Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 64 [Deer in the Forest and Horses on the Plain]

"The gods?" Talia looked at him.

She curled up, hugging her knees, her whole body huddled in the shadow of the enormous throne, swaying gently beneath the high ceiling of the throne room.

The throne room was too large, and the throne itself was a bit too spacious for her. After all, she was slender and tall, and without the broad shoulder armor occupying the throne, she appeared exceptionally petite.

Samael nodded.

“Also, the relationship between other races and the gods,” he added. “Perhaps you know something about that.”

Talia gazed at him silently.

"Has anyone told you anything about the demons?" she asked. "About the demons and psionic energy?"

Samael was taken aback.

"Yes." He hesitated for a few seconds before finally answering.

Talia let out a slow, heavy sigh.

“My mother used to tell me some ancient myths.” She yawned, her eyes dark, stretched wearily, bent her legs to the side, and stretched out her arms in the vast throne. “Humans are the offspring of the gods.”

"They are the children most favored by the gods, and they look exactly like the gods. After the demons descended, humans emerged from a glowing mirror and walked on the earth, farming, hunting, and living in the image of the gods."

"Elves and dwarves are companions bestowed upon humankind by the gods, created by different deities. The Breeders created elves from green leaves, fruits, and the entrails of wild beasts, while the Forgers created dwarves from rocks, minerals, and underground magma."

"The demons are hated and despised by the gods. Long, long ago, the demons were slaves of humans. Humans used powerful spiritual energy-based creations given by the gods as weapons to enslave the demons."

"Later, something seemed to happen to the gods; most of them died or were injured, and the remaining gods also left this place. Under the leadership of an ancient monarch known as the Blasphemer, the demons rose up in rebellion and overthrew human rule."

"That is why demons usually hate humans, and also hate elves and dwarves."

"Before the Adventurers' Alliance came into being, the demons often waged wars with hatred, attacking the borders of human kingdoms with earth-eating worms and hordes of cave dwellers—but the demons were not united and often fought among themselves, and no single dungeon lord had the power to destroy a kingdom."

"After the Adventurers' Alliance appeared, a large number of adventurers flocked to the dungeons, attracted by the money, and frantically collected spiritual energy resources. This also accelerated the consumption of spiritual energy in the dungeons, making the area of ​​the Desolate Demon Realm smaller and smaller. The demons' situation became more and more difficult, and they gradually lost the ability to launch large-scale proactive attacks."

“So, about psionic powers…” Samuelton paused.

“That’s something left behind by the gods. In the beginning, they infused the earth with spiritual energy. The demons consumed the spiritual energy, making the earth vibrant with life—but the total amount of spiritual energy in this world is limited, and it will eventually be exhausted.” Talia tilted her head slightly, her gray hair falling down the side of her cheek. “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

"Currently, there are only a few ways to obtain more psionic energy."

"Conquer other monarchs, occupy more barren demonic realms rich in spiritual energy, and obtain more spiritual energy ecological resources from them."

"Or... high-level demons, as well as advanced adventurers who have been modified by a large number of potion products, all have a large amount of spiritual energy in their bodies."

"The corpse of a level nine adventurer contains enough psionic energy to keep a small dungeon running for an extra day. The corpse of a level ten adventurer contains enough to keep a small dungeon running for an extra week—that's why most monarchs wage war against each other and constantly lure high-level adventurers to their deaths."

"In addition, many powerful psionic artifacts remain in the ruins of the Age of Gods or in human kingdoms in the habitable zone. These are the legacies of the gods, and each psionic artifact is full of psionic energy."

"If you can get one or two relics of the gods and bury them below the core palace area, you might be able to keep the dungeon running for decades. Many powerful demon lords have hidden psionic relics in the dungeon to power it. For example, Valak and Berenor. These lords usually live a very leisurely life."

"Perhaps there are other ways to obtain psionic energy—but we haven't found them yet."

Samael nodded slowly.

"Then I'll go sweep through the Corpse Hearts first," he said simply, turning to leave.

“Samael.” Talia’s voice sounded from behind.

He stopped the clanging of his boots, the two swords at his waist hanging from chains, swaying and colliding due to inertia.

He turned his helmet and looked at the weary figure huddled on the throne.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Talia said.

“Not much has changed,” Samael said somberly. “Nothing.”

The two stared at each other in silence.

"You've been hiding these things about the demon race from me all this time?" Samael asked. "These dark, cruel truths? Enslavement, hatred, being created as tools and slaves, running headlong towards a predetermined death with hatred in your heart?"

“I’ve never wanted to tell you about our race, about this world,” Talia said, looking at him. “Because I don’t want you to become like us, like this world, filled with hatred.”

"You love this wonderful and unfamiliar world, and you are full of curiosity, joy, happiness and anticipation for it. You love everyone in this world as if you were a god loving all mankind."

"This world has indeed been very unkind to us, but I don't want to destroy your love for the world, and I don't want you to become worse because of it."

"You are the sun that illuminates my world, and I don't want the sunlight to be stained black by dirt."

"I'm sorry, this world is not full of kindness. Perhaps everyone is a villain, or perhaps everyone is a blasphemous sinner."

silence.

“Hmm,” Samael responded. “After I’ve finished clearing out the cores, I’ll see what’s underground—maybe there’s something else that can replenish my psionic energy.”

He slowly turned his armored body back and left amidst the heavy clanging of the armor.

Talia, clutching the newly completed knight doll, curled up in the chair, staring blankly at his back.

……

On the border of the gray moss-covered wilderness, flocks of birds flapped their wings under the gloomy sky, landing on the heads of the skeleton-forged warhorses, on their thick antlers, and on their massive, battering ram-like shoulder armor.

Ansba sat quietly against a large rock. The massive, cast-iron warhorse, its joints reinforced with coarse bronze, stood docilely beside him, like a long-legged, sturdy armored vehicle.

The broad and heavy flame-shaped greatsword was stuck in the soil beside him, like a flame-shaped tombstone of ghost bronze.

A dozen or so barrel-helmed skeleton warriors, dragging cloaks woven from moss and roots, wandered slowly around Ansba, guarding their lord.

It was 10:49 a.m., and dappled sunlight filtered through the clouds. Ansba stared at the local meridian time displayed on his UI, lost in thought.

The agreed time was 11:00 AM.

He tried to move the heavy, massive frog-beak helmet—it was a bit difficult. After all, to enhance its defensive capabilities, he had welded the helmet to his breastplate using thick plates of ghost bronze.

He looked at the taro monster sitting on the ground in front of him, and examined the strange bronze bell-shaped helmet on the monster's head.

The taro monster noticed his gaze, raised its head, and looked at Ansba.

"Oh dear!" Taro said, "Please wait... a few seconds."

Ansba shifted his gaze, and on the edge of the tall grass plain in front of him, a dozen sword-and-shield corpse knights moved sideways to make way, forming a long corridor guarded by knights' swords.

The sharply defined Gothic knight's helmet passed through the corridor guarded by the bronze swords, the shield on its back, the two swords at its waist, and the armor clinking together slightly.

It was 10:50. Ansba stared at the time displayed on the UI.

The other party arrived here ten minutes early. The number ten is a whole number.

Ansba is a bit of a perfectionist; he likes to be punctual and likes round numbers.

A guy who's punctual and uses whole numbers might not be so bad, he thought.

"What do you want?" Ansbar's booming voice echoed from within the breastplate.

“The truth,” Samael replied, “and the covenant.”

“The truth? What is that?” Ansba slowly got up.

Even disregarding the height of the antler decorations, Ansba was half a helmet taller than Samael.

A massive shadow loomed over Samael, who tilted his head slightly but showed no fear.

“About sinners, about gods, about the truth of everything,” Samael replied. “Why do you call all intelligent human races sinners? Is it because their ancestors violated ethics and enslaved other intelligent races?”

“What is that? That’s what the extermination system calls it,” Ansba replied. “It gave me the job of extermination, and that’s what I do. Everyone has their own responsibilities, and everything has to be in order. If no one does the important work, then everything will fall apart.”

“Besides, you’ve seen the results of the judgment. They were sinners to begin with,” he stubbornly added. “You should have realized that sooner.”

“I won’t delve into all of this for now. Because for me, there are more important things to do right now.” Samael waved his hand. “The alliance.”

"You?" Ansba asked, "To ally with me?"

Samael nodded.

“You are the only Ghost Knight I’m willing to communicate with at least a little bit right now—though you’re a bit inflexible,” he replied. “You are also the most stable and strongest Knight I’ve encountered so far.”

“Then why should I ally with you?” Ansbarr asked rumbled. “Do I look weak? Or are you seeking refuge? I don’t have time for that. I’m not a lazy bum; I have a proper job—some people work to live, but I live to work.”

“No, this is equal cooperation,” Samael explained. “Each knight has limited energy and attention. If we are attacked from multiple directions at the same time, it is easy to lose sight of one side or be attacked from behind by other knights.”

“I heard from afar that when you were dealing with Decogon, you were outflanked by Rahador. If you don’t cooperate, this kind of thing will probably happen many more times.”

“Hmm…” Ansba murmured. The birds on the antlers swayed and glided about on the perches formed by the antlers as his helmet swayed.

“The contents of the covenant,” he finally said.

"First, we will no longer fight in any form; we will fight together. If either of us is attacked, the other must assist in the fight, helping to defend the tomb's corpse storage area or tying down enemy forces." Samael raised the index finger of his gauntlet.

“Fair and just, perfectly acceptable,” Ansba replied. “Next point.”

"Secondly, we will exchange our unique undead resources in our respective areas to enrich our unit types." Samael held up two fingers on his gauntlet. "We can choose, negotiate the value, and exchange undead units of equal value that both sides are satisfied with."

“Your territory is that Rusted Copper Forest and the Tall Grass Plains,” Ansba said. “The worm-eaten warriors buried in the hollowed-out trunks and root nodules of the Rusted Copper Forest are the same as those in my wasteland. The Tall Grass Plains only have limp, rotting carrion demons, which I don’t want.”

Samael paused slightly.

Buried among the worm-eaten trunks and root nodules of the rusted copper forest are the skeleton warriors.

So that's how the Skeleton Warriors came to be? No wonder I hadn't found the Skeleton Warriors made of rusted copper roots, bones, and rocks—I hadn't dug there since confirming that the rusted copper tree might be harmful to living things. Every time I harvested copper from the rusted copper tree, I would just destroy the trunk directly, never paying attention to the roots.

They arrived at the Heart of the Bones earlier than us, which certainly gave them a significant advantage.

He silently memorized the information, gazing at Ansba.

“My necromancer possesses unique combat skills. They come from the elite warriors of the living,” he replied. “Perhaps you will be interested in some of them.”

Ansba remained silent for a moment.

“Show me,” he said.

Thump! A shield-and-hammer knight behind Samael erected a bronze tower shield on the ground.

Samael stretched out his hand, and three or four bronze spears solidified from his palm, firmly supporting the tower shield on the ground.

Wow!

A massive, fleshy crawler brandished its tentacles, smashing through the tall grass and emerging from a concealed area on the high grass plain, charging forward at full speed. The rotting knights on its backs raised their lances high and charged fiercely toward the heavy Nether Bronze Tower Shield.

[Charged Impact]! A strike that accelerates wildly using the power of the vehicle!
Clang! Amidst the resounding metallic clang of the impact, the thick tower shield was forcefully pierced by the accelerating [Charged Impact] lance!
Within the limitations of his heavy body, Ansba stepped forward as quickly as possible, checking the thickness of the tower shield and the penetration range of the lance.

“A shield of this size can’t be penetrated by a normal charge… at most, it can only knock you back. This is some kind of combat technique,” ​​Ansba said in a low voice. “Moreover, this huge, fleshy mass of tentacles can run through the tangled roots of tall grass…”

“While flesh crawlers don’t have the same strong defense as skeleton warhorses, they are more agile and better able to adapt to complex terrain,” Samael explained. “However, they may not be able to carry heavy skeleton warriors. If you want to use them to form a cavalry force, you’d better order them along with corpse knights—after all, only corpse knights have combat skills.”

Ansba glanced at Samael through the gap in his helmet.

"Have you ever sold insurance before?" he asked. "Or were you in sales in general?"

"No, it's just that I did part-time jobs in college, working as a supermarket clerk and salesperson," Samael shrugged. "They usually have buy-one-get-one-free promotions to bundle sales, like giving a free drink if you buy cakes for a certain amount..."

"I want to use the Necromancer to exchange for combat skills," Ansba hurriedly replied.

He may seem a little slow, but he's actually quite shrewd.

“Your extermination system can’t record new combat techniques,” Samael chuckled.

“Then, inscribe my Skeleton Knights and Antlered Warhorses.” Ansba, who was usually so leisurely, was unusually in a hurry. “I will trade undead and corpses for it—you have to add the skill inscription service to the inventory, I want skill inscription.”

"What about the flesh crawlers and rotting knights?" Samael probed. "I have other units that might interest you?"

“Me too.” Ansba held up the massive bronze gauntlet, making a grasping motion. “I want them all! How many corpses do you want? We’ll talk about it later! Show me all the combat skills you have later. We’ll choose slowly.”

“Okay… don’t rush.” Samael looked at the excited, antler-covered giant before him, a hint of helplessness in his voice. “Let’s continue discussing our alliance—”

"The third one."

"We will join forces to conquer the territories of other knights. After we conquer them, we will negotiate to divide the land area equally, with each knight taking half. The ownership of the mineral veins will be related to the land."

“Ore veins?” Ansba repeated. “Besides copper, what use are other metals to us?”

He was very perceptive. Samael stopped talking and quickly responded:

“I’m referring to copper mines,” he said.

“Copper is not lacking at all; there are copper trees everywhere in the Heart of the Bones.” Ansba relaxed his guard. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need mines or anything like that.”

"Furthermore, in the other Ghost Knight territories we conquered together, you can take 70% of the undead and corpses, and I'll only take 30%," Samael said.

"Huh?" Anshiba was taken aback.

“I’m not taking advantage of you,” he boomed. “I don’t want to. We’ll cooperate fairly, we’ll get the same share.”

Although this fellow is stubborn and inflexible, he is indeed a sincere and honest man, Samael thought.

“No, no, no… please let me finish, Ansba,” he added.

"We'll split the undead and corpses 30/70. But in return, I want all the plant and animal resources and demonic materials on this territory."

“Hmm…” Ansba pondered, “You want to give it to your living friend?”

Samael nodded.

“Sure,” Ansba replied, “though I don’t approve of you doing this—if everyone acted like you, neglecting their work and responsibilities, the world would collapse.”

“My job and mission is to build a living area that combines the power left behind by the gods… to build a better world.” Samael spread his hands. “I have always been doing my job diligently. You and I just have different jobs.”

Ansba was stunned. He stretched out his huge gauntlet, touched his helmet, pinched the antlers, and pondered the chirping birds on the helmet for a long time before finally giving up.

“Okay, sure,” he replied. “I accept.”

"The current alliance agreement consists of these three articles. If other situations arise later, we can discuss them further," Samael said. "Everything will be subject to further negotiations."

“Very well. We are allied,” Ansba said. “You are more sincere than Rahador and smarter than Dekgon.”

He extended his enormous, heavy bronze gauntlets.

Samael extended his bronze gauntlet and firmly grasped Ansba's hand.

Unlike Rahado, when you're with Ansba, you don't need to worry about being assassinated by random tendril blades while shaking hands—if Ansba wants to kill you, he'll tell you in advance and even set a specific time on the hour to come and crush you into pieces.

The two stood there stiffly the whole time, almost shoulder to shoulder, discussing the matter without even bothering to bring out a chair.

For these two people, a verbal agreement is far more powerful than an unbreakable vow, far superior to stabbing each other in the back for exploiting each other's weaknesses. Neither of them wants to use any extra means to ensure the other's compliance, nor does either of them have the slightest thought of breaking the agreement.

“At first, I thought you were a docile animal,” Ansba said. “Some kind of docile herbivore.”

"But now you're actually proposing an alliance with me, and even talking about conquering other knights. Maybe I don't know you well enough, or perhaps you're the kind of guy with a horse-like personality, a proud and strong herbivore."

“What horse?” Samael asked.

“That’s how horses are. Although they are herbivores, no predator dares to mess with a fully grown male wild horse,” Ansba replied. “If you don’t bother it, it’s fine. But if you anger it, invade its territory, try to harm its herd, and make it go berserk, it will crush your head.”

“What a strange metaphor, ally?” Samael shrugged.

“I often watch animal and plant documentaries; that’s my only hobby,” Ansba replied. “There are no animal and plant documentaries in this godforsaken place after I die, but I finally have the opportunity to leave my workstation chair and the cramped, dark room to get up close to nature in a place without a ceiling.”

“Well… uh, congratulations, my friend…” Samael wanted to congratulate Ansba, but congratulating someone on their death sounded strange. “Oh, by the way, my living friend is very good at cultivating plant and animal ecosystems. There are many creatures similar to these little taro balls. If you are interested, you may come and take a look from time to time.”

He added.

"Oh my!" The rotten root ball sat on the ground next to her, waving its branches.

Ansba's enormous antler frog beak twitched, and it hesitated visibly for a moment.

“No,” he replied. “Work is work. Once the extermination work is done, I’ll pursue my hobbies.”

He slowly turned around, beckoned to his massive antler-carved warhorse, and prepared to leave.

"When you are about to make any move, send that little scout to my grave to discuss the details with me."

“No problem,” Samael said. “I’ll send it over tonight, and we’ll discuss the details of the operation.”

Ansba gripped the massive antlers of his mount, struggling to mount the skeleton-forged steed, which was reinforced with Nether Bronze armor. The armored vehicle-like antlered warhorse swayed its skeletal head, struggling to support Ansba's weight.

The barrel-helmed knights followed their lord, and Ansba mounted his horse. The hooves of a dozen heavy warhorses thundered across the gray mossy plains.

He gazed at the misty lake of Rahadur, lost in thought.

iron ore.

Holy Iron...

(End of this chapter)