Chapter 13

Should I say ‘yes’ or ‘no’? If I say no, what if the Overseer gets angry because such a large underground city has no followers of eternal life?

If I say yes, there were once two temples, but one has fallen into disrepair and is now used to store coffins, while the other is barely alive, with only a silver skeleton guarding it, and no priests. What kind of temple is that?

If the Overseer sees this situation, will he think I am not dedicated? That I couldn’t even maintain the faith of the undead?

It’s not that I’m not dedicated. The special nature of the Temple of the Undead means that only the living can be its followers. Undead beings are already soul-bound, so they don’t need a temple.

With the closure of the world’s transit station, the Undead Empire hasn’t appeared in this world for over a thousand years. Even the strongest faith has weakened and eventually disappeared as generations of people have died.

However, the main reason is that the Temple of the Undead was too laid-back. There were no rewards for those who followed it, and no punishments for those who defamed it. As long as you didn’t stand at the entrance to insult or spit, you could stand far away and even call the followers of the undead “fools” without anyone caring.

Of course, insulting the king is not allowed. Who would dare to insult the Undead King, who governs souls and eternal life, and risk being hunted down even in other planes?

This laid-back attitude is far from the Demon Valley, where the demons love to tempt people. As long as you follow them, they can offer you money, beauty, status, and power in exchange.

A thousand years ago, Phyllin had heard of a religion called the Church of Light, which was even more adept at tempting people. However, with the closure of the world’s transit station, they also disappeared.

In a flash, Phyllin decided to say ‘yes.’ After all, there really was a temple, even though it has declined, it’s not my fault, and deceiving the Overseer would be a grave sin.

“There is one, in the southeastern corner of the city.” Phyllin sent a location with his mind.

One of the good things about being an undead is that communication is direct at the soul level. Things that are hard to describe with words can be conveyed with a single thought.

After receiving the location, Ang took the small zombie and headed towards the northeastern corner of the city.

Ang’s position was also in the northeastern direction, but in a forked cave that was rarely visited. The northeastern corner of the city, where the Temple of the Undead was located, was part of the main area, near the sloping entrance to the underground city.

When Ang arrived, he found the area equally silent, with no ghosts in sight. The ground was covered with moss, making it slippery and difficult to walk on.

As he walked further, he entered the temple’s area and noticed that the moss and debris on the ground had disappeared, leaving a clean and swept surface.

In the distance, he could hear the sound of sweeping.

Following the sound, Ang turned a corner and saw a silver skeleton sweeping the floor. Sensing Ang’s presence, the silver skeleton looked in his direction with its hollow eye sockets.

The small zombie stiffened and quickly hid behind Ang.

To be honest, this silver skeleton was the strongest skeleton Ang had seen in a thousand years, with a soul strength only slightly weaker than Phyllin’s, and it had a level of control over lower undead beings.

However, Ang felt no pressure from it, nor did he feel any pressure from Phyllin. Initially, his gray bone frame was picked up from the Hall of Rest, not properly trained, so he didn’t know his own level.

But since the silver skeleton couldn’t pressure him, it meant that its soul wasn’t much stronger than his own.

The silver skeleton glanced at Ang and then lowered its head, continuing to sweep. It had been doing this same task for a thousand years and would likely continue for more.

No broom could withstand a thousand years of use without breaking, unless it could repair itself. Observing the black mist that spread from each sweep, Ang realized it was the silver skeleton’s soul weapon.

A soul weapon is a weapon condensed from the soul energy of a high-level undead, capable of self-growth and automatic repair.

Speaking of which, Ang’s scythe and hoe had also been used for over a thousand years.

Seeing that the silver skeleton ignored them, Ang wandered around the temple on his own. Nigris had suggested finding a Temple of the Undead to see if he could connect to the soul network to determine his situation, but how to connect was unclear.

After circling the temple with no leads, Ang called out to Nigris again.

As soon as Nigris projected into Ang’s soul, he couldn’t help but complain: “I never imagined that someone who knew my divine name would treat me like a spirit servant. I won’t give my divine name as a reward anymore. Little skeleton, I’m not your spirit butler.”

“Oh, temple, no, soul network.” Ang ignored Nigris’s complaint.

Nigris sighed. As the Brass Dragon, the God of Knowledge, those who were qualified to know his divine name were always respectful and cautious, carefully considering their questions before asking.

Their questions were either about the laws governing the planes or about overcoming magical bottlenecks, not like Ang, who always asked common-sense questions, making him feel like a spirit butler.

But what could he do? He had set the rules, and he had to follow them, even if it meant kneeling to do so.

Nigris looked around and said helplessly, “Without believers, how can there be a soul network? The necrotic fire on the altar has even gone out. Light the necrotic fire first, and then find some devout believers.”

“Oh.” Ang acknowledged.

Nigris, who had already figured out Ang’s habits, said helplessly, “Are you going to ask how to light the necrotic fire?”

“Yes, tomorrow.” Ang was a very rule-abiding skeleton.

“You don’t need to wait until tomorrow. I’ll teach you now. You’re planning to do a trivial task over several days, and you have the patience, but I don’t.” Nigris surrendered. As the God of Knowledge, it was an insult to his divinity to have to answer such common-sense questions over several days.

Under Nigris’s guidance, Ang lit the necrotic fire on the altar.

A bit of soul energy was injected, and the necrotic fire rose. Almost immediately, the sweeping sound in the temple stopped, and the silver skeleton quickly walked over, kneeling before the altar in the most standard posture, bowing repeatedly.

The metal skull hit the ground with a clanging sound. With each bow, the small necrotic fire flared up.

Ang pointed at the silver skeleton and said to Nigris, “Believer?”

“This isn’t a believer. Consider it a priest. Your king is foolish to let a silver skeleton be a priest. Does he not know that priests are also known as charlatans? A foolish skeleton can’t deceive anyone,” Nigris sneered.

“Who can be a believer?” Ang asked.

“Anyone can be a believer. It’s not about who they are, but about their faith. Without sincere belief, no matter how many people there are, it’s useless. Don’t go looking for them yourself. You’re just a skeleton, and people will be wary of you. How can they believe you? You should disguise yourself or get someone else to help.”

Nigris had already taught Ang step by step, more actively than he had ever spread his own faith.

Ang thought for a moment and put on his scarecrow hat. The scarecrow hat was a magical item designed to scare birds, capable of transforming into a few different forms, such as an eagle or a human.

This low-level magical item wasn’t very effective; if the mental strength was similar, it could be seen through at a glance. However, it had one advantage: it could produce sound. Ang couldn’t speak, and he communicated with Phyllin through his soul.

Transforming into an ordinary-looking man, Ang walked out of the temple and soon saw a large, muscular minotaur woman. Ang pointed at her: “Can this one work?”

“Ha, stubborn minotaurs. If she believes you, I’ll crawl like a lizard,” Nigris sneered. Minotaurs were known for their stubbornness and only believed in their ancestral totems. Convincing them to believe in the undead was nearly impossible.

Ang took out the soul crystal Phyllin had given him as payment, refined it, and absorbed it into the wrist accessory, then transferred a bag of grain out and presented it to the minotaur woman: “You, believe in the undead?”