Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 67 [Allies and "Allies"]

Wow!
A series of screeching sounds of dragging bronze chains echoed across the gray mossy wilderness as haphazardly strung tripwires were violently pulled up by hands made of rotting flesh. The corpse demons, in pairs, had set up a chaotic array of tripwires.

tom!tom!tom!
The dull hammering sound echoed across the gray-green moss-covered plain.

Before Ansba stood a massive war drum, taller than a man, its thick, dark bronze forming a resonant, oppressive cavity. He raised his enormous fist, heavy enough to crush a skull, and pounded it against the drumhead again and again.

tom!tom!tom!
The bronze drumhead was struck heavily with each blow, producing a terrifying sound that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, like the heartbeat of the earth, causing ribs and chests to throb.

As the drumbeats began, the rumbling hooves slowed down.

The skeleton cavalry wore helmets made of dark bronze barrels, their heavy bodies constructed from fossilized, robust skeletons. A thick layer of rock had formed on their bones, speckled with rusty bronze. Rusty bronze tree roots in their joints held the skeletons tightly together, causing them to tremble grotesquely with the collision of the petrified bones, like hollow puppets strung together by ropes.

The skeleton-cast warhorses also wore full-coverage warhorse helmets similar to open barrel helmets. Rusty copper tree roots extended from the gaps in the helmets, forming dark blue antler-like structures that were as hard as copper and had sharp tips, like rows of moving spiked chevaux-de-frise.

The charging Skeleton Cavalry spurred their mounts, weaving through the serpentine ranks of rotting corpses in their path with sharp, swift curves, and darting past the rotting corpses that were pulling on tripwires.

Half of the bell-ringing ghouls raised their scythes, while the other half raised their massive decapitation swords, preparing to hook the skeleton warriors off their horses or slash them off with all their might.

However, the moment the skeleton cavalry swept past, they raised their massive lances and suddenly swung them, the huge lance heads smashing down, interrupting the bell-ringing corpse demons' movements. The heavy lances, like giant hammers, smashed them backward!
Combat Skill [Conquest]! Used to deal with groups of lightly armored targets on the battlefield. It uses a massive, heavy weapon to swing and sweep wildly, interrupting the actions of enemies in front of you and causing a powerful knockback effect.

The bell-ringed corpse demons were knocked away and struggled to get up, but the riders quickly turned their horses around, and the heavy fossil hooves of the skeleton warhorses were already trampling them down.

Amidst the crashing thuds, the rotting corpses splattered with blood and flesh, crushed into puddles of mud by the heavy hooves of the horses.

"Suddenly you've got tactics?" Rahado raised his gauntlet, making a gesture as if he were using binoculars, and gazed at the situation in the distance.

He stood near the border, atop a tall, rusty bronze tree, his elbows resting on a thick branch, half-leaning in the canopy, thoughtfully observing the distant situation.

Ansba's skeleton cavalry crushed the invading bell-ringed corpse demons, but still did not stop their charge, continuing to rush toward the border near the mist.

“Strange,” Rahado muttered.

He took a leisurely step and jumped down from the treetop, his light body landing with a clatter. Rahado patted his gauntlets, brushed the dust off his clothes, and reached out to fiddle with a string of small bells hanging from his shoulder armor.

Amidst the clanging and popping sounds, the scythe-wielding corpse demons that had been guarding the border line quickly scattered, slithering away like giant pythons, rushing back into the fog, passing through rows of bushes, and galloping towards the lake.

The cavalry showed no sign of stopping, continuing their pursuit of the scattered carrion demons as they charged toward rows of bushes.

The moment it passed through the first thicket, its hoof slipped and sank into the ditch hidden beneath the bushes! The heavy, cast-iron warhorse instantly lost its balance and, like an out-of-control armored vehicle, tumbled forward.

Rahador had dug a deep trench beforehand, and the bushes above it were just a disguise he had sent his undead minions to cover it up!
One of the skeleton-forged warhorses' legs was caught in the trench, the heavy, half-petrified body pressing down on it, instantly breaking the joint and leaving them unable to move. Several skeleton-forged warrior riders were also crushed under the heavy bodies of their warhorses, their knees broken, their arms crushed, or their bodies smashed, struggling in vain.

Logically, a mere fall shouldn't render a Boneforged warrior incapacitated. However, in the instant of the impact, from the flattened bushes, among the leaves and withered flowers, emerged the Netherbron spears that Rahador had planted beforehand. Like meticulously placed specimen nails, they pierced the fallen Boneforged warrior riders to the core.

After a round of traps was unleashed, only three or four well-preserved barrel-helmeted skeleton warriors struggled to their feet from the wreckage of their mounts, raised their heavy lances, and slowly advanced toward Rahador's territory.

However, the Skeleton Warriors were far too heavy, their bodies covered in heavy armor welded together from medium Ansba, almost a single piece of semi-copper stone welded from fossils, rusted copper tree roots, and ghost copper. The heavy armor and their bodies made them extremely slow to move.

Having lost the ability to move quickly on their mounts, they carried their lances and clumsily made their way towards the core area of ​​Lahadur at a snail's pace.

The fog grew thicker and thicker, making it difficult to see. The Skeleton Warriors slowly came to a stop, pausing for a moment.

The rotting demons of Rahador pressed their rotting bodies to the ground. Rahador had created biological structures called "vibration receptors" on their abdomens, which could detect any moving target in the mist through the faint vibrations transmitted through the ground, including heartbeats and breathing.

This is the key to his ghouls' ability to hunt in the mist. The ghouls share the vibrational perception with Rahador, creating an echo map that allows Rahador himself to move freely in the mist.

Corpse fiends are flesh-and-blood constructs, allowing them to be compatible with many biological structures. In contrast, undead warriors and other creatures lacking flesh and blood, while as hard as rock, cannot be compatible with most biological structural materials—a significant advantage of flesh and blood.

However, the undead warriors remained still. As undead without heartbeat or breath, remaining still in the thick fog was tantamount to complete invisibility.

Something's not right... Rahado touched his helmet. Was Ansba really this stupid before? That damn big guy may be stubborn, but he's not stupid at all.

Why did Ansba go to such lengths? Logically, wouldn't it have been enough to simply eliminate the enemy's probe units...?

The intruding unit sent to probe... He suddenly came to his senses.

Is Ansba testing his strength in reverse?! Is he sending cavalry to feign a counterattack, only to have them all wiped out deep into the trap area, just to test his own forces?
He commanded the serpentine corpse harvesters equipped with [vibration sensors], which crawled on the ground and moved slowly like real pythons, inching through the mist, groping their way, trying to slowly surround Ansba's barrel-helmeted skeleton warriors.

The next instant, the barrel-helmed skeleton warriors, who had been frozen in the mist, resumed their activity, pulling out bulging green balls from their mud-filled bags and hurling them haphazardly in all directions.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The putrid necromancy splattered! With a sizzling sound, it corroded and destroyed the bushes. The slight explosion spread the acid evenly, instantly corroding the bushes completely and revealing the second trench below, and the rotting corpse harvesters in the bushes, holding great bronze scythes, ready to hook the invaders into the trench and dismember them.

Crack! Crack! The Skeleton Warriors didn't stop for a moment, frantically hurling sizzling necromancy balls. The acid splashed into the second trench, quickly corroding and destroying the Corpse Reapers. Soon, only a few chainmail armors and scythes covered in filth remained in the trench.

Rahado was startled and took off running. With a series of clanging sounds, he sprinted to the edge of his lake, pushed open a trapdoor in the ground with a diving motion, and dived into a small room made of molten stone.

The walls of the small room were made entirely of hard, thick plates of Nether Bronze. Thick chains were haphazardly fastened throughout the room, using Nether Bronze hooks and locks to firmly bind a large Nether Bronze box. Rahado activated the [Nether Bronze Printer], hastily melting away the chains securing the box, and hurriedly pried open the lid.

Inside the lid was another small box, bound together by layers of chains.

Rahadu hurriedly repeated the unpacking process twice more, finally opening the third box of necromancer.

The moment the box was opened, a small, tanned undead with a helmet on its head spread its bronze limbs and lunged at Rahador. Rahador then reached out with his gauntlet, grabbed it in the palm of his hand, and held it firmly in his hand.

"You provided Ansba with item assistance?" Rahado glared fiercely at the helmeted little necromancer, gripping the parasitic little necromancer's neck. "You two-faced villain—we were the ones who made an alliance to deal with that Samael who built the system!"

Amidst the signal delay caused by the vast distance, the parasitic little necromancer wearing the bronze helmet stared blankly for a few seconds, then grinned, revealing a smile on its eyeless, rotten black, fang-filled mouth.

"Hey, our covenant doesn't say I can't trade items and materials with other knights—" the little necromancer chuckled mischievously, "It's my business for Xinzro to exchange items for supplies with me, and the covenant doesn't say I can't form alliances with other knights..."

"Sinziro?" Rahado pinched the little undead. "So, there's something about Sinziro?"

"Uh...what?" The little necromancer was stunned for a moment. "Didn't you just say Xinziro?"

"I'm talking about Ansba!" Rahado roared. "Sinzro doesn't even border my territory, why should I care—alright! Now I know you've been having shady dealings with both Ansba and Sinzro, you treacherous bastard!"

He squeezed hard with his bronze gauntlets, and the helmeted undead, like a stress-relieving toy, creaked as its neck caved in and its head bulged out. The leathery skin, characteristic of tanned corpses, swelled up under the pressure and made a squeaking sound.

“You just wait, at least Sokofa won’t betray me—after Sokofa and I defeat big guy Ansba, dismantle madman Dekgon, and then take over weirdo Samael’s territory,”

“Thump…thump-ha (wait a minute)…” The helmeted, tanned undead struggled within Rahador’s gauntlets. “No Asba (no Asba)!” Rahador’s thin gauntlets loosened slightly. His gauntlets were thin yet powerful; under the immense force of the grip, they had become firmly embedded in the parasitic undead’s body. After the gauntlets loosened, five clearly visible finger marks were left on the undead’s tanned, leathery skin.

“What?” Rahado asked.

“No Ansba! I’ve never provided Ansba with any items!” the helmeted parasitic necromancer shouted. “My territory and Ansba’s territory don’t even border each other; your territory and Samael’s territory are in between…”

"So, you made a deal with Samael, and Samael then transferred the acid bomb to Ansba?" Rahado asked.

"I didn't give Samael any items either—I allied with you to deal with Samael! Are you out of your mind?" the helmeted parasitic necromancer roared. "He caused me to lose a lot of supplies and necromancers, including a swamp behemoth—oh, wait a minute..."

"What?" Rahado asked.

"The necromancer I sent to his border last time, it seems, wasn't destroyed in time after being killed—his taro monster secretly took the detonator." The helmeted parasitic necromancer stared blankly, "Could he have gotten his hands on that equipment and figured out some of my item crafting methods..."

"Useless idiot!" Rahado grabbed the little undead and shoved it back into the small bronze box, then bound it tightly with layers upon layers of bronze chains, securing the multi-layered bronze box firmly in the center of the room. "We'll talk about your business with Xinziro later."

"Wait a minute, you accuse me of secretly allying with Sinziro, but aren't you also involved with Sokofa?" Prange's protest came from inside the box, sounding muffled through the three layers of Nether Bronze seal.

"I call this strategic maneuvering and recruiting talent!" Rahado gave the bronze box the middle finger with disdain. "I'm going to be the King of the Dead. This is called kingly strategy, this is called a strategic vision, do you understand? Can you, a pathetic mud-playing freak with no ambition, compare to me?"

"Idiots! What king or not, Xinziluo even said he wanted to become a god!" Pulange scoffed. "You two are both idiots!"

“Shut up! A guy like you who’s always messing around with his head will never understand my grand ambitions!” Rahado kicked the bronze box. “But Sinziro is definitely not right in the head… I agree with that.”

He clung to the edge of the molten stone trapdoor at the exit, peering out from the small underground room locked to the allied communications unit at the barrel-helmed knights still carelessly throwing acid bombs in the distance.

The fog blocked their path. They didn't advance further, but they didn't stop their probing attacks either. Acid bombs were being hurled haphazardly through the fog.

"Hey, big guy!" a chainmail-armored ghoul shouted through the mist. "You've allied with Samael, haven't you?"

The barrel-helmeted warriors remained silent, only hurling another round of acid bombs in the direction of the sound.

“Oh, it seems so.” Rahado’s mocking voice echoed in the mist. “After all, you never lie—you don’t want to lie, but you won’t answer my questions, so you just stay silent.”

The barrel-helmed skeleton warriors remained silent. Having missed their acid bombs, they were now leaning over other fallen barrel-helmed skeleton warriors, extending their sharp lances to cut small slits in their bomb pouches.

The cushioning mud inside the bag slowly leaked out.

"Did Samael send you to test my forces?" Rahado's voice drifted through the mist, accompanied by a chaotic and ethereal ringing of bells.

The skeleton warriors of Ansba remained silent.

Rahado snorted.

"You've allied with Prange, haven't you?" Samael's voice rang out from beneath the bell-shaped helmets of a dozen sword-and-shield corpse knights on the other side of the border.

“How could I ally with a despicable man like Prange, Samael, my good friend?” Rahado’s laughter echoed in the mist. “But you, you’ve been secretly plotting something with Prange behind this big, stupid fool’s back, haven’t you?”

“You really know how to sow discord,” Samael said. “That’s definitely your style.”

Rahado burst into laughter.

"Wasn't it you who started this trouble? You brought a fake acid bomb to test me and Prange?" he mocked.

“So you’re admitting that you’re allied with Prang,” Samael said.

“Uh… a slip of the tongue, just a slip of the tongue.” Rahado chuckled dryly. “I don’t want to get involved with a lunatic like Prange.”

“I will tell this to Prang,” Samael said. “There are differences between allies. Some allies can form an alliance stronger than steel with just a verbal agreement, while others can have their loyalty worn away by a few words, even if they have their oaths engraved on bronze.”

"Are they here to test my strength?" Rahado snorted. "Then let them see what's going on in the fog."

A flash of cold light appeared somewhere in the fog, and dozens of fleshy tendrils suddenly burst forth, each tendril end inlaid with a long blade of dark bronze, wildly waving in the fog.

After a series of clanging sounds, the skeleton warriors that Ansba had used to test the strength of his troops were dragged into the mist. Moments later, the Nether Bronze Blade severed the rusted copper tree roots that connected their joints, and the fragments of their skeletons scattered on the ground like puppets with broken strings.

"Thank you for bringing me the acid bombs. It just so happens that Prange refused to share these things with me for free..." Several serpentine shadows dragged their tentacles as they slowly approached the first trench, where several fallen skeleton warriors still had acid bomb bags on their bodies.

The ground was sticky, as if it was flowing with slippery mud.

The serpentine corpse demons happily picked up the leather bags that were still leaking mud, and with a whoosh, slung the bags over their shoulders.

Crack! Crack! Crack! A series of rapid explosions rang out as the acid bombs, no longer cushioned by the mud, collided with each other, instantly triggering a chain reaction of explosions! Waves of acid burst open, tearing open the bag and covering the serpentine corpse demons.

Amidst the hissing sound of the corrosive acid, Rahado remained silent for a moment.

“You’re welcome,” said Samael’s bell-helmeted swordsman and shieldman.

“What do you want?” Rahado asked amidst the jingling of bells. “We don’t have much of a conflict, do we? It was Prange who attacked you first, not me. I was just joining in the fun… I just like to join in the fun, isn’t that human nature?”

Samael did not answer.

“Hey, I can sell you Prange. Do you want it?” said Rahador. “It’s Prange, Samael, little Samael, my good brother, who has offended you…”

"How about we form an alliance? Let's sweep through the Heartless Plains together? Ignore that big guy, he's stupid, stubborn, square-headed, and inflexible. He's hardly a qualified ally..."

Amidst the rumbling footsteps, Ansba slowly stood beside Samael, and the two exchanged a glance.

“His tactics are highly dependent on the environment,” Samael said, completely ignoring Rahador’s words. “The fog spoiled him to the point that he developed a combat style that was almost entirely dependent on the fog—traps, quiet and stealthy infiltration, using sound to lure and disrupt, quick killing and dismemberment, making the enemy quickly incapacitated—all of these are combat modes that rely entirely on the fog.”

“Rahador is very powerful in his territory,” Ansba said, “but he’s not much of a threat once he leaves the fog.”

“If only we had a chance to clear the fog off his territory—” Samael looked up at the sky, “Isn’t it raining here?”

“The climate in Haixin is quite unique; there’s not much rain, and it’s usually foggy and frosty,” Ansba said. “And now that it’s winter, there’s very little rain.”

“I’ll try to see if I can create some rain… or snow,” Samael said in a low voice, “to clear away the fog.”

“Without the cover of the fog, Rahador will be much easier to deal with.”

(End of this chapter)