Chapter 1440
Just now, in the midst of battle, Prometheus seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before deciding to release the Sanctum Cage. Others might not have sensed this hesitation, but Leon was acutely aware. The Sanctum Cage is a sustained spell, requiring the Lightbearer Mage to maintain it continuously—if the connection breaks for even a moment, the mage will dissipate.
Leon shook his head, brushing off the thought that had flashed through his mind. He didn’t dwell on it. Being able to summon four Sanctum Spirits to assist while constructing the Sanctum Cage was proof enough—Prometheus was a person whose character perfectly embodied the most sacred virtues of light. To earn the recognition of those four Sanctum Spirits spoke volumes.
Only the purest soul and the most flawless character could gain the approval and aid of the four Sanctum Spirits when building the Sanctum Cage.
The valor of the swordbearer, the wisdom of the one holding the spellbook, the sanctity of the staff-bearer, and the devotion of the one with arms crossed in prayer—whichever Sanctum Spirits are summoned, it reflects the virtues possessed by the Lightbearer Mage themselves.
“Lord Prometheus, we should leave here quickly. The battle just now must have drawn plenty of undead attention. With the Skeleton King fallen, those undead might seize the chance to launch a frenzied counterattack…”
Prometheus’s face was unnaturally pale, his voice weak as if even speaking cost him effort. He merely nodded, saying nothing.
Leon glanced toward the direction of the Undead Plane. In the distance, the vast undead horde surged restlessly, but none seemed to be attacking this way anymore—instead, they’d started fighting among themselves…
Soon, Leon saw an ocean of ghouls, rabidly attacking the undead around their territory. Undead were being torn apart left and right, chaos spreading fast. Clearly, the undead army wouldn’t have time to counterattack anytime soon—they were too busy tearing each other to pieces.
Leon’s expression grew odd, especially when he saw those ghouls—he couldn’t help but think of Gimble. No doubt, the brainwashing back then had gone a little overboard.
Clearly, Gimble had started stirring up infighting even before the Skeleton King was dead. That guy must be convinced that only by eliminating every rival will he get what he wants…
Leon opened a Common Portal and returned to the fortress with Prometheus. On the other side of the battlefield, Gimble was waving a thigh bone taller than himself, howling as he commanded his undead army to charge.
“Kill those idiots, kill those skulls who shelter our enemies—damn fools, damn skeletons, kill them all…”
Gimble raised his head, glaring at the flocks of Mourning Vultures swirling in the distant sky. Seeing those black birds was like facing his greatest enemy—his eyes were blood-red.
“Those damned skeletons won’t let us go burn those dead birds to ash—then we’ll kill them all, every last one…”
Countless ghouls and zombies charged, howling without any formation or strategy. Their sheer numbers crashed over the battlefield like a tidal wave.
Of all the undead in the Undead Plane, skeletons are the least bothered by Mourning Vultures. They’re just bones—Mourning Vultures don’t care, and they never attack skeletons.
But every ghoul and zombie, any low-level undead with flesh, has a natural hatred for Mourning Vultures. After all, most undead start out as low-level minions—prime food for Mourning Vultures, or just meat waiting to be thrown in the pot…
Because the skeletons’ territory is full of Mourning Vultures, Gimble wants to kill them. But the skeletons won’t let him through—they think it’s an invasion. So, fine, they fight for the territory.
But it’s not about taking territory now—it’s about getting into the other side’s land and killing those Mourning Vultures. All these damned skeletons are obstacles to their revenge, so every last one has to die…
Strangely, the skeleton lords noticed that the ghouls and zombies attacking them were acting insane—even the cannon fodder charged like mad.
When the undead waves collided, they didn’t stop to fight or pick each other apart—they just kept charging forward. If a skeleton got in the way, a claw would swipe at it, and if that didn’t finish it, another undead would follow up with another swipe.
The skeleton lords were dumbfounded. With all their wisdom, they couldn’t figure out what was happening—why weren’t the ghouls and zombies following the usual rules of the Undead Plane?
No one ever made those rules official, but after countless years, every undead lord followed them. Suddenly, someone breaks the pattern, and everyone’s left bewildered…
Skeletons will never understand the visceral hatred flesh-bound undead have for Mourning Vultures. It’s hardwired into their soul fire—especially for ghouls, whose hatred for those birds is off the charts…
Damn it, we used to eat meat, and now something’s come to steal our food—and even eats us as meat…
It’s just intolerable. If you can’t stand it, kill it…
Gimble’s philosophy resonated with nearly every ghoul, and plenty of zombies tormented by Mourning Vultures agreed too. Suddenly, they’d become the most frenzied undead army.
Not that these undead cared about philosophy—they just knew killing Mourning Vultures was right, and that was enough…
After the Skeleton King was killed, the Blighted Domain descended into utter chaos. First Gimble attacked the neighboring skeleton territory, then other undead lords joined the fray for no real reason—war for war’s sake.
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With the Skeleton King gone, it was the perfect chance to seize territory—so why wait? War it is…
Suddenly, the Blighted Domain was thrown into chaos. For thousands of kilometers, undead battles raged everywhere—even undead lords from outside the Blighted Domain joined in. They barely knew what was happening before being dragged into the war’s mire. The chaos only deepened…
Meanwhile, Leon and Prometheus returned to the fortress. Leon removed the seven thin needles embedded in Prometheus’s body. This time, he couldn’t help but sense Prometheus’s soul once more.
That soul was as pure as a newborn’s—utterly pristine, like a blank sheet of paper…
After removing the seven needle seals and sending Prometheus on his way, Leon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—about Prometheus himself.
Not only was his soul blank as paper, his character was so perfect it was almost inhuman—like a living saint.
After a few days of observation, Leon figured maybe he was just overthinking things. Just because he couldn’t do it didn’t mean others couldn’t, right…
Next came the busy work of healing. On the human front lines, plague infection was rampant—almost half the people were infected, from Magi to Seventh Rank Sky Mages.
Leon clutched the Death Tome, channeling the power of the Chapter of Truth to draw out and devour the plague from infected mages. The Crystal Phoenix had been busy digesting the Heart of the Plague and couldn’t be summoned lately, but when it came to swallowing the plague power spreading from the Heart of the Plague, it was almost laughably easy.