The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 221 - 193 Throw in Three, Combine into One (3.8K)_2

Chapter 221: Chapter 193 Throw in Three, Combine into One (3.8K)_2

Traveling in the dark posed no problem, for Lind’s hearing was very sensitive, especially when his vision was limited; his focus intensified, allowing him to pick up even more sounds.

Upon entering Crying Town, they traversed slopes muddled with mud and isolation, worse than post-war ruins, through the twisted, dilapidated houses.

The path beyond the small town was treacherous, with stone spikes growing wildly in every nook where one might step, while the layered rocks on either side stood as neatly arranged as a wall of red bricks.

Entering this place was like falling into a pit that would puncture through a person, with smooth walls all around, leaving no escape.

They had been traveling in the dark for several hours, even using star grass for illumination, when unexpectedly, the Catastrophe Warhorse, enticed by it like a "carrot," charged forward rapidly.

Night vision was somewhat difficult for the two of them, but the Catastrophe Warhorse was not at all troubled by such confusion and dashed unrestrained.

As they delved deeper, the temperature dropped rapidly.

Something unsettling was announcing its arrival in an unpleasant way; Lind quickly removed the Mystic Rune crossbow from his waist and shot an arrow imbued with flame power, which lodged itself into the stone wall dozens of steps away.

In the gloomy depths, flames erupted, dispelling both darkness and the cold, along with shrapnel blasted open from the explosion.

The arrow embedded in the stone wall continued to emit a brightness rivaling a torch, an unreasonable outcome from the enormous power Lind had infused into it.

A stone door was set silently into the stone wall, with descending stone steps visible through the open entrance.

This was a tomb, and the style of the grave seemed to be that of a Noble Lord’s; Lind had been to his grandfather’s tomb before and had even seen an old tomb keeper there.

It was said to be filled with jewels, various funerary objects, and of course, no shortage of Gold.

The Rand Kingdom loved Gold, with the Armand Family ancestors reputedly using Gold coffins, a testament to their extravagance.

"Woo woo," a cry like the sobbing of the wind suddenly filled the air.

Lind also felt something had fixed its gaze on his body.

Curse!

He had experienced it once on the choir of the Archbishop of the Hero Rank, only this Curse was insignificant, inducing only some goosebumps and a hint of nausea in him.

"Milord!" Reed reacted a bit slower, as he was but an ordinary Great Knight.

Reed was murmuring, gathering his strength.

However, Lind never had the need for "casting," and with a leap from his Catastrophe Warhorse, his hand burst into flames, illuminating all before them with terrifying heat. It was a ghost, floating in mid-air with one leg missing, no chin, and a bloated tongue full of blisters that extended like an octopus tentacle. Its fingers were elongated into needle-like points completely fused with the nails.

As Lind moved, it also howled and flew toward him, its steel-like fingers aiming straight for his head. Lind’s right hand had already drawn the Banshee’s Horn, which in his grip resembled a short-handled mallet aglow with a purple light.

The ghost, hauling its damaged form, charged front-on towards Lind, who met it with the Horn, striking its head. The ghost’s body shook violently, seemingly unprepared for the Horn’s formidable power, and its spirit-form trembled.

Lind stretched out his left hand tentatively, but when he couldn’t grasp the ghost’s form, he used the Horn in his right hand for an additional blow, smashing its body to pieces.

"Milord, are you alright?" Reed, who had finally amassed his power, also leaped down from the horseback, with the Longsword in hand, ablaze with flames.

"It was just disgustingly ugly," Lind shook his head.

Without touch, ghosts indeed pose a difficult challenge, but once one has the means to deal with them, their strength probably doesn’t even reach level 10.

"Let’s go, and remember to be careful," Lind took the lead entering through the stone door.

"Yes!"

Descending further into the crypt, Lind became increasingly certain that this place must be the tomb of some noble from the Rand Kingdom, as various gold artifacts littered the ground, and he even saw a large number of Rand Gold Coins.

Nowadays, with the increase in the Undead, the demand for Gold Coins had grown larger in Star Dragon City, and Lind indeed needed more Rand Gold Coins; otherwise, just going to a tavern for a drink would require payment via Points, which would make Points seem too omnipotent.

As everyone knows, there are several ways to make money in a game: lotteries and opening boxes are a must; modifying numbers, which Lind couldn’t do; and subscription-based payments, which he also couldn’t do.

But he could introduce a variety of currency types, forcing the Undead to grind for another type of currency for certain materials.

The deeper they went, the surrounding walls seemed to have the property of swallowing sounds, completely absorbing the footsteps of both men; had they not been able to hear each other’s breathing, they might have thought they had gone deaf.

The wailing sound came once more, and this time, Reed was the first to rush forward, igniting his Longsword with "Clore’s Rage" and then using magic Sword Oil to ensure it could harm ghosts.

The approaching ghost was swept away by Reed’s uppercut with his sword, and with a twist of the blade, it plunged into the ghost, exploding it upon a twist and turn.

The number of ghosts they encountered increased, wandering aimlessly inside, but as soon as they detected the presence of the living, they would immediately charge.

Reed began to struggle; after igniting his flame sword a few times, he could eventually only muster a faint red glow.

Now it was Lind who took the lead, the ghosts completely unable to hinder his advance; heavy breathing and wailing winds collided in the narrow passageways of the crypt, while Reed, standing behind, witnessed the Lord’s wildly fierce fighting style ablaze with flames once again.

The Broken Sword couldn’t be swung here, but Lind, clutching the Banshee’s Horn, was still awe-inspiring; the troublesome ghosts were like moths to a flame, screaming as they rushed towards him, only to explode moments later.

Lind moved effortlessly among the ghosts, bringing a nearly savage charge and sweltering heat to the bone-chilling underground tomb corridors.

"Shh!" Lind raised his finger.

Reed, who had just caught up, saw the Lord’s gesture and instinctively lowered his voice; once he had moved next to Lind, a twitch pulsed through his eyelids.

A huge open space appeared ahead, resembling not so much a main burial chamber as an arena built within the crypt.

Blue Firelight flickered around, as if each flame held a twisted, struggling face within it.

Gray and withered ghosts floated and packed together, numbering perhaps in the hundreds.

Their circumstances of death varied, not as frenzied as when they rushed the two men but arranged in orderly combinations instead.

Among them, a group of ghosts clad in Armor appeared to hold a higher status, guarding the perimeter.

Their aura felt like they were on the verge of reaching the Great Knight tier.

The two men tried to keep as low as possible, but those ghosts probably didn’t react to sound; Lind’s fighting style was anything but quiet.

"Is there really something? What are they doing?"

"Look there," Lind pointed to a corner up ahead.

The ghosts formed a line near a well; they seemed to retain some memories from their lives, at least certainly the instinct to survive, and jumped into the well reluctantly under the watchful gaze of the sword-bearing ghosts.

One ghost, two ghosts, three ghosts... and then a brand-new ghost emerged, donning Armor.

"Are they being reborn?"

"It might be a form of soul fusion," Lind muttered his conjecture softly.

Throw in three, fuse into one; déjà vu is a bit strong here.