Chapter 7 Spirit Communicator

The stone door led downward to a deep and narrow path.

With Heine's strong sense of direction and his familiarity with the architecture of Bone Burial Ground, he soon realized that they had circled around the foundation of the church and arrived at the door of the storeroom leading into the academy.

Without stepping inside, the smell of blood wafted out.

Heine took out the key to open the door, and beyond it, a scene akin to purgatory unfolded.

Human limbs and mutilated corpses were piled up into two small hills, one of flesh and the other of bones.

Filthy clothes, hair, and bloodstains on the ground formed a thick, brownish-black paste; flies buzzed in a frenzy, and rats scurried about.

"Fuck..."

Teacher Xia was the first to exclaim in shock.

"Is it that exciting? Lucky I'm a skeleton, otherwise I guess I'd vomit..."

"It's a Flesh Reshaping ceremony," explained Zhuo Yang. "By offering thrice the amount of bones and thrice the flesh for the Skin Flayed Twin, one can break free from their old self and undergo transformation. It's the prerequisite for becoming a Lich."

"You're too professional, Brother Yang. Do you all at Crimson Dawn have to memorize this too?"

"No, I just realized there was something wrong with the ceremony. The wet weight of a human's bones only makes up 5-10% of the body, but the ratio of bone to flesh in this ceremony is 1:1. If the sacrifice is based on equivalent exchange, following the conservation of mass, then there's clearly too much bone being used here, wouldn't the person become Master Baigu after the reshaping is finished?"

"Amazing, Brother Yang, a true savant at egg incubation!"

"Egg incubation my ass, this is just middle school biology level, alright..."

Heine wasn't just standing around listening; he activated Eyes of the Undead to look for the faintly glowing bloody chopping block amidst the deathly mist.

The chopping block was wicked, about ten centimeters thick, covered with chop marks, yet the fresh blood rolled off it like dew on a lotus leaf, not sticking to it at all.

Around the edges of the chopping block was a studded iron rim, with a groove in the center and a handle at the back, just perfect for making into a shield handle.

Although skeletons don't breathe, Heine could still sense Zhuo Yang holding his "breath" behind him.

He was very nervous.

Heine empathized deeply.

He had felt the same trepidation standing before Illidan's corpse.

He pulled out the chopping block, feigned surprise as he examined it, then abruptly looked at Zhuo Yang's empty right hand.

Pretended to think...

Had a sudden revelation...

Made a decision!

"Here, try this one."

"Awesome!"

Zhuo Yang excitedly took the chopping block.

The chopping block that took both of Heine's hands to turn was light as a cushion in his grasp.

Without letting him look forward with eager anticipation, Heine also picked up the heavy Bone-Chopping Knife.

"Almost forgot this one, this is Hunter's treasure; take it."

Zhuo Yang excitedly dropped the sword and took the knife.

The knife was about forty centimeters long, with the blade making up two-thirds of that length, narrow and dark, with a faint blood glow surrounding it.

"I am complete!"

If he weren't afraid of frightening Heine, he would've performed a demonstration of the knife and shield uniting, GP defense!

"Let's go."

Heine picked up the longsword and beckoned the two of them to leave; before they left, he threw a burning bottle inside.

If nothing unexpected happened, this was a ritual targeting Principal Gale, and the storeroom's wood and grease should be enough to burn everything.

...

Half an hour later, Heine and the two skeletons completed a rough search, with little to no findings.

The academy was still far from becoming a dungeon, and other than the storeroom's gruesome scene, everywhere else was no different from normal days.

But for the other two, it was a trip down memory lane, filled with surprises at every turn.

"...This should have been a trap."

"...No mobs spawned in this lab."

"...There, there, a crowning moment for Brother Yang, the Washroom War God!"

"...I keep worrying a Wandering Soul will spawn in the corridor."

Every word from the two was a fond remembrance from the game, but in Heine's mind, they were all part of a sinister scene.

The last stop was the principal's office.

The door was unlocked, and everything was eerily calm.

While the two were whispering about whether the boss needed to be pulled out for the fight, Heine pushed the door open without hesitation.

A monster with a back covered in stark white bone spikes, like a porcupine, was hunched over a desk frantically writing.

Through Eyes of the Undead, Heine saw the deathly energies merging into its body like rivers into the sea.

This was an irreversible undead aberration. He had still arrived a step too late...

Hearing the noise, it raised its head to reveal a horrifying face with protruding bones, with Principal Gale's face faintly recognizable.

Heine almost released the bindings to let the two charge ahead, but Gale's clear eyes stopped him in his tracks.

This wasn't the first time Heine had seen this old man; he remembered those eyes.

Gale squinted for a long time before recognizing the person in front of him.

"Heine? I really didn't expect it to be you."

"I didn't expect you to become like this either."

"Terrifying, isn't it?"

Gale put down his pen and pulled a smile uglier than crying.

"The ritual was disrupted, was it you? Where is Hunter?"

"Dead."

Gale was first astonished, then sighed, "I misjudged, I thought your talent was all in making money. These are your Skeletons... hmm?"

Confronted with the silvery ghostly fire in the Skeletons' eye sockets, his gaze solidified.

Suddenly, he stood up, the bone spurs on his back scraping against the ground with a rasping sound.

Heine immediately released part of the bindings and took a step back, hiding behind the undead.

"I harbor no ill intent."

Gale waved his hand and stretched out his right one.

"You should have this as well, right?"

Heine's pupils dilated at the sight of a mark on the man's wrist identical to his own.

"This is..."

"I guess Hunter planted a soul-repelling curse on you too; everything about it is written in the testament, you can read it later. For now, let's talk about your Skeletons—while I'm still coherent."

The old man's gaze was earnest, and after a slight hesitation, Heine agreed.

He briefly described what he had seen of the silver strands and the summoning process, as well as their performance on the journey thus far.

"...After the battle with Hunter ended, I had a speculation: my Skeletons seemed to retain a part of their combat consciousness, especially when I slightly loosened the bindings; their performance was simply more outstanding than that of experienced mercenaries."

"Is that so..."

Gale appeared contemplative.

At that moment, the two of them had already caused an uproar.

Teacher Xia: "Damn, we've been discovered after all!"

"To be fair, we should have been noticed long ago; a Necromancer's initial undead servants struggle to kill a chicken... we're clearly of a higher caliber."

"Looks like we won't turn to bone dust, what do you think he's talking about with the boss?"

"Asking if we're SSR tier and then the two sick buddies will chat about curses, it's actually good for us, no need to act too dumb later."

"That's true."

Heine was very pleased with their reaction; he had intended to gradually show that he realized and accepted the fact "undead have self-awareness," and Gale provided him with a fine opportunity to do so.

The headmaster then spoke up.

"The Netherworld has not only Wandering Souls but also a category of solid, resilient beings known as 'Fine Souls,' which retain a part of their living memories and possess intelligence almost akin to that of humans.

"Necromancers capable of summoning Fine Souls often can't see Wandering Souls and are called 'Spirit Communicators'; the first Gittiler himself was a Spirit Communicator, but the lineage has long been lost.

"Your two Skeletons are clearly Fine Souls, and you are a Spirit Communicator. The soul-repelling curse has locked onto your location, and you may continuously attract troubles."

Heine asked, "Can Fine Souls have their own consciousness? Can they betray the Spirit Communicator?"

Gale shook his head, "I cannot answer that."

"What impact does the curse have on me?"

"For you, there's no impact at all."

Heine breathed a sigh of relief.

No impact was good news; as for man-made troubles, he'd meet force with force and cover water with earth—he wasn't worried.

Suddenly, Gale's body hunched, shaking violently, and he began emitting guttural roars of chaos.

Zhuo Yang stepped forward, positioning Heine behind him, with the cutting board in hand, eager to act.

Teacher Xia also silently moved to Gale's side, the dagger whirling in her fingertips.

"Hold on, don't rush!"

Heine hastily called the two to a halt.

After a dozen seconds or so, Gale slightly recovered, his eyes now bearing a bloodthirsty red glow.

"I can't hold on much longer..."

He snatched up the neatly arranged paper bag on the table and threw it to Heine.

"Everything I have to say is in here, hand them over to Old Sewen.

"Then, have your Skeletons kill me."

Heine saluted solemnly.

Without hesitation, he issued a decisive order:

"Do it!"