Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 52 [Meeting of the Dead]

Bang!

The spider-shaped bronze structure, more than a person tall, walked unsteadily on the muddy ground, wearing a familiar one-eyed bell-shaped helmet. Three of its bronze limbs sank into the soil, and two limbs stepped on a rock in the soil, falling heavily onto the uneven ground. The six huge bronze limbs rummaged around haphazardly, clods of dirt flying everywhere.

To reduce weight and improve overall flexibility, it has no outer shell, and the internal components are directly exposed, with the drive wheels and transmission structure humming and pulling on each other.

Amidst a buzzing sound, the momentum wheel gyroscope of the Nether Bronze spun rapidly, coordinating with its erratic kicking limbs, attempting to flip its heavy body back onto its right side.

But it was no use; the enormous machine, made entirely of Nether Bronze, was simply too heavy to be moved.

Samael slapped his gauntlet onto his helmet to avoid seeing the gruesome state of the failed construct. He gave it a weary kick, shattering it into a pile of scattered components.

Thump. The heavy bronze power wheel fell off the gyroscope, rolled away, and crashed into a bell-shaped helmeted corpse demon in the distance.

The heavy, dark bronze wheel, more than half a person's height, slammed the Corpse Demon to the ground, crushing it directly across its face and leaving a deep wheel mark. It also crushed a groove in the armor on its body and flattened the small dark bronze drum on its breastplate.

Clang! The drive wheel crashed into a thick, rusty copper tree and tumbled to the ground.

The Corpse Demon slumped to its feet, slowly raising its arm. The one-eyed bell-shaped helmet glanced down at the straight wheel marks running from its feet to its face, then looked up innocently to meet the gaze of the Necromancer Lord Samael.

"Come here, let me fix it for you." Samael wanted to sigh, but he no longer had that ability.

He reached out and pressed his hand on the Knight Armor Corpse Demon, quickly repairing the damage to the Nether Bronze, and then waved his hand.

The Corpse Demon trotted back to its original position, carrying its sword and shield.

Fortunately, a dozen elite soldiers in bell-shaped helmets were dispatched in advance to guard the area around the Bronze Forest. Even if some chaos broke out, it wouldn't affect the demon exiles.

Samael plopped down on a broken, rusty copper tree trunk and looked around.

On a clearing in the rusted copper forest, scattered on a patch of ground, were random pieces of necromancer components and mechanical structures, connected in bizarre ways to form strange, unfinished structures.

The clearing in the woods resembled a makeshift workshop for making bronze machinery, but the workshop owner was clearly not very skilled in this craft.

None of the large-scale structures were successful.

The original intention was to create some Nether Bronze constructs to serve as subordinates—the structural strength of pure Nether Bronze would certainly be better than that of flesh and organic matter. However, upon actually using them, it was discovered that Nether Bronze constructs were difficult to operate normally in complex terrain environments, even making walking difficult.

Samael pulled a small, bronze-coated spider helmet from his breastplate—a mixture of necromancer bronze and sorcerer gold—and placed it on the soil at his feet. This was the construct he had previously used to infiltrate the Temple of the Forgers.

The little spider wiggled its limbs and managed to take two steps, then one of its limbs stuck into the soil. Samael manipulated it, trying to pull the limb out, but this resulted in it overturning itself.

It is only suited to hard, flat surfaces, such as the smooth stone floors and corridors of a temple, vertical high walls, brass armor, and the floor inside a carriage. Its arthropod claws are modified with small anchored tips that can adhere to brass materials, pierce wall surfaces, and snag textiles.

However, it is not suitable for soft soil.

When the construct is only the size of a fist, the momentum wheel gyroscope can still achieve rapid flipping and a stable state, but when the construct is more than a person tall, everything becomes extremely difficult.

The bronze was so heavy that its immense inertia caused the large construct to behave abnormally clumsily, with slow movements and poor balance, making even walking a problem.

Center of gravity, structural strength, movement. Gyroscope, drive wheel, bronze limbs. Every key point and every component has a large number of parameters that need to be adjusted, requiring constant trial and planning, designing the movement patterns of the limbs, and manually working on every detail from scratch.

Isn't there an easier way? He searched for explanations of relevant terms in the helmet's UI tech tree.

[Constructor Module Programming (Requirements: Artificial Life Science Level 5, Automation Level 5)]

"Where am I supposed to find the god of automation and the god of artificial life sciences..." Samael almost cursed. The frustration of making no progress after all this time had almost worn down even the necromancer's cold patience, and he was almost driven to the brink of madness.

Without modular programming technology, creating a construct is equivalent to hardware programming by hand-writing circuits.

In such cases, constructing a complete and usable large-scale funerary bronze structure might require months, even a year, of tireless research. Furthermore, if different terrains are encountered, it would necessitate starting from scratch, readjusting parameters and operational patterns…

It requires time and effort, and it requires changing the materials—perhaps the more efficient and smaller Witch Gold, or perhaps… bone? Lighter, porous bone?
Are there any related terms in materials science?
[Spiritual Bone. Materials Science Level 6, Chemical Engineering Level 3]

[Requirement: Organic Culture Group - Bone Regeneration Module]

[Due to a lack of advanced technology and equipment, manufacturing is temporarily impossible.]

We still need to find another "god of materials science" and "god of chemical engineering"... Samael covered his helmet with both hands, swaying back and forth, almost collapsing.

He suddenly understood why the other Ghost Knights were fighting over corpses and high-level undead, modifying existing undead, instead of fighting over copper mines and building their own Nether Bronze Constructs from scratch—what was the difference between that and working in a research and development position?
At least the naturally generated undead in the environment, as well as the undead created by the infiltration of corpse circuits, still retain their basic action modules and biological instincts from their previous lives, so there is no need to start from scratch and create a whole new set.

The Ghost Knights are probably not professional engineers. Even if they have the relevant knowledge and development experience, they probably wouldn't be able to handle the workload of writing circuit hardware programs from scratch.

The spirit bones can't be used for the time being, so what about witch metal? ... Witch metal requires gold to be smelted and transformed, so where can we find gold mines? Maybe we can dig them up underground?

Samael wearily lowered his arms, melted down and recycled the scattered Nether Bronze components, intending to go to the Tall Grass Plain where the underground city was being built, hoping to find some useful minerals during the underground construction and excavation process.

After so many days of renovation and construction, and with the constant trampling of exiles and undead laborers, the tall grass has been trodden into a maze of paths.

He walked along the path back to the camp in the center of the tall grass plain, and paused for a moment.

The campsite was in a flurry of activity as everyone busied themselves packing their belongings, organizing the tents and living supplies, tying them together with ropes, and wrapping them in tarpaulins for easy transport.

The undead stood around the bell-helmeted war drum corpse demon, swaying slightly and lost in thought, like bewildered travelers wandering in the darkness.

Just as Samael was puzzled, at the entrance of the insect network, with a clanging sound, a bell-shaped helmeted root ball holding a tree branch slowly rose from the tunnel entrance, followed by Achi's head and upper body.

His face was covered in dust, and he had a bell-shaped helmet-shaped root ball on his head, with an excited expression on his face.

"Boss, you're back!" He looked at Samael excitedly. "The dome is finished, and the inspection is fine. Now we can start modifying the internal ecosystem and preparing the internal buildings!"

"What are they doing? Packing their bags?" Samael instinctively looked around.

“No, it means we can move into the insect tunnel to live now—Gwyneth and the others catalyzed and accelerated plant growth, and in three or four days, the insect tunnel ecosystem has begun to take shape.” Archie took the rotten root ball off his head and pointed to the tunnel behind him.

"The thick layers of soil and the fused stone reinforcement prevent heat loss, making the tunnel quite warm."

"Next, we'll move the equipment from the temporary camp outside in, and relocate the entire camp into the insect network. The rest of the work will be done underground—we'll dig out a new world from the darkness, and bioluminescent fungi and plants and animals will illuminate the dome we've built with our own hands, illuminating our path."

"Can't we just move it into the dome?" Samael asked.

Yachi shook his head.

“Boss Ronoway just used the demonic insects to dismantle the dome and pillars, removing the rocks and soil. But it's stuffy inside; entering rashly might cause suffocation. We need to use the surrounding insect tunnel network for ventilation first, then introduce plants like tendril ferns to reproduce, improve air quality, and get the air circulating.” Lack of oxygen… Samael was slightly taken aback. Had the demons already developed a basic awareness of oxygen?

"Let me help carry this." He directed the undead, intending to assist the exiles in dismantling the tents and transporting the packed bedding rolls into the worm tunnel.

As the drums beat, the undead began to move, but suddenly stopped.

Jingle Bell.

[Ghost Copper Resonance Signal - Command Conflict]

Please avoid operating multiple signal sources simultaneously.

A faint, ethereal sound of a bronze bell drifted from the distant eastern mist, and several figures approached through the fog.

The exiles looked at each other, somewhat uneasy, and instinctively began to search for weapons, preparing to command the monsters.

"No...it's alright. Everyone, please step back and enter the insect passage to take shelter for now," Samael shouted, slowly raising his sword and shield.

Clang! Clang! Clang! The sword hilt struck the shield, producing a loud and penetrating sound.

Clatter! Clatter! The sword-and-shield ghoul knights, their breastplates adorned with bronze war drums and bell-shaped helmets, advanced slowly and in unison to the bright drumbeats. They traversed the rusted bronze forest and the tall grass plains, standing in a row on the tall grass border of the eastern mist. Their heavy shields converged into a shield wall, their knightly swords poised to strike from behind.

“We can help too.” Yachi squeezed through the tall grass and whispered behind Samael, “There are some powerful magical beasts hiding in the tall grass over here, strong carrion-eating magical beasts that can hunt down spirits. We can use them…”

“No, no need, thank you,” Samael replied. “This is a matter between me and my kind.”

Amidst the ethereal sound of the bronze bells, five rotting corpse demons, clad in tattered chainmail robes, slowly emerged from the damp, misty eastern air. They had no legs, but instead possessed serpentine lower bodies and centipede-like bronze limbs that moved slowly.

The clicking and clattering of arthropods, the rustling of rotting flesh and scales, and the rustling of chainmail echoed through the mist.

The five ghouls wore owl-like Collins helmets; one held aloft a long staff of ghoul bronze with hanging bells, two others wielded massive, serrated scythes, and two others carried morning star hammers covered in sharp spikes. Small ghoul bronze bells hung around their necks, jingling softly against their chainmail.

Rahador's tactical style appears to be bleeding, limb amputation, creating massive lacerations, and brutal, rapid kills.

Perhaps he is an assassin-type ghost knight.

But... only five elite units? Aren't they here to attack?
Samael picked up his sword and shield, slowly stood in front of the battle line, and pondered and planned the possible situations and tactics to deal with different situations.

"Samael, my good brother!" The chainmail-armored ghoul demon, holding a bell-studded staff, shouted excitedly from afar, "Now we're neighbors, good friends! Little Samael!"

What... This unexpected situation left Samael momentarily at a loss for how to respond. But thinking back, the other party had also been enthusiastic and cheerful last time, only to suddenly unleash a flurry of razor-inlaid nightmare tendrils during the handshake.

Four ghouls, each wielding a giant scythe and a spiked morning star hammer, halted at the edge of the mist, standing silently like a monarch's entourage, flanking the chainmail ghoul who held a bell-staffed staff.

"Good brother! Long time no see, have you moved yet?" The leader, a rotting corpse demon carrying a bell-shaped staff, trotted over with his bronze limbs and serpentine body, opening his rotting arms to enthusiastically embrace Samael. "Is your tomb settled? I'll bring you some furniture to decorate the tomb, do you want some?"

Samael took a half step back, and before the chainmail-clad ghoul demon could close in on him, he slipped behind the wall of ghoul knights' bronze shields.

With a clang, the chainmail-armored ghoul slammed into the shield wall, and with a creaking sound, it slid down the shield wall little by little to the ground.

"Oh dear, oh dear, I was just joking with you last time! You really are something else, how can you not take a joke? It's really heartbreaking!" The chainmail ghoul lay on the ground in front of the shield wall, writhing and acting like a giant python, while Rahador's cheeky voice came from under the Collins helmet.

"We cannot be easily destroyed. Last time's little joke might have left a few scratches on your breastplate, just to see how you were doing!"

"What are you doing here?" The shield-wielding Corpse Knight lowered his head slightly, looking down at the long-staffed, chainmail-armored Corpse Demon writhing in front of the shield wall. Samael's voice rang out from under his bronze bell-shaped helmet.

"Shall we talk face to face, my dear fellow?" The chainmail-armored corpse demon scurried to its feet, leaning on its bell-ringed staff, and tentatively suggested with a playful tone, "Let's talk about our true forms face to face."

“Your main body isn’t here; you’ve only sent five elite units,” Samael replied. “There’s no need for further discussion.”

“No, no, no, little Sa, my good brother, these five are just messengers and an honor guard to clear the way. They came ahead of time to let you know as a sign of respect. My true form is right here.” Rahadu’s voice echoed from the mist.

Clang, clang. The soft clattering of the bronze echoed through the mist.

Accompanied by the rustling sound of chainmail, a gaunt and sharp-looking figure in a long, thin suit of dark bronze armor slowly emerged from the mist and stood quietly at the edge of the fog.

His slingback boots bent slightly as he stepped, making a smooth, silent contact with the ground, like a ghost.

Rahador's helmet was a winged helmet adorned with bird wings on both sides. The upper half of his face was surrounded by plates of dark bronze armor, creating owl-like eye openings, and was decorated with dark bronze wings on both sides. The lower half of his face was a dark bronze mask with openwork twisted vertical stripes, and a layer of dark bronze chainmail was placed around his neck.

His body was made of thin, withered armor with sharp, hook-shaped barbs and segmented, flexible joints. The gaps between the joints were covered with black bronze chainmail, and through the gaps in the chainmail, one could see the empty darkness inside the armor.

Excess chainmail edges dangled from the gaps in his thin limbs, shoulder armor, and torso, with fine bronze chainmail rings scattered about, making a soft rustling sound with his movements, resembling a tattered robe or tattered, decaying wings.

As expected, he's an agile type... Samael examined Rahado's body structure.

“We are the same kind, Samael.” The lightly armored knight in the Heroic Spirit Winged Helmet stood before the mist, cautiously keeping a distance, and opened his arms to Samael’s shield wall as if to embrace him. “We are both otherworldly souls summoned here. Perhaps, you and I even come from the same place, the same era.”

“Samael.” Talia’s hand grasped his shoulder armor, and she whispered his name from behind.

“Shut up, you living people.” Rahador raised his thin arm guard, his sharp, dark bronze fingertips pointing at Talia and the demon exiles behind her. “This is the realm of the dead. In the Plains of Bones, the living have no right to speak. You are only fit to die and offer your corpses up, understand?”

A cold buzzing sound echoed beneath his winged helmet, like the hollow laughter of a lord of the dead.

Talia snorted coldly, still gripping Samael's shoulder armor tightly.

“Little Samael, my dear brother.” Rahado turned to Samael, “Although I don’t know why you’re hanging out with the living people, let’s get the living people out of here and have a chat, shall we?”

Separated by the shield wall of the Corpse Knights and the procession of the Scythe-wielding Corpse Demons, the empty eye sockets on the helmets of the two Ghost Knights stared at each other silently, like two voids gazing at each other, two kinds of death looking at each other.

Samael remained silent.

"You should retreat to the camp and rest for a while," he finally said.

"What?" Talia exclaimed in shock. "You don't actually believe this guy on the other side..."

“I don’t believe it,” Samael replied softly, gazing at Rahadol standing quietly not far away. “But he may possess some important information, and I need that information.”

"Let me talk to him."

(End of this chapter)