Chapter 1150: 358. Technique Dead Talent
Today was definitely a bad day for Archelon – Demon Bone.
Being a genuine Eighth Ring powerhouse and an assistant priest of the Undead Cult, he had been assigned to receive guests by the Master of Ceremonies.
And the so-called guests, well… Archelon – Demon Bone did not like them.
They were a group of executioners full of murderous intent, cold-hearted, and they always acted superior.
In particular, the leader refused his magic, preferring to run on foot to meet the Master of Ceremonies rather than ride on a magic carpet.
Archelon – Demon Bone flew rapidly a few meters above the ground, his gaze icy as he swept over the iron monstrosities trailing behind him.
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These creatures, akin to Metal Skeletons, supposedly had considerable territories in Outer Space.
Archelon – Demon Bone couldn’t understand.
How could a race that couldn’t fly possibly establish themselves in Outer Space?
Streams of white, cold air flowed from Archelon – Demon Bone’s chest, swiftly swept away by the onrushing wind.
Archelon quietly increased his flying speed, intending to test the limits of the group behind him.
He kept increasing his speed, but he was bound to be disappointed.
“Clank-Clank-Clank…”
The Death Steel Soldiers marched in perfect unison, like precise drumbeats perfectly in sync with the Soldier Commander, with no noise out of place in the entire group.
The black eyeballs of the Death Steel Soldier Commander shifted slightly to look at Archelon flying ahead, seemingly aware that he was being deliberately difficult.
But the Death Steel Soldier Commander was unbothered, with no complaints, just keeping pace with him.
The contest between them lasted about five minutes, finally ending when Archelon – Demon Bone realized his behavior was inappropriate.
Three more minutes passed, and the glow of a dark green candlelight emerged from the end of the underground tunnel.
The group passed through the sluice gate into a special Subterranean City.
This place was the stronghold of the Undead Cult, known as the City of Ghastly Breath.
Here, man-made corridors and natural caves interwove to create a complex underground network.
Apart from a few areas that were more open for specific purposes, all other places were dark and cramped.
The corridors were narrow and rugged, filled with the stench of decay, the air was greenish and extremely murky, unbearable for the living to breathe.
Archelon – Demon Bone led the team, walking at the forefront along the narrow corridor downwards, quickly arriving at an underground hollow tightly guarded by War Spirits.
Archelon stopped, wanting to introduce the guests to the area, but suddenly realized he did not know their names.
“May I ask how should I address you and your team members?” Archelon turned and asked the ones behind him.
A C-Class Death Steel Soldier Commander looked at him with dull, dark eyes, responding coldly,
“Besolang-C.”
Besolang… What a mouthful of a name… Archelon thought to himself, making a gesture in front of him,
“Please, guests. This place is a camp specially established by the Undead Cult for constructing a Signal Tower. All acolytes, cultivators, and artisans servicing the Signal Tower are concentrated here to prevent any leaks of secrets.”
The War Spirits guarding the entrance retracted the Magic Metal fence, letting the team pass through.
Archelon led the team through a heavily decorated door of death and blood, entering the bustling Underground Hollow.
A myriad of sounds invaded his mind: the Undead Acolytes pushing trolleys, cultivators scolding acolytes, artisans carving magical runes with rune nails and hammers on the hard magic stone, clinking incessantly.
Archelon raised his voice, walking and introducing:
“All affairs here are managed by Lord Demon Bone, the Master of Ceremonies! I will take you directly to meet him! But only you may enter, your team members must wait outside the council hall!”
Besolang gave a barely perceptible nod as a response.
Archelon aggressively shoved aside the obstructive Undead Acolytes, making his way towards the cavern at the street end.
Were it not for the Prohibition of Casting within the camp, Archelon would surely have used Death Magic to harshly teach the heedless acolytes a lesson.
Upon reaching the entrance of the cavern, Archelon stopped, exchanging a few words with the War Spirits guarding it, and let Besolang in.
The rest of the Death Steel Soldiers stood dumbfounded at the sides of the alley.
The passing Undead, either low-intelligence laborers like Living Corpses and Skeletons or clueless low-grade acolytes, all mistook the Death Steel Soldiers for Metal Skeletons, completely oblivious to the presence of a hundred Stellar Creatures right beside them.
Archelon – Demon Bone glanced around, filled with distaste for this chaotic place, eager to return to his Soul Factory, where a tidy-loving Undead belonged.
Just as he was about to step away, he was called back by a War Spirit emerging from the cavern. noveldrama
“Wait, Lord Demon Bone is looking for you,” said the War Spirit expressionlessly.
Archelon turned back to look at the War Spirit, who was one of Lord Demon Bone’s personal guards.
With a sigh, Archelon suppressed his discomfort with the place and stepped into the cavern.
The so-called Lord Demon Bone was an overweight fat Skeleton dressed in an open-front luxurious Magic Robe, exposing his empty belly and the ribs on his chest.
He was currently seated on a throne made of bones, holding a luminous Skull Wine Glass in his hands, savoring the Blood Essence Brew inside, while conversing with the effortful Death Steel Soldier Commander.