Chapter 2191 - 766: The Open Door

Hill didn’t think the Styx, with whom he had a brief conversation, would care about the Undead Tribe.

To him, these souls don’t belong to him at all, no matter what is done; anyway, the Undead Tribe definitely won’t massively steal his souls.

The fact that the Styx doesn’t even mind the deities fishing souls out from him shows just what ’a lot’ really means to him.

It’s like this world, where for thousands of years hardly any souls entered the Styx, and its tributaries were nearly severed before he slowly reacted.

Moreover, his resistance was particularly weak, obviously just a gentle wave of the paw, if they go away fine, if not, so be it.

What made the Styx choose to closely watch the Undead Tribe... it must be because of Lansendel, right?

The endlessly congested Styx of Toril must have left a deep impression on the old man, making him go crazy.

When AO rebooted the world, it didn’t cause such trouble... that guy would stash most of the souls in his Aber dimension, and when the world was about right, he would release them back into Toril.

The event with Lansendel was truly unexpected; crucially, he even planned to take all the souls back to his Divine Kingdom... and the Underworld jokes from that period were basically about a desolate elven lady by the riverbank looking forlornly.

No matter how you communicate with her, she keeps fixating on one line: "Why hasn’t Dawn come yet?"

Even if you keep telling her there’s no dawn in the Styx, it’s no use.

Until 100 years later, you plan to head towards extinction, allowing your soul power to return to the Styx, with a little aura left before reincarnating, you realize... Dawn really does shine above the Styx.

The diligent Great Peacock seeking followers appears gracefully in the dull and dark world... with some unfortunate death gods from unknown worlds shouting loudly: "Lord of Dawn! You’re crossing the boundary!

Don’t use the Light of Purification in the Styx! What are you doing!"

Then the beautiful elf lady, her grayish soul shining brightly in the rosy Light of Dawn: "I knew Dawn would come!"

It all ends in a happy ending: he goes on with his life, the other returns to the Divine Kingdom, and perhaps one day when someone respectfully greets the Lord of Dawn, they might casually mention: "Ah~ we talked once before."

Hill still remembers the shock when he first heard this story, and... his indifference to the various subsequent stories of the same series but different styles.

You have to know, deities can sense when they are written about.

So, the story can be exaggerated, but it can’t lie.

Even if these guys may not have chatted with a soul, unwilling to give up their own soul power after hundreds or thousands of years... most souls don’t choose another life until their soul power is depleted, left with only a little aura.

After all, without the protection of divinity and divinity grid, the aura will never be truly their own.

Reincarnation in the fantasy world is quite thorough, it’s impossible to suddenly remember past lives... unless they weren’t human to begin with.

But in all those stories, the fundamental threads must truly depict reality... a lost elven soul and Lansendel tirelessly searching for hundreds or thousands of years.

And those unfortunate death gods who had the Light of Dawn crash through their Netherworld gates.

Faced with such a big event, which Grim Reaper doesn’t grumble a few words when communicating with the Styx?

Even Jacob, who loved to keep to himself, once openly criticized the Lord of Dawn for being too slow, and too muddled.

Even though everyone knows he was momentarily dazed from being backstabbed by a Supreme God... but, who started it all?

From the beginning, no one thought Lansendel could succeed, except he himself.

Hill genuinely suspects Lansendel was someone the Styx was guarding against because the Undead Tribe could be dispatched by him.

Although back then, the number of elves far exceeded the Undead People... everyone knew the destructiveness was not on the same level.

And these guys don’t have souls themselves, not meaning they can’t send other souls down the Styx again... it’s one thing to block traffic, but to create another millennia-long search fueled with sob stories, the Styx wouldn’t want to hear all that!

Moreover, what can one door do?

Doesn’t following prevent getting lost?

Finally realizing this point, Hill glanced at the brazen Lansendel and felt suddenly relieved... This guy associating with the Undead Tribe could scare the Styx more than dealing with Asmodeus did.

So when he acted very seriously and over-prepared when he knew the Undead Tribe planned to trouble him, everyone could understand, right?

And for Hill, even if the Styx, such a supremely powerful being, had to tread carefully around the Undead Tribe... getting caught by them himself isn’t too disgraceful.

Having suddenly convinced himself, Hill looked at the slowly opening metal door, feeling completely relaxed.

"Whoa ahhhhhhhh!"

"Don’t push! Don’t push!"

"It’s a valley, a valley! Don’t push, people will die!"

"Move your damned ass~ Hurry up!!"

"The ones at the front move faster, the ones at the back slower! I’m dead before even getting in!"

"Can the one at the back stop pushing? I’m quite a big guy!"

"Can the one in front stop being so flirtatious? I don’t even have any!"

Hill took a deep breath... Ah, such a familiar scent.

Shaer, who was originally sitting next to him, suddenly moved the sofa and sat under the canopy Windmill Jasmine had set up at the back, hiding behind the clusters of pretty white flowers.

The bizarre insults from the Undead Tribe probably reminded her of some unpleasant memories.

But Lansendel was stomping his feet excitedly... Clearly, he was listening with great joy, his heart shining bright.

To him, the future was indeed pretty promising.

The three at the top of the Magic Tower, regardless of their feelings, were actually fine... Not only mentally prepared but also with the reality of distance.

But standing at the foot of the mountain, waiting to welcome these visitors from the Otherworld, Josh, Russell, and Carpenter were shocked into expressionless faces by the terrifyingly chaotic dialogues transmitted into their ears.

"List, did you remind those three..." Hill gently asked.

"I did say, and warned them that words can barely describe one percent of the Undead Tribe," List appeared calmly, "But it seems, I might have been too mild with my words.

The Undead Tribe seems to have evolved!"

Hmm... Probably the result of over-familiarity.

After all, no matter how fun a game is, it’s always targeted at specific customer groups, and once certain factions establish a dominant advantage, capable newcomers become fewer... Although they could probably handle it, why start with hell difficulty?

There are definitely newcomers since such a lively game is likely rare even in the Undead Tribe’s world... Don’t doubt how many can guess there’s something wrong with this game, the World Will of the World Without Magic is surely strong enough.

Allowing William and the God of Time and Space to enter naturally means there’s enough confidence to hide everything inappropriate below the surface.

Of course, Hill doesn’t know if there’s any sense among those excessively close to the Deities, but... the majority surely don’t feel anything.

So, every game has its peaks and troughs, just because the lifespan of the Undead Tribe is relatively long, and indeed many are willing to treat this game as their retirement game.

Even with accelerated time, these millions... especially those consistently earning enough Merit Points, have all been in the same game together for many years.

The ladies of Cunlü and the Southern Wind should have all started school.

Even those fighting against each other are likely more familiar with one another than next-door neighbors.

Once it reaches this level... the content of their conversations would be inevitably more diverse.

Hill took a light breath.

Obviously, he had convinced himself earlier, but once he realized the combat power of the Undead Tribe had indeed increased, he felt a bit uneasy again!

He, how is he...

Right, the reason he’s so nervous is all because of a few words from Shaer... Otherwise, having already known he might hear the ’Lost Little Bear’s Song’ again, he’d be prepared to retaliate, Hill really shouldn’t be in this state right now!

Did he offend Shaer during this time?

Hill felt a bit baffled but couldn’t recall... This level of retribution must mean he accidentally said something wrong or responded to someone he shouldn’t have.

But he seemed to have barely communicated with Celene!

Unable to figure it out, Hill decided to go over it slowly later... Yet he was still confident he didn’t truly make a mistake.

It must be Shaer’s sudden pettiness.

Maybe even William said something he shouldn’t have, implicating him.

"Hey hey, the young master is here." Lansendel cheerfully raised a paw, pointing at the team that suddenly shrank in stature.

Only then did Hill realize... the Undead Tribe must be using their Elemental Bodies in Teraxil.

All in human form, thus the short and stout boys and girls appeared once again.

Other teams might also play the roles of little boys and girls, but only the young master’s team all appear as shorties.

And they’re wearing the same little leather outfits they wore during group fights before.

Although all dressed in black, when tens of thousands of them gather in one place, they are still very noticeable.

Especially standing next to the towering members of the Battlefield Family.

’Snow Cloud Peak’ must have arranged things specifically, so the ones walking in first are their Magic Cult, then several small families, with Battlefield and Wenjian sandwiched in the middle, followed by Night Hawk who also enjoys playing Knight Corps... The Black Rose that Hill is more familiar with is likely at the back as the anchor.

It seems that although their faction remains strong, Proud Sky Alliance is not without opponents, otherwise they wouldn’t be so cautious.