Chapter 4

The little zombie grew strong under Ang's protection, safely passing through its newborn stage and becoming a tough-skinned zombie.

This was the lowest level of zombie, on par with the withered skeletons, but due to its layer of flesh, it had higher defense and was more combat-effective than the withered skeletons.

One day, the little zombie dragged a withered skeleton back to the pit and pushed it in front of Ang.

For me? Ang tilted his head.

The little zombie nodded and pushed the skull closer to Ang.

Ang shook his head; the soul of the withered skeleton was too weak. Devouring it would likely not be as beneficial as being strengthened by the Resting Wind.

The little zombie hung its head in disappointment and dragged the skeleton away. However, all the nearby withered skeletons soon suffered at the hands of the little zombie. None escaped its clutches.

When it encountered a skeleton it couldn't defeat, it would retreat to Ang's territory. Within a thirty-meter radius, even the bone skeletons dared not enter.

Despite the presence of a diligent predator, the little zombie, the local ecosystem remained unaffected. The vacated spots were quickly filled by skeletons wandering from elsewhere, and the skeletons the little zombie discarded, after a night of the Resting Wind, might give birth to new souls.

This was the eternal cycle of the undead, the only change being the strength of Ang's and the little zombie's souls.

If nothing else happened, Ang might have stayed in the pit forever, just as he had tended the farm for over a thousand years. However, an unexpected event occurred. One day, the little zombie, in a panic, ran back to the pit, pushed Ang, and pointed frantically outside.

The little zombie had a deep, bone-deep wound on its face, likely from some unknown weapon.

Ang poked his head out and saw a gray bone skeleton leading about twenty low-level skeletons, boldly invading Ang's territory.

Being of the same level as the gray bone skeleton, Ang had no rank advantage, and the low-level skeletons under its command ignored this rank suppression.

Did the little zombie provoke a nest of skeletons?

Without a second thought, Ang dragged the little zombie out of the pit and ran. He felt he couldn't defeat a gray bone skeleton and its twenty-odd subordinates.

They ran, and the gray bone skeleton led the pursuit, chasing them for a couple of kilometers before reluctantly giving up.

"What did you do?" Ang sighed, feeling temporarily safe, and asked with his soul.

The little zombie stared blankly at Ang, its intelligence insufficient to answer the question.

Fine, Ang gave up. The others in the farm were the same; when asked a question, they would look at you blankly. The little zombie was already better, knowing to come back and alert him when pursued...

No, if the little zombie hadn't run back, the gray bone skeleton would have only chased it, not involving himself.

You've caused me trouble... Ang tapped its head.

Due to the little zombie's reckless actions, Ang was forced out of his months-old den. Night was falling, and he needed to find a shelter quickly.

Returning was too late, so Ang dug a pit on the spot and hid with the little zombie. Because the pit was shallow, he had to push the surrounding soil back to cover both of them.

The next day, when the wind stopped, Ang climbed out and dug another pit a few meters away, throwing the little zombie into it. He decided not to let the little zombie hide in his pit anymore to avoid future trouble.

However, that night, as soon as the wind started, a head poked into his pit, looking around. Seeing Ang didn't drive it away, it slid in.

The next day, he threw it out, but it came back at night, like a game.

This continued until Ang dug a tunnel between the two pits. The game stopped because whenever it came over, Ang would kick it into the tunnel, making it crawl back.

Ang was a contented skeleton, able to farm for over a thousand years without being driven. Now, forced out of his safe den, he didn't mind, digging a new, larger, and safer den, spending his days in it, guiding the Resting Wind.

The little zombie was much more active, running out as soon as the wind stopped each day. The nearby low-level skeletons suffered again, and its soul grew stronger through this constant turmoil.

Ang thought today would be the same, but soon after the wind started, he heard footsteps. Soon, someone slid into the pit.

It was a human in a cloak, around forty to fifty years old, weathered, holding a delicate staff, radiating powerful magic—a human mage.

The human mage, surprised to find Ang in the den, exclaimed, "A skeleton? Why is a skeleton on the hill? Uh, sorry to disturb you, can I take shelter here from the wind?"

The human mage asked casually, knowing that skeletons only gained intelligence at the gold level. Ordinary skeletons acted on instinct, attacking when they sensed a threat. This skeleton might pounce on him at any moment.

However, a human mage walking in the land of the dead wouldn't fear a mere gray bone skeleton. He removed his hood and waved his hand outward.

A large skull poked into the pit, filling the remaining space. It was a bone horse, its hollow eye sockets glowing with a blue soul fire.

The pit was small, barely fitting a skeleton, a human, and a bone horse's head, leaving no room to turn. Ang retreated to the tunnel entrance, blocking the exit to make more space.

Why would a human mage appear here during the Resting Wind? Was he unaffected by it? Even if he wasn't, how did his bone horse survive?

Ang soon found out.

The human mage, curious, glanced at him, confirming the skeleton had no aggressive intent, then placed his hand on the bone horse's head. Black smoke rose from his palm, seeping into the bone horse's eye sockets and nostrils.

Where the black smoke passed, the bone horse's skeleton gradually lightened. Ang noticed the bone horse's skeleton was already eroded by the Resting Wind, showing signs of decay.

The Resting Wind had a peculiar mechanism. If the skeleton had a soul, the Resting Wind would erode it. If it was just a soulless skeleton, the Resting Wind would protect it, slowing its decay and even nurturing a new soul fire, turning it into a skeleton.

The bone horse had a soul fire, so its skeleton was eroded, but the erosion marks slowly disappeared under the black smoke's soothing effect.

Luo Jie understood why the bone horse could walk in the Resting Wind—it was continuously healed by the human mage.

However, this was very draining. After the black smoke enveloped the bone horse's head, the human mage seemed to realize something, slapping his forehead and saying, "I'm a fool."

The human mage reached out and twisted off the bone horse's head. The skeleton's soul fire was in the head, and without it, the skeleton left outside the pit would not be harmed by the Resting Wind.

Holding the bone horse's head, the human mage smiled awkwardly at Ang, "Lost track of time while traveling. Thanks to your pit, or we'd be blown to death by this evil wind. By the way, why are you on this hill? This isn't a place for skeletons, it's all rocks, hard to dig."

Ang's hollow eye sockets looked at the mage, saying nothing. Isn't this a place for skeletons?

Upon reflection, it seemed true. After the terrain rose, there were no more skeletons. The little zombie had to go to the flatlands to find other skeletons to prey on.

Seeing his blank expression, the mage chuckled, "Don't mind me. I've been in the wilderness for too long, with no one to talk to, my language skills have regressed. So, I try to chat with anyone I meet."

Ignoring Ang's reaction, the mage continued, as if talking to himself:

"This road is getting harder to travel. Do you know what it used to be called? The Golden Road, the Grain Road, the Silk Road. The basin below was once a hub of the Undead Empire, now it's the domain of these little skeletons."

"After the Undead Empire disappeared, business on this road became harder. According to old records, opening a small shop on this road could make a fortune. Not like now, I travel for half a month and might not earn enough for two months' food. I envy you, not needing to eat or drink. Only you undead can survive here."

"If only the teleportation portal could be opened. The Undead Empire's grain could be sold here, and things here could be sold there. Trade would flourish, and everyone would prosper. By the way, why do you undead produce so much grain if you don't eat?"

"Ah, I'm a fool again. Not all undead belong to the Undead Empire. It's been almost a thousand years; the skeletons of the Undead Empire are probably long gone."

The mage treated Ang like a tree stump, not expecting a response, and continued rambling. However, while Ang didn't understand much, he understood the last part.

Why do the undead produce so much grain if they don't eat? Because skeletons like Ang, who farm, grow it.

The mage sighed at the end, "The underground city is in trouble again. If we can't find a new food source, more people will starve. I hope the teleportation portal can be opened, and I hope the Undead Empire still exists."

The mage, as if making a wish, finished his rambling, glanced at the quiet Ang, chuckled to himself, pulled up his hood, and slowly fell asleep.