Chapter 148 - 50: [Night of the Heart of the Remains: Tomb and Midnight Diner]

Chapter 148: Chapter 50: [Night of the Heart of the Remains: Tomb and Midnight Diner]

"Ooya!" agreed the taro ball wearing a Bell-shaped Helmet, sitting atop the bucket’s lid.

"Yes. We need to build a few extra shacks in the camp. There are fur pelts in the carriage that we can use as covers to keep them warm." Old Duke nodded, carrying the buckets alongside two other Exiles. "As for food—we still have some provisions left over from our stay in the Oak Knight Territory. It should easily last us a week or two."

"And what happens after a week or two?" Samael asked.

Old Duke answered slowly. "Perhaps hunting, or perhaps excavating. Although the Undead’s pollution and destruction are quite severe, at the very worst, the Rot Root Balls are edible. It’s just that the Magical Beasts here are being used as labor; eating them would affect our progress, which would be counterproductive.

"If we truly run out of options, we might have to send someone to drive the carriage out of the Heart of the Remains to the Oak Knight Territory—or somewhere else—to purchase another batch of human food, and then transport it back so we can continue working."

"Then, how will we resolve the food situation for the Underground City?"

"Garden Masters like Gwyneth carry a vast amount of seeds and have rich experience in plant and animal husbandry. As long as the Rot Root Balls use their roots to stabilize the Insect Path network, it will take very little time to cultivate a rich Spiritual Garden ecosystem within it." Old Duke chuckled. "At most, we will labor for a month or two. By then, food will no longer be an issue."

Samael gave his helmet a slow nod, deep in thought. An Underground City inhabited by the living needed food. He remembered the previous scan results of the tall grass indicating that their seeds were edible. However, the yield was incredibly small; they required the care of symbiotic animals to produce a larger harvest. When the opportunity arose, he needed to search the tall grass for these "symbiotic animals."

"If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to say," he replied. "I’ve been dead for too long. Sometimes, I occasionally forget what the living need."

He vaguely felt that his words sounded a bit strange, but for a moment, he didn’t know how to elaborate or explain himself, so he ultimately said nothing more.

Back in the camp, he set down the bucket. He watched the Exiles, who had labored all day, rush forward to fetch water, observing the clear liquid moistening their dry, cracked lips. The Demon Race possessed a camel-like ability to endure hunger and thirst, but prolonged dehydration was still unpleasant.

"Food, water, a warm shelter... and morale-boosting entertainment. I seem to have missed a lot of things," Samael mused.

Water sources. Back in Luojie City, there was a purified river they used as a water source. Within the Empire, there were always irrigation canals dug by farmers crisscrossing the fields. The living needed water, and the Underground City needed water—yet he had completely forgotten to consider it.

He raised his sword and shield, striking them against each other.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Under Samael’s command, the driven Undead bundled the stalks of tall grass into sturdy pillars. Using ropes woven from shredded grass fibers, they erected the frameworks of the shacks and laid down a thick bed of leaves to insulate against the cold, muddy ground. Finally, they unloaded heavy fur pelts from the carriage, laying some on the floor and draping the rest over the frames to complete the small shelters.

The Exiles cheered and laughed, praising the Undead for their efficiency.

"Seriously, if you woke up freezing in the middle of the night, you should have just said something instead of trying to tough it out," he grumbled inwardly. "It’s not like I’m some heartless slave driver; I just can’t feel the cold."

...

The twin moons hung high in the sky as night began to fall.

A small fire flickered faintly in the dim, pale blue twilight—the glow of the Molten Stone furnace.

After a full day of labor, even the Exiles of the Demon Race—renowned for their boundless stamina—were completely exhausted. With no energy left for any sort of trivial entertainment, they quickly scarfed down their meals and retreated into their tents to rest.

The camp quickly emptied out. The Magical Beasts either joined them in rest or slinked back into the tall grass and the Rusted Copper Forest, leaving behind only the various grotesque, bizarrely shaped Undead.

As true night set in, the Undead deep within the Heart of the Remains grew exceptionally active. Occasionally, uncontrolled Undead would wander close to the large perimeter centered around Samael, drawn by the scent of the living Exiles. However, the moment they neared the camp, they were instantly suppressed by Samael’s High-Level Undead aura. Halted at the very edge of its range, they stood in a stupor before dropping to their knees like devout zealots worshipping him. Together, they faintly pieced together a massive ring of kneeling corpses around the entire camp.

Viewed from above beneath the twin moons, the ring looked like a massive eye made of rotting Undead. Samael sat exactly where the pupil would be, gazing coldly up at the copper moon in the sky.

A bonfire crackled in the center of the camp. Yaki Yevir sat beside it, taking the night watch. He surveyed the grotesque sight of the quietly kneeling Undead surrounding them, looking visibly unsettled.

"Isn’t this a bit..." Yaki muttered. "I’m not a coward by any means, but I’ve never seen a spectacle like this before."

"Let me take the watch, friend Yaki," Samael said, sitting down beside him. "I don’t require rest."

"I... don’t think that’s appropriate," Yaki said, shaking his head. "This is my responsibility."

Samael didn’t try to persuade him further; he simply beckoned with his hand.

A Military Drum Sword Shield Corpse Demon, clad in Nether Copper Knight Armor, trotted over from a distance. It dragged a fur pelt behind it and draped it over Yaki’s shoulders.

"Oh... thanks, Boss." Yaki offered a small smile. "Are you really an Undead?"