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Chapter 306: Corpse King, Aragorn
The rain has gotten heavier.

Aragorn stood in the shadows, letting the rain crash against his armour, and the sword of Kings Andariel was fastened in his hand by rusty chains.

Wet hair fell on both sides of his head, his eyes were slightly open, and his dead gaze fell on Zhuang Boshi.

He had wings on his back, but they were not the mad dragon wings like Zheng Zha's, nor were they the devil wings like the clone of Zheng Zha.

Instead, it was a pair of bones stacked layer by layer on the back and spread out like a wing of bones, which seemed to be the wings of a giant eagle.

It is not difficult to see his former kingly demeanor from him.

A rustling sound lurked in the dark coffin behind him, and dark shadows surged around the corpse king.

The gray mist rose and fell unsteadily, not existing in his perception, but actually touching his eyes.

"Aragorn, what a familiar name!" The corpse king made a hoarse sound like the throat of a rotting corpse.

"Thief, give me the ring and I will grant you eternal life."

The Corpse King stretched out his pale hand, and mist surged behind him.

Countless floating ghosts, zombies, dead guards, and bone knights appeared behind him.

The cold ghost fire slowly burned, it was a silent army of death, every pair of eyes was looking at him.

Greed, resentment, jealousy, tyranny, and the purest death and extinction are the most profound emotions that the dead have for the living.

The temperature continued to drop, and the cold air turned into solid ice, spreading from under the feet of the Corpse King.

Minas Tirith, the royal palace located on the top of the mountain, seemed to have entered the far north in an instant, and the biting cold wind entered.

He turned his brothers and subordinates, whether they were willing or not, into an army of dead souls.

What is this, a ghost version of "King's Army"?
"Ring." Zhuang Boshi pointed to his forehead.

"It's already here. Come and get it if you have the guts."

The dead look in the corpse king's eyes did not change, but the army of undead behind him became more and more dense, and the faint ghost fires swayed, showing a silent threat.

"Are you trying to scare me?" Zhuang Boshi sneered, "Aragorn, why are you still wearing the same attire as before?"

"Are you trying to cover up your battered, rotting body?"

"No wonder Arwen chose to give the ring to me instead of you."

In an instant, Aragorn's dead eyes became very sharp, which was a complex emotion of hatred, resentment, sadness and pain.

Zhuang Boshi's eyes flashed slightly, and a beam of light shone on Aragorn.

As the waves of death surged through the void, Aragorn's form finally tore through the veil of reality.

In this real vision stripped of the disguise of flesh and blood, he completely tore off the king's cloak that once led the light, revealing the doomsday totem walking within.

The armor that once symbolized glory has rusted along with the body, and the blue-black metal scales have penetrated into the dry chest like parasitic vines, and every movement brings with it the hoarse whine of peeling rust.

His skin was the bluish-gray color of swamp mud, with fluorescent green pus oozing from the sores. The skin that had not yet fallen off hung from his cheekbones like a tattered shroud.

The most terrifying thing was his eye sockets. Two dark green phosphorescent flames flickered in the hollows, as if an imprisoned vengeful spirit was peeping at the world through his skull.

His head tilted back slightly, and his rotten throat vibrated, making a hissing sound like the wind passing through a tomb.

The hair had long since been tangled with the corpse moss into a smelly knot, with swarms of flies laying eggs crawling in between.

When his lower jaw suddenly opened, half of his tongue covered with maggots was revealed, and those broken teeth shone with an ominous luster like obsidian.

The strangest thing is the "rhythm of death" lingering around him. The rotten flesh fragments and maggots fall off according to some invisible tidal pattern, but vaporize into gray mist the moment they touch the ground, and then absorb back into the gaps between the bones.

This endless cycle of corruption rituals caused the stench to be mixed with a strange sweetness, like the smell of aged blood and honey fermenting in a coffin.

At this moment, Aragorn has become a living tombstone.

The ground he stepped on was covered with frost-like fungal spots, and the hyphae gnawed frantically at the bricks and stones, imprinting the reality of death on the living dimension like a plague.

Even the raindrops that fell on his shoulders evaporated into mist the moment they touched the rotten flesh, repeating the cycle over and over again, never stopping, as if the entire city of the dead was wailing and offering sacrifice to his decaying body.

The Corpse King, truly worthy of the name.

Moreover, Zhuang Boshi already knew which evil god cursed Aragorn to fall, and the whole story was filled with the stench of Nurgle from beginning to end.

Zhuang Boshi had never seen Aragorn, but he saw this rotten body that looked like a corpse, and the painful, desperate, tortured and irrational soul stuffed inside.

He felt sad from the bottom of his heart. The hero who was about to save the world was murdered by conspiracy and his body was eventually used by the enemy to raise a monster called "Corpse King".

Even his own soul can only be stuffed in this rotten body, tortured by endless pain and emptiness every day.

Forced to watch how he destroyed his own kingdom and his own people.

Witness with your own eyes how the ghosts torture your loved ones.

Being unable to die, and being unable to die, this is eternal despair.

The corpse king, revealing his true form, let out a shrill scream, and along with the thousands of ghosts and living dead behind him, they roared silently and violently, echoing the anger of their master.

The shrieking sound once again triggered the power behind the curtain, and the link that was cut off by Zhuang Boshi fell again.

Here it comes again. Zhuang Boshi looked up at the enchanting blue moon. A whispering sounded in his ears, and an unusual mental force was trying to penetrate into his heart.

This is an extremely deadly spiritual poison to any living being, but it is difficult to shake a fourth-level strongman who has overcome his inner demons.

But the evil gods' methods are always endless, especially since they have left countless backup plans in this world.

As the power of the Supreme Heaven continued to erode, the entire City of the Dead became the ritual altar of the Supreme Heaven, and in an instant it was transformed into a projection of the Supreme Heaven.

As the fog rolled, broken pictures began to flash before my eyes.

His indestructible state of mind was constantly assaulted, and he seemed to be thrown into an infinite abyss by the power of the highest heaven.

But a hand held him, not just one hand, but many cold hands held him. They were the dead with sad faces, their mouths open, as if they wanted to say something to him.

But as the darkness of the abyss came over him, Zhuang Boshi lost all vision.

When he opened his eyes again, a black and white world appeared before him.

To be more precise, it is the spiritual world of countless dead souls in Minas Tirith.

A gloomy rainy night, empty ruins.

There was silence all around, and countless shadows stood silently in the darkness, densely packed and looking terrifying.

"Help me."

"As long as you give me some food."

This is the sad words of a soldier who was disemboweled and tied to a cross.

"Help me."

"If you only give me an inch of your skin."

A child who had lost his skin stood at the edge of the ruins, terrified.

"Help me."

"As long as you give me health for one day."

A emaciated slave trapped under the rubble coughed up blood.

Zhuang Boshi watched all this silently without answering.

He could see that these were the pitiful souls who had died in vain in this city over the years and had been devoured and imprisoned. The saddest thing was that even their wills after death were being used by Chaos to influence him.

You are beyond redemption.

Anger, sadness, and sentimentality only stayed in his heart for half a second, and then he forcibly calmed down his inner waves.

"Save my child. She's alive, she's dying."

Said a woman in tattered clothes, hanging on the roadside and swaying in the wind.

The faint sound of a baby crying could be heard from the alley.

"Save her, save her."

The woman repeated, her pale face was blue and purple, her eyeballs were swollen, and her appearance was horrifying. Her stomach was cut open and the child was taken out.

She was hanged because she wanted to escape from here, but her stomach was cut open by the cultists to please the evil god.

Zhuang Boshi said nothing and continued walking forward. But he knew that the woman was not lying. In that alley, there was a life that was rapidly fading.

"Please, my child is really still alive. I am willing to exchange everything for her life." The woman's voice sounded behind her, and she repeated it again.

His head shook and hit the wall, making a thud-thud-thud sound.

Zhuang Boshi didn't stop, but the anger that had been suppressed in his heart was about to overflow.

"Save her." A young man with only the upper body left pulled his trouser legs.

"I she is still young, she still has hope, please."

A young girl is sinking in the mud.

Her eyes were full of the desire to survive, and she stretched out her hand to him with tears in her eyes.

But Zhuang Boshi didn't take it and continued walking forward.

He knew that every dead soul and every prayer was real.

They were praying to him, but he was unresponsive.

In the rainy night, countless dead people like her were staring at this scene, without exception.

The look in their eyes changed from pleading to the dead silence of shattered hope.

Zhuang Boshi has reached the end of the road.

At the end of the road were the ruins of a royal palace. On top of the ruins, a thin figure sat on a huge coffin, as if he had been waiting for him for a long time.

He looked exactly like Aragorn whom I had seen on the top of the mountain before.

His face was pale and there was deep sorrow in his eyes.

"You came faster than I thought."

"Although I had expected this, I was really despaired when you walked here without stopping for a moment for those begging people."

"Why despair?" Zhuang Boshi spoke for the first time, his tone very calm.

He said in a hoarse voice, "Outsider, what's the difference between you and them?"

"No mercy, heart of steel, stingy conscience, playing tricks."

"You and them are all the same."

"So high and mighty."

“They don’t care about the lives of us indigenous people.”

"Isn't it?"

　Chapter 2 Ten O'clock
　　
　
(End of this chapter)