Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

"Ring? What ring..."

Maldette was stunned for a moment, but soon his eyes reflected a glittering gold ring inlaid with an exquisite purple gem.

"This is impossible! Where did you get it? It's fake, fake! Don't try to fool me!" The funeral bishop screamed excitedly, twisting his body to struggle, but he was quickly subdued to the ground, unable to move at all.

"Is it fake?" Ron smiled calmly. The two people on the other side were obviously unable to resist. He had plenty of time to dig out more things from them. "Then tell me, where did I see it from to make such a fake one?"

The cultist was silent - he did not have a good relationship with the other three bishops, or rather, they did not have a good relationship at all - but that did not mean he believed that the other three would show such an important thing to others, let alone to the earth thief that their master was most eager to get rid of!

As for the possibility of rebellion, Maldette had never thought of this possibility. It was completely nonsense. There was an unimaginably strong connection between the funeral bishop and the "gods". He did not believe that anyone would do such a thing.

"……who is it?"

There was only one possibility, Maldette thought. A bishop had been martyred, and in a situation where he could not resist.

Just like he is now.

"I don't think you need to know so much," Ron fumbled with the ring in his hand, "Since you have guessed it, just hand it over. I can let you be free quickly. It's up to you to accompany your ancestors or that lich."

Maldette looked at Ron and suddenly laughed: "No, that's impossible. You won't let me off like that, right? I've been studying this for many years, you can't fool me."

"I won't let you succeed - if you dare to search my soul, you will find nothing!"

"It sounds like we are the villains," Sylvia said with a "tsk". "We have never had that kind of habit, but... "

The vampire bared his fangs at the bishop: "See? I will torture you slowly. Every day, I will have you drink a small cup of blood, eat a small piece of meat, and then cast a spell until you grow back."

"You! You devil!"

"I'm not, but I could be," Sylvia shrugged, turned to look at Ron and gave him a subtle smile, "My benefactor, you decide."

"Perhaps this is a more reasonable approach, don't you think, Maldette?"

The funeral bishop looked at the other people around him as if asking for help, but no one responded. The barbarians looked at him with interest, the half-elf turned away, the priest of Heim just lowered his head and closed his eyes slightly, and as for his fellow church member... Maldet could not count on him at all.

"Okay, okay, here you go, you win, take it!" Maldette compromised, he opened his mouth, Ron felt a certain vibration in the space, and as the vibration ended, an exquisite ornament exactly the same as the ring in Ron's hand fell to the ground, making a crisp sound, "But don't be too happy too soon! God's Side will take them back from you! It is the true chosen one of our Lord, you are definitely not its opponent!" "Oh? Are you so sure?" Ron picked up the ring with a little disdain, but when he looked up, he showed an interested expression, "Tell me about it, how about it? What kind of powerful power does it have to enable it to achieve this goal?"

The funeral bishop had a gloomy face and let out low growls caused by physical pain, without answering a single word.

"That was a dragon, a real dragon, not a dragonborn, a dragonman, or anything else," the corpse collector, who had been barely noticeable before, suddenly spoke, causing the bishop to turn around in astonishment. "I've seen it before, in the dark, very far away."

"Don't look at me like that. I just want to die peacefully." Noticing the gaze of his fellow believers, the corpse collector smiled bitterly, frowned, and coughed up a piece of black bruises of unknown tissue. "I have collected corpses for the Kingdom of Falama and Green Swamp Town. I have done my best to be loyal to the Lord."

"You haven't done enough for the Kingdom of Faramar."

Sera snorted and kicked the man in the stomach, causing him to vomit out a large piece of tissue. The corpse collector's face turned pale instantly, but slowly became a little rosy and tired. "Thank you, ma'am. I feel much better now, but I'm closer to death."

"Is this the source of your power?" Ron frowned, trying to identify the things on the ground that were already separated from the body but were still rolling and twisting - he didn't think those things could be called "organs", but rather more like some kind of parasites.

"God, let me put it this way," the corpse collector coughed weakly a few times, "Can you give me a quick death now? I feel my strength is rapidly fading, and it is impossible for me to continue to maintain the physique of a young man - ah!"

Suddenly, the black dragon tattoo on the corpse collector's head seemed to come alive, and turned into a shadow that flew out, circling above the corpse collector like a vulture for several weeks, and finally swooped down with a roar, bringing up a handful of filthy blood plasma.

The corpse collector was dead, but his death was probably not so peaceful. Because when Ron wiped the blood off his face, he only saw his mandible - the skull part above was gone.

"Are you ready?" Ron blinked and looked at Maldette, "I mean..."

"I'm ready! No, I'm not ready! I mean ok--enough, do it!"

The sudden death of the church member caused great psychological pressure to this man who had been immersed in the soul and mind for many years. If such a bloody masterpiece came from Ron's hands, he would not even blink an eye. But it was a punishment from his master! He had never thought of or even seen it in this way!

They are all captives! They don't even want to live! These earth stealers already know that their leader is a dragon lich. Is it a secret that the side of the god is a corrupted dragon? !
"Alas, may you rest in peace in the dead." Ron stretched out his hand to cover the man's face, forcing his eyes, which were wide open with fear, to close. A wisp of gray mist appeared quietly, silently taking his soul away.

The survivors here were dead, and the cultists who killed the survivors were also dead. Ron stood up and walked towards the door.

"Ron, where are we going next?" Sera asked as she caught up with him.

"Another area," Ron nodded, motioning for his companions to follow, "The Ender showed me something from his memory." (End of this chapter)