chance…” Anthony still hesitated.

Human nature is like this: if someone frowns, reluctantly thinks hard, and finally agrees after much resistance, they seem reliable. But if they nod immediately, it feels untrustworthy.

Yet if someone doesn’t lie and nods instantly, isn’t that because they’re truly skilled? The one who hesitates might genuinely be struggling.

Ang found him annoying. He grabbed Anthony’s neck.

The Divine Substitute glowed briefly, naturally blocking Ang’s hand.

But Ang’s hand trembled—the Divine Substitute shattered, and a soul was snatched into his grasp and thrown onto the altar.

The rebirth altar hummed to life.

After a few minutes, the human child in the center of the altar suddenly sat up, screaming in a shrill, childish voice: “Kuba Da you—”

The voice cut off abruptly. The child touched his throat, then patted his own face, disbelief in his eyes: “Is it over? Already?”

This reincarnation had been smoother than ever. Anthony felt only his soul being pulled out, then darkness—and it was done. He’d barely finished saying “Kuba Da,” and…

“You shattered my Divine Substitute? How did you do that?” Anthony was stunned.

Ang demonstrated the Interdimensional Hand.

Anthony frantically scratched his head, deciding not to think about it—Ang had too many inexplicable things about him.

Even more inexplicable: Ang moved a pile of beets and grain in front of him, then stamped a footprint on the ground.

Anthony immediately felt endless hunger, shoveling food into his mouth. Ang even handed him two bottles of Sacred Essence Fluid.

Anthony’s body visibly grew rapidly—ten years old, twenty, thirty, forty…

In just five days, Anthony ate hundreds of pounds of beets and grain, drank five bottles of Sacred Essence Fluid, and consumed four basins of Life Tree Sprout Stir-Fried Eggs. His body grew from a four- or five-year-old child to a forty-year-old adult.

When Anthony was ambushed, he was fifty-six—he only needed another ten years. But when he reached forty, he stopped, gazing intently at Negrilis and saying:

“If—I say, if—I return to the Church now, looking ten years younger, claiming my Lord sent a miracle to resurrect me, that I’m a Divine Chosen One—do you think they’ll believe me?”