Chapter 964: This… Is a Mourning Bone Dragon?

The Grand Councilor dragged a long line of coffins ahead as a guide, while Ange’s group followed far behind in their airship, flying in tandem toward the Divine Light Alliance.

“What do you think he’s dragging all these coffins for?” Negril asked, eyeing the crude, endless line of coffins.

Anthony murmured: “I guess… they’re for holding corpses.”

Negril’s face darkened: “I figured that too—but what kind of corpses?”

“Of course, the Mourning Undead Soldiers. I didn’t dare scan with my mind—Du Luo Ken, can you see anything?” Anthony asked.

Du Luo Ken said: “Good thing you didn’t scan—the coffins are covered entirely in shielding and isolation arrays. Even if you did, you’d see nothing. These coffins seem to require a completely isolated environment, free of consciousness or soul interference. What does that make you think of?”

Negril guessed: “Soul Vessel Rebirth?”

Soul Vessel Rebirth demands an extremely quiet, undisturbed environment—it’s essentially the process of imprinting memories into a new soul. If disturbed, memories may be lost or corrupted with foreign ones—then is the reborn soul still the original?

Such disruptions are common, especially from the ever-present wraiths. Imagine if, during your rebirth, a horde of wraiths wailed around your soul vessel—you’d likely kill yourself again the moment you returned.

Du Luo Ken nodded: “So it’s good you didn’t scan. Otherwise, he might have turned hostile. Soul Vessel Rebirth fears disturbance above all.”

Anthony said: “Why is he drifting through the void with a string of Mourning Undead Soldiers undergoing Soul Vessel Rebirth?”

Silver Coin gasped: “Is the place where they forge Mourning Bodies inside the Vast Hollow?”

Anthony nodded gravely. Negril and Du Luo Ken’s expressions darkened too.

Wind Rabbit asked, bewildered: “What’s the problem? Is it dangerous to forge Mourning Bodies inside the Vast Hollow?”

Negril explained: “Where does your power come from? From your believers’ faith, right? Suppose you had a hundred million believers…”

“Pfft…” Wind Rabbit laughed involuntarily: “A hundred million believers? If I had that many, I’d laugh in my sleep.”

Negril slapped its ear: “The number doesn’t matter—I’m just using an analogy. You pathetic god, you don’t even have a million believers. You deserve to get beaten.”

The rabbit rubbed its ear, protesting: “How many believers do you have? Let’s compare!”

Negril ignored it and continued: “To sustain a hundred million believers, you’d need hundreds of millions of acres of farmland. With such low crop yields here, you’d also need temples, rituals, and constant devotion to harvest faith. That’s how you get steady power. The void has none of that—not even a sun. How does he feed so many?”

The rabbit said: “But they’re Mourning Undead Soldiers—they don’t need food. Why can’t he sustain them?”

Negril scoffed: “You don’t understand. Undead are harder to sustain than the living.”

On the surface, undead don’t eat, drink, or fear cold—they seem easy to maintain. But look deeper: if a place hosts undead, it must first host living races.

Living races need only one male and one female, plus food and clothing, to reproduce. But undead require living races first. To sustain undead, you must first sustain living races.

Kings understand this. Great sages understand this. That’s why, in the Lands of Decay, the Great Sages were kinder to humans than the Light Church, which only collected taxes and did nothing—because living races are the foundation of undead.

If the Grand Councilor truly forges Mourning Bodies inside the Vast Hollow, where does he get the soul energy? From the Divine Light Alliance? Then why not forge them there directly?

For safety? Ridiculous. The Six Councilors alone possess seventy-two Mourning Undead Soldiers. Rumor says the Grand Councilor commands an even larger undead army. Who could threaten his safety?

“The only reason is that workshops must be near raw material sources—just like iron mines always have forges nearby,” Silver Coin added.

Hearing this, everyone turned their gaze toward the Vast Hollow. If there truly was a source of raw material for forging Mourning Undead Soldiers there, what could it be?

“Chaos Mist? A plane saturated with death energy? Or an ancient battlefield?” Negril said.

“Guessing is pointless. We don’t even know how they forge Mourning Undead Soldiers. What if he has his own self-contained dimensional world, like the Master?” Du Luo Ken said.

Too little data to speculate—but undeniably, if Mourning Undead Soldiers are forged inside the Vast Hollow, it’s nothing like the ordinary notion of an “empty void.”

“Then why follow him? We can just sell him Essence Fluid later. Why bother going?” Negril asked.

Anthony explained: “It’s the most logical choice. We’re cornered. He offers us protection, yet we refuse—doesn’t look like we’re truly desperate. And if we don’t draw him away, how do we move the Hammer of God Plane? The Master has already begun the transfer.”

As he spoke, everyone turned to Ange beside them. Ange’s hand glowed faintly with white light; the little phantom clung entirely to his arm, and his forearm had vanished.

The Hammer of God Plane—the previously fled Heavenly Fortress had returned, hovering before the pit. A World Tree vine was now piercing through the buried soil, emerging and stretching toward the fortress.

The Sacred War Tree, ready, extended its branches to meet the vine, gripping it tightly, entwining with it.

Then the fortress moved. The vine slowly tightened, dragging the entire Hammer of God Plane into motion.

In this slow tug-of-war, the Hammer of God Plane drifted away from its original position, heading toward unknown regions—all without any direct connection to Ange’s hand.

As for that hand, it now floated above the Gods’ Farm, occasionally poking a hole and planting divine rabbit-tail grass.

Seeing Ange looking so “busy,” Negril sighed with relief: “Finally doing something real. But is it safe to follow? We’re strangers here—what if he ambushes us?”

Anthony smiled and shook his head: “Look at the level of those Mourning Undead Soldiers—ambushing us would be difficult. Worst case, we lose one body. Little Phantom is already here; we’ll just project back later and settle accounts with him.”

Having witnessed the combat prowess of the Mourning Undead Soldiers, Anthony now looked down on them—they had no skills at all. Trying to trick or ambush?

Just then, Ange—who had been “so busy”—suddenly leapt up and rushed to the window, peering outside.

Everyone’s hearts jolted. They all rushed to the window, following Ange’s gaze.

Ange’s vision was farther, so he saw it first. The others only sensed a massive soul fluctuation stirring in the distance.

As they drew closer and saw the soul fluctuation, everyone drew a sharp breath: “This… this is a Mourning… Bone Dragon?”