It is the land of the dead, the most silent heart of darkness, the land of emptiness and endless greed. It always wants to inhale all life in the multiverse, both good and evil, into its stomach. And, even if it does, it still wants more.

The Dark Realm (Negative Energy Plane), inside one of the Magical Society's frontier towers.

The tower is called 'Phalanx 13', and as the name suggests, it is one of the outermost defenses of the Magical Guild in the Dark Realm.

There are many other defensive facilities similar to the 'Sycalange 13' watchtower, and their greatest function is to let the central 'Death Skull' know a certain situation of the intruder when they are destroyed.

'Angus' was an ordinary skeleton guard in the watchtower, holding a pointed rib in his hand and carefully wiping it with a piece of rotten leather.

Angus finished wiping his ribs and held it up in front of him. Orange soul fire churned in his eyes, and he whispered to the rib, "Sila, you're beautiful today!"

After saying that, Angus put the rib into his chest, then adjusted it left and right, and then broke the other one, "Corosa, it's your turn......

After wiping all the ribs in his chest, Angus nodded with satisfaction, put on his shiny steel armor, put on his shield, and fastened his scabbard, and walked out of his room.

In the hall on the bottom floor of the watchtower, the poison-clawed ghoul Bowen, the skeleton archer Bud, and the freezing zombie Darren are still playing cards quietly. In Angus's memory, they have been playing this game for nearly thirty years. This isn't their longest record, though.

It's a shame that the longest game of these guys lasted ninety-eight years, and it was almost a hundred years.

What was the last time they stopped playing cards? Oh, it's the very powerful Winter Corpse Demon, leading more than a dozen corpse demon vassals and a large group of ordinary skeletons, and wants to pay attention to the 'Sycamore Phalanx 13'.

It was a rather tragic battle, and the Winter Necrosh was a little light in the final stages of the battle, and was accurately shot into the eye socket by Bud with a special arrow against the undead kind, causing a great loss of soul fire in the skull. If this were not the case, then all the guards in their watchtower would probably have to be killed by that powerful enemy covered in a thick ice shell.

But what if they were all wiped out, those who managed to invade would eventually be killed by their fellow comrades.

In Angus's limited memory, the watchtower, where he had lived for more than a thousand years, had been captured seven times by the enemy, completely razed once, and he himself had been resurrected more than twenty times because of the battles he had fought again.

This is actually not a high number of times, because the poison-clawed ghoul Bowen always likes to rush to the front in battle, and he does not like to wear heavy armor, and he does not have Darren's corrupt and strong physique, so Bowen has been resurrected more than three hundred times.

But it's still nothing. As long as the central 'Skull of Death' exists, then they, the undead guards, will never truly die.

Unlike the undead in the boundless darkness outside, the soul fire of these guards will not weaken even a little bit after it is extinguished, nor will they be resurrected in place, but will return to the vast interior of the 'Skull of Death', where they will reawaken and obtain new bodies according to the messages left by the 'Primordial Seal'.

It is precisely because of this that these undead souls can basically maintain their original consciousness in the resurrection again and again.

Actually, Angus would have liked to be a ghoul. At least ghouls can taste the food, even if it's just a few rotting corpses.

For more than a thousand years, Angus had been a skeleton in armor, and he was a little tired of it.

Unfortunately, Angus did not have the right to choose. The 'primordial sigil' he left inside the Skull of Death was a skeleton guard with a shield and sword, so he couldn't be any other kind of undead.

Although it is not impossible to change the "role" to do it, the possibility is very small. The necromancer adults who are "busy" in the central area don't care what a small skeleton guard can think.

Angus knew that in this field called "Eternal Body", there were countless "characters" like him, and as many as they wanted, they would be created. Angus didn't dare to touch the mage's moldy head because he didn't have any meaningless little wishes.

At this time, Bowen used his green claws to twist an obsidian-carved stone plaque in his palm, but he did not move for a long time. The ghoul's ugly face furrowed as if he was struggling with whether or not to play the card.

Angus was a little envious of this, his own bony face could not make any expression. He can only use his mandible to open and close to make a crisp tapping sound, which is his favorite activity when he is bored on duty.

The percussion will also be accompanied by a song from memory, which will sound rhythmically. That ballad was the only fragment of his memory that remained when he was alive, and as for the other impressions of his life, he had long forgotten them, and he himself did not care about that past.

Alas, if one day he could be a ghoul, how beautiful life would be! The fire of the soul in Angus's eyes churned faintly.

He stood at the table and waited for most of the day, but the card between Bowen's claws still hadn't been played. Angus estimated that the enviable ghoul would most likely struggle for days, or even weeks, or a month, because of the card. Bowen's character is like that.

If there is any benefit to being an undead, then "almost infinite time" is certainly the greatest of the benefits, so they can squander it with impunity.

It's just that such benefits don't really belong to them, because undead guards like Angus have no right to decide whether they should fall into eternal sleep or not.

"Yes, Angoth. Darren looked up, exhaled a puff of mist, and said to him vaguely, "Lady Sandora is looking for you." ”

"you fat man!" the skull guard's soul fire boiled, and Bud, the skeleton archer next to him, echoed him, expressing his dissatisfaction with this dead fat man who was haunted by freezing fog and was really dead.

Darren let out a low chuckle, unconcerned about Angus's swearing.

The undead can communicate with each other through soul fire, but Darren always likes to use his corrupt voice to speak vague lingua franca. He's bragging about the fact that he still has a voice, and this guy has always been like that for thousands of years.

"When did Lady Sandora find me?" asked Angus casually. Since the lady didn't go directly into the room to look for her, it shouldn't be a hurry.

"Three days ago. Darren replied. Then the frozen zombie let out a loud fart, the ice-blue mist almost indistinguishable from the exhalation from his mouth.

Angus's soul fire flickered, indicating that he already knew. He shoved the card back between Bowen's paws, drew another one, and threw it on the table.

Then he turned and climbed the spiraling staircase to the top floor of the watchtower.

......