Chapter 173 - 58: [Burrower Empress]

Chapter 173: Chapter 58: [Burrower Empress]

"I have an idea. Maybe we can... keep them under control for now," he said. His gaze swept over the [Holy Iron] entry on the UI interface, then slowly scanned the description for [Witch Gold].

"We haven’t found any iron or gold mines yet, right?" he asked in a low voice.

"No." Talia scrubbed Samael’s Armor furiously in frustration. "However, during the excavation, some rust-tinged water flowed in from the east. There might be iron ore deposits near Lahador’s lake in that direction. But as of now, there’s still no trace of any gold mines."

"That’s fine..." Samael shook his helmet. "I have an idea... perhaps we can defeat Lahador head-on. But we don’t have any suitable countermeasures against Anshiba and Pulangti just yet."

Talia brought over another bucket of water and drenched Samael from head to toe, washing away the last remaining traces of fermented pus.

Samael shook the water droplets off his body, emitting a loud CLANG CLANG of colliding metal. He raised his head, gazing up at the glowing fungi, plants, and animals on the lofty Underground City dome.

Right now, the number of bioluminescent organisms on the dome wasn’t particularly high. Their brightness wasn’t enough to illuminate the entire underground world just yet; it was roughly equivalent to the faint starlight on a cloudy night. To make up for the lack of lighting, lantern-like grass spheres hung everywhere in the tall, underground garden woodlands below, acting as streetlamps that blended perfectly with the environment.

These tall trees were not Insect Path Trees, but a type of towering Fungal Wood that the Demon Race called "Tower Mushrooms." Their fruiting bodies were rich in cellulose and lignin, giving them a texture almost identical to hard wood. Furthermore, they produced an abundance of edible, helmet-shaped fleshy growths, as well as spore balls for planting. The Fungal Wood had only been planted recently. Although they had already begun to sprout branching limbs in all directions like normal trees, they had not yet started producing the fleshy helmets or spore balls.

Yaki and the other architects were working in the distant Fungal Wood forest. The Burrowers had excavated a massive, yet relatively small lake. Meanwhile, the Rot Root Balls relied on their root tunnels and water channels to purify a portion of the groundwater from the Great Swamp in the south, channeling it here and slowly filling the lake through a steady trickle. The water level in the pool was already more than half full. The few plump, clawed fish that Samael had caught from the swamp had just been released into it and were swimming sluggishly through the water.

Not far away stood a cluster of temporary workshops. With the help of the Burrowers, rows of small cabins built from Molten Stone had sprung up from the ground.

Trunks of Fungal Wood were scattered haphazardly across the carpentry workshop. Three or four Demon Race Craftsmen were using the timber to make tables, chairs, wooden buckets, cups, plates, and other daily necessities. The Tree Ghost Monkeys pulled the saws back and forth with loud SQUEAK SQUEAK noises, while the Rot Root Balls scurried among the Craftsmen, balancing wooden nails and hammers on their heads.

Demonized materials collected from the Insect Maze were piled high in the temporary storehouse. The nearby woodworking furnace was smoldering with these materials to produce Demonized Charcoal, which could easily ignite Spiritual Flames at any time. The heat-resistant Burrowers stood guard in front of the furnace. They were all pitch-black, covered from head to toe in soot. Using their shovel-like giant claws, they scooped up handful after handful of Demonized Charcoal, piling it onto the nearby charcoal heap.

A few other Burrowers manned the Molten Stone calcination furnace, feeding Demonized Charcoal into the fire while simultaneously adding stone materials. Semi-plant creatures like the Rot Root Balls and Tree Ghost Monkeys were not heat-resistant and feared fire, so the Demon Race Craftsmen had previously been forced to handle the calcination work themselves. Now that the Burrowers had joined the Underground City, the furnaces could finally be overseen by low-intelligence Magical Beasts, freeing up the Craftsmen to focus on more complex tasks.

In the core area of the Underground City further back, seven or eight Molten Stone cabins had also been erected. With a well directly connected to the Rot Root Ball purification channel, a simple washroom, a communal kitchen for storing the Demon Race’s food, and temporary bedrooms for the demons to live in, every structure was arranged in an orderly, well-proportioned layout.

After nearly a month of construction, the initial buildings beneath the Underground City’s dome were completed. Thanks to the round-the-clock efforts of the Demon Race Craftsmen and the immense workforce provided by the Magical Beast slaves, the underground world was now teeming with life and thriving, looking almost like a newly built small town.

The faint glow of fungi twinkled across the dark dome. They were artificial stars cultivated by hand, firmly taking root in this man-made underground starry sky.

Samael quietly gazed at the cluster of buildings bathed in the dim fungal light, faintly recalling the joy he used to feel when watching cities spring up from nothing in video games.

He thought, "Building is, after all, much more fun than destroying..."

The Necromancer Civil War was approaching. To protect everything before him, he had to brace himself and rise to the challenge.

[High-Power Joint Engagement Activated]

A loud CLANG CLANG echoed as his entire Armor locked into place, and he strode toward the surface beyond the Insect Maze. On the surface stood his grave. And the graves of all the Ghost Knights.

He returned to the surface from the tunnel exit. The sky was already shrouded in darkness, with haze and fog filling every inch of the air.

Beneath the thunderclouds of the Gray Moss Far Field to the north, the deafening RUMBLE of war drums echoed, as piercing as a thunderclap.

Through the hollow mist of the Mist Lake to the east, the crisp sound of bells drifted over, erratic and elusive like a ghost.

Between the sludge and bloated tree trunks of the Great Swamp to the south echoed the dry, low rumble of a cello, resembling the gasps of a dying animal.

CLANG CLANG! CLANG CLANG! Samael forged a snare drum and hoisted his sword hilt to strike it viciously. The bright, penetrating drumbeats resonated within the Nether Copper chamber, carrying a sonorous, metallic texture that clashed against the Knights’ instruments from the bordering regions in the other three directions.

The resounding snare drums, the rumbling war drums, the ethereal bells, the dry cellos, the CLATTER of colliding trophy chains, the frantic strumming of a Nether Copper oscillation guitar, and the neurotic scratching of Nether Copper Limbs—all of these formed the Knights’ Heart of the Remains symphony.