As a "resurrected person", he hated this place.

It was a lonely place for him, and at this fixed time of the day, he was always accustomed to crawling out of those cold coffins and wandering the streets aimlessly—

As he walked with his footsteps, the scene of the street continued to change in front of him, and only in this way could he slightly dispel a trace of loneliness in his heart.

His steps were slow, and compared to the pale and dull bones of ordinary skeletons, his whole body seemed to be carved from the finest marble, glowing with a silvery-white gloss, and the joints of his thigh bones moved back and forth in the bone disc of the hip bone, and there seemed to be a medium in between, without any sound of rubbing against each other—

Turning his head, deep in the eye sockets of the black hole, there is a pair of jumping red soul fires, which is also the difference between the "resurrected" and ordinary summons, the "resurrected" has an independent thinking consciousness, and his gaze stopped somewhere.

On both sides of the street are large swaths of gray stone buildings, which are quite exquisite, whether it is the walls, the roofs, or the patterns used for decoration, they are like the ancient court depicted in the picture scroll.

These buildings have a strong Arandian style, and even a very ordinary small house is like the most exquisite work of art.

In this art-filled neighborhood, among the buildings of the community, there are several tall towers-

If you look closely, you can see that these towers are made of countless bones that belong to some of the greatest figures, and at the top of these towers, silver balls float in the air, casting light like moonlight, and faint shadows extending from the soles of their feet.

The skeleton walked towards a building, and in front of the building was a large group of figures crushed by Black - it is not accurate to say that they were humans, as these figures included skeletons, zombies, ghouls, vampires, lichs, and other races.

He stepped forward, and in the midst of the crowd, he accidentally came across a ghoul dressed in gray tattes, the ghoul raised his head lower, and his white eyes glanced at him, revealing rows of sharp, grooved teeth, and a cursed sound coming from his wide mouth:

"Bastard, don't you have long eyes?"

"I'm sorry."

The skeleton said lightly, saying that it was an apology, but his tone was flat and almost indifferent, and the ghoul was immediately extremely dissatisfied, and the scolding in his mouth became louder:

"You brainless skeleton, a defective product made of countless broken bones, and I don't know what your master thinks, you let such a thing run out alone......"

"Hey, Neil, don't say any more."

The ghoul became more and more energetic, and one of his companions, a zombie with half an arm missing, suddenly reminded him that "Neil" was the name of the ghoul, and the zombie saw the skeleton in a black cloak and found that he was one size bigger than his kind.

In the country of the dead, Dill, the size of the body may not say much, but this kind of oversized skeleton is obviously not an ordinary thing-

It's a pity that the skeleton doesn't have eyebrows, otherwise you can see that his brow is frowning.

The soles of the feet are raised.

The contrast between Mr. Skeleton and the ghoul is like that of an adult man and a dog - the bare white soles of his feet step on the ghoul's crooked back, and his face and body make intimate contact with the ground in an instant.

The skeleton didn't look at the ghoul anymore, and stepped directly on it—the weight of the body made the curved back bow creak, and the ghoul fell silent and stopped talking.

Crackle crackle.

A pile of red, white and black bolognese was left on the ground.

Mr. Bones finally squeezed into the innermost layer, and no one commented on what had just happened, and what they were concerned about at the moment was obviously much more important than the life or death of a ghoul.

Recruitment notice.

This was released by Lord Angus Rosenthal, one of the twelve members of the White Bone Council, "Rebel of Fate", -

War Mission Recruitment: Join a war of the dead against humanity, minimum requirements, and high-level strength...... Knowledge of Elantic is preferred, and those with special abilities are preferred, and the treatment is five to one hundred necromantic essences per week, depending on the level of strength......

Necromantic Essence!

The dead people gathered in front of this building are paying attention to this piece of content-

The lifespan of the dead is extremely long, but compared to humans, their strength increases slowly, and the necromantic essence can allow them to strengthen themselves quickly, in the country of the dead, Dir, which is a very valuable hard currency unit.

Mr. Skeleton quickly finished reading the signs and made his way to the building's tall, round-arched doorway.

Although the onlookers were numerous, most of them were self-aware enough that in the face of the "rebel of fate", Lord Angus Rosenthal, this bad behavior would undoubtedly lead to serious and unbearable consequences.

Maybe they'll be cracked into a ball of bone or pup, like the outrageous ghoul who just started - pair after pair of eyes looking at Mr. Skeleton, some leaving, others following.

"Sask, awakened to the lower level, able to write and speak the Elantite language......"

Mr. Skeleton walked into the building, and was soon greeted by a receptionist in a black robe, a Miss Vampire whose age it was hard to tell - she had somehow pulled out a piece of paper with a table on it, and carefully filled it out line by line as Mr. Skeleton Sask.

After a while.

The Miss Vampire received two more people, a zombie, and a lich.

On the top floor of this building, there is a spacious room.

The room was hundreds of square meters, but there was very little furniture, a desk, two bookcases, a few historic lacquered wooden chairs, and behind the desk, a medium-sized figure sat -

The so-called medium stature is relative to a human, and his stature is not the slightest difference from that of a normal human.

Angus Rosenthal.

He wore a white gown in the style of the Elantra court centuries ago, and a beautiful golden wig on his bare, fleshless skull, which was meticulously combed and neatly attached to the back of his head—

On top of this desk, a paper document sits along.

His fingerbones tapped rhythmically on the table, and he heard footsteps in the hallway outside.

……

The night passed peacefully.

Nsada in the east of Nogo.

The lord of the place, Count Locke Lambert, had already gotten up and dressed under the service of his maids, and after breakfast, he began to review the papers in his office—