"Dealt with?"
Mo Fan blinked blankly. "Wait—you met that Ancient King already?"
Zhou Haoyu nodded.
"What did he look like?"
"Devastatingly handsome. Outrageously handsome," Zhou replied seriously.
"Yeah right, save it for ghost stories."
Mo Fan rolled his eyes hard — no way he was buying that.
Just then, a towering, rough-bearded man appeared behind them, it was Zhan Kong, the Chief Instructor Zhou had met once before.
Zhan Kong looked confused, staring at them as if they were mad. Who still had the mood to stand around chatting inside the Ancient King's tomb?
"Chief Instructor?!" Mo Fan and Zhang Xiaohou blurted in shock. — When had he appeared?!
"Where is the Ancient King?" Zhan Kong turned to Zhou Haoyu and demanded.
"I convinced him to withdraw his army." Zhou replied calmly.
Zhan Kong frowned and glanced toward the empty Blood Throne — indeed, there was no one there. …Had the Ancient King really left?
"What did you say to him?" Zhan Kong pressed.
"Do I owe you every detail? Or do you think you're qualified to interrogate me?" Zhou Haoyu asked mildly.
Zhan Kong was caught completely off guard — realizing suddenly… he wasn't in a position to question this young man.
Zhou Haoyu was not only a High-Tier mage but Pang Lai's personal disciple. Technically speaking, they were of equal standing — certainly not someone you could order around.
Not wasting time, Zhou pointed toward the exit. "Everything's handled. Let's leave."
Zhan Kong could only watch with suspicion. Did the Ancient King make some kind of deal with him? Perhaps… even choose him as an heir? It wasn't impossible.
Back in the city, cheers and crying suddenly erupted across the walls as dawn finally broke.
"They've gone! All gone — not a single undead left!!"
"We're alive… We survived!!"
Light still struggled through the clouds… rain still fell… but nothing mattered — because the undead army had withdrawn. The Ancient Capital was saved!
On the walls, hundreds of exhausted mages slumped to their knees, having squeezed every last drop of mana for this nightmare. They had been prepared to die there — until, suddenly, the undead simply retreated, without warning.
"I just knew that kid could do it." Zhu Meng cracked a rare smile.
Han Ji's face relaxed for the first time in days. "It was all thanks to Zhou Haoyu's proposal. Without the civilian evacuation… I don't dare imagine how many would have perished."
With Zhou's intervention, casualties in the Ancient Capital were shockingly low — mostly mage losses from combat. Ordinary citizens had been preserved.
Had the evacuation not happened… the body count would have been well over a million.
It was nothing short of a great victory.
Two days later.
Though the undead crisis had passed, the outer city lay in ruin and required massive rebuilding — work that would take months.
Meanwhile Zhou Haoyu stayed in the capital for a few days… quietly cultivating his Fire Element and forging magical gear.
"Just a little more flame… it's almost done."
Hearing her master's command, the little Flame Empress puffed out her cheeks and spat a precise blast of flame beneath a magic-gear embryo. Under Zhou Haoyu's manipulation, a standard-type demon-slaying weapon slowly took shape.
Once it was finished, Zhou Haoyu stored it inside the Candle Dragon bracelet and tossed the Flame Empress a fragment of a Spirit seed.
The moment she saw it, Little Flame Empress hugged it with excitement like a hamster clutching snacks — happily nibbling away.
Each seed fragment cost hundreds of thousands — far beyond what normal mages could afford. But for Zhou Haoyu, it was nothing. The profit from forging even a single weapon was enough to buy half a Spirit seed.
"My king, you certainly enjoy yourself… If you lack magic gear, why not allow me to raid a few clan vaults for you?"
A soft voice sounded behind him. A pale shadow appeared silently and a strange, intoxicating fragrance wafted through the air.
Zhou Haoyu casually glanced back. There she was — graceful, peerless, eyes pure black with a hint of charm and danger — the Queen of the Netherworld.
"I said before — without my permission, you are not allowed to come looking for me." Zhou Haoyu's voice grew colder.
"But this servant only wished to admire her king a little more~." The Queen of the Netherworld pouted playfully.
Zhou Haoyu didn't react to her charms. Instead, he asked flatly: "How are they settled?"
By they, he naturally meant the Eight Undead Monarchs. Queen of the Netherworld, Red Skeleton Ruler, and Phantom Ruler personally. As for Mountain Zombie and Nether Bone Dragon — they spoke for themselves.
"They've suppressed their subordinates for now… but this can't last forever, my king. Sooner or later those undead instincts will burst out again."
Zhou Haoyu's pupils glinted: he understood undead well enough — mindless beasts driven only by killing desire. Even undead monarchs could only suppress that urge temporarily.
Once it built up…it would become a disaster.
"Tell them to behave a while longer. Soon… I will give them a real battlefield."
He already had his own plan — the best way to stop war is by waging one. Since he would eventually clash with Khufu, he might as well strike first.
But he still needed to accumulate more strength first — otherwise, he'd be walking into his own death sentence.
"My king, it grows late… would you like this servant to warm your bed?"
The Queen leaned gently against his back. She had no true body — yet Zhou Haoyu could nonetheless feel a strange softness pressing against him.
It was… an odd, unsettling sensation.
"No need. I plan to enter meditation again." Zhou Haoyu answered coolly.
She was a yin spirit. If she siphoned even a little yang energy, he'd be exhausted for days. Even if she was alluring, Zhou Haoyu still had principles.
The Queen seemed to read his mind, hurriedly promising:
"Your servant won't absorb any yang energy~"
Zhou Haoyu raised an eyebrow — clearly still skeptical. A female ghost who doesn't suck yang energy? Who are you trying to fool?
Without trying to explain, the Queen simply drifted behind him and began massaging his shoulders with phantom-soft hands.
Hiss—
It actually felt… damn good.
.....
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