Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 81 [I was forged in iron, imprisoned in sainthood]

The dim light from the smelting furnace flickered in the dark workshop, but it couldn't illuminate anything.

The blurred silhouette in the shadows seemed to be deep in thought. The knight's helmet was mostly submerged in darkness, with only the gleaming edge shimmering with a faint bronze glow in the shadows.

"Are you familiar with the Holy Iron, Mr. Lysander?" Thankfully, the voice from within the hollow armor remained gentle and steady.

“Iron for warding off evil, iron for exorcising spirits.” Lysander nodded before the furnace. “However, only the Holy Light Kingdom likes to use this kind of thing; most other kingdoms and powers have no interest in holy iron.”

"Why is that?" Samael's voice rang out from the shadows. "Logically speaking, this kind of iron can play a very important role in many fields."

“Holy Iron is extremely averse to magic. Those who use Holy Iron weapons or wear Holy Iron equipment cannot use magic, cannot drink potions, and cannot even use combat skills.” Lysander shrugged. “However, these three technologies are important legacies of the gods, and most of our current technology and power depend on them. Who in their right mind would use Holy Iron?”

"The Holy Light Theocracy uses Holy Iron because of their cultural traditions and the doctrines of the Holy Light—their doctrines hold that demonic substances are evil, and that those who use demonic substances will eventually be corrupted into demons."

"In the Holy Light Kingdom, magicians and potion makers are not allowed to exist. Any research or manipulation of magical substances, once discovered, will be dealt with severely. At best, they will be regarded as lost souls who have been deceived by the devil, and will be imprisoned, have their blasphemous creations destroyed, and be forced to repent. At worst, they will be regarded as colluding with the devil and will be executed on the spot without trial."

"Under such strict management regulations, every year there are devout Holy Light believers who defect from the Holy Kingdom, becoming adventurers or mercenaries in the desolate lands, or concealing their identities and going to other countries. But this also results in the devout believers who are loyal to the Holy Kingdom being fanatical supporters of the Holy Light."

"Furthermore, the true strength of the Holy Kingdom lies not in the Holy Iron, but in its utilization of Holy Iron technology. Their Holy Light techniques and Holy Iron creations are unique, capable of replacing combat skills, magic, and potions in many ways. Moreover, the Holy Light has a strong anti-magic property, which can quickly destroy magical structures, rendering rune arrays, magic technology, and magical circuits ineffective, and even causing potions to deteriorate."

"Whether it's the Erdrick Empire, known for its potion-making, the Florent Kingdom, known for its rune magic, or the Supar Empire, known for its bio-alchemy, the Holy Light's terrifying anti-magic effect is enough to serve as a powerful deterrent, preventing other forces from acting rashly."

"The Holy Light Theocracy itself has little interest in other forces, and simply stays quietly in the southern part of the continent. Whether it is the executive officer of the Adventurers' Alliance or the envoys of other kingdoms, the Holy Light Theocracy basically never receives them."

"The Holy Land is located in the sunny south, and the holy city of Luminya, where the Papacy is located, is bathed in bright, brilliant sunshine that shines on every believer and also burns every blasphemous heretic."

Samael nodded, indicating that he understood. He placed the bronze gauntlets on the scorching furnace.

[Psionic circuit structure activated: Holy Iron Smelting Method]

Molten ghost copper surged from his palm, rapidly circling the furnace as a psionic conductor, forming a winding, zigzagging circuit resembling some strange, alien circuit.

[Holy Iron Smelting Method: A double-layered smelting furnace is constructed. Iron-containing materials are heated until melted and placed in the lower layer of the double-layered furnace. Loose, porous coal is placed in the upper layer of the furnace for the absorption and storage of repelled psionic energy.]

[By setting up a complex repulsive loop, psionic backfire will force iron to form a highly resistive structure, thereby expelling psionic energy and maintaining an uncontaminated state of matter.]

After the flames began to burn brightly in the furnace, he turned to another smelting furnace, which was filled with iron ore.

Da da.

With the numb, sluggish footsteps of the undead, the carcass of a massive lion-like monster was dragged into the smelting workshop and thrown into a corner next to the furnace. Its carapace-covered body was pierced by long claws of Nether Bronze, and the broken Nether Bronze claw blades remained in the wounds. Foul and pungent blood flowed continuously from the cracks, staining the beast's grayish-brown mane red.

“A noble beast.” Samael leaned down slightly, gazing at the corpse. “From the border between the Misty Lake and the Wilderness Ruins—prey that escaped the claws of the Derkgon, ultimately could not escape death.”

“I will forge your value from death as a final tribute.”

[Psionic circuit structure activated: Bloodsteel smelting method]

He extended his gauntlet and pressed it onto the smelting furnace. The molten ghost copper spread out, splitting into multiple layers, forming a grotesque array of psionic circuits on the furnace's surface.

[Blood Steel Smelting Method: Active biological materials are placed in a sealed space with a suitable temperature (between approximately 25 and 40 degrees Celsius), filled with a crushed, psionic-rich biological matrix, and then cultured in vivo using a multi-layered psionic structure. This process takes approximately 24 hours.]

[The cultivation of biological materials is complete when they form swollen, fleshy clumps with weak mobility, attempting to leave the confined space using a peristaltic motion.]

[Please complete the subsequent procedures immediately before the fleshy structure undergoes further changes.]

Immediately place the swollen bio-matrix onto a forged, high-quality steel billet. Pierce the blood steel bio-matrix with a sharp instrument, or rapidly reduce the temperature (using ghost copper), and wait for it to actively fuse into the steel billet.

[Warning 1: Avoid direct skin contact with the fleshy structure to prevent corrosion from high-purity psionic energy or organic contamination, which could lead to unknown mutations. Operation by Nether Bronze Automated Engineering Machinery is recommended.]

[Warning 2: Please ensure that the flesh structure is properly sealed in bloodsteel before it undergoes further evolution to prevent excessive growth and unpredictable dangerous consequences.]

Using specific biological blood and flesh as a culture medium for meat structure allows the produced blood steel to possess species-specific characteristics.

Samael paused, deep in thought.

The process of smelting blood steel, and the way it is described, is disturbing.

"What's wrong, boss?" Yachi's voice came from the other side of the stove.

"What does 'corrosion of high-purity psionic essence' mean?" he asked in a low voice.

"What is that?" Yachi asked, looking completely bewildered.

If Samael had eyebrows, he would have frowned, but now he only had a helmet left, so he could only adjust it slightly.

“Lessandra?” He looked at another expert there.

Lysander shook his head.

“I’ve never heard of that word before,” he said, shrugging.

Samael shook his head and waved his hand, signaling the undead to move the corpses out and back to the surface.

“For safety’s sake, the smelting of Bloodsteel will be moved to the surface, and I will conduct it alone in my Knight’s Tomb,” he said in a low voice.

“I’ll leave the smelting circuit for the Holy Iron behind so you can copy and study it.” He nodded to Lysander, who had been staring longingly at the psionic circuit with drooling eyes. “The smelting of the Holy Iron is now in your hands. I’ll also trouble you two to take care of the furnace when you have time. I need a lot of Holy Iron—a huge amount.”

Lysander and Yachi nodded.

Samael nodded in acknowledgment and turned to leave the smelting workshop.

Beneath the dome of the dungeon, life is thriving. In the lakes of Rahador, some enormous shrimp-crab monsters have been found. They are adapted to life inside the dungeon and have been released into huge breeding ponds at the edge of the dome.

The Root Spheres collected a large amount of dead branches, leaves, fruits, and seeds and brought them into the underground city, making the flora and fauna even more abundant, and the psionic ecosystem was thriving.

The palace was already more than half completed. The cave dwellers, like termites building an anthill, were driven by the demon craftsmen to crawl around the palace carrying molten stone.

He didn't linger, but wandered through the insect-path labyrinth, returning to the empty surface where the wind rustled through the tall grass. With a clanging sound, Samael passed through his knight's tomb and entered the underground burial ground where the undead were buried.

The rotting corpses lay dazed in the underground tomb. The abscesses and rotten flesh, properly fermented by the psionic environment, gradually swelled, oozing fluid, and then slowly absorbed the fluid back into the body.

From the bright red of fresh flesh, a hazy deep red gradually seeps out, then blossoms into bluish-purple and black, like a radiant sunset hatching from the flesh.

The meat eventually transformed into a dark reddish-black, putrid substance resembling clay, tough as fascia, yet exhibiting astonishing plasticity when it came into contact with the Nether Bronze.

This is the main substance that constitutes the Corpse Demon: Dead Flesh.

The scanner is now enabled.

[Dead Flesh. Organic material born in a psionic environment; toxic, but possesses a degree of self-repairing ability. Can be shaped using Nether Copper.]

Samael gazed at the corpses he had stored, admiring the "maturation" of the Corpse Demon for a moment. Watching the hazy, deep reddish-purple hue bloom from the fermenting liquid, he felt a sense of calm and comfort.

A moment later, he suddenly realized what he was looking at and leaned against the wall coated with thick bronze, feeling like he was going to vomit.

But his body was calm, numb to the point of comfort, without the slightest urge to vomit, or even to see more. He had no throat, no stomach; the so-called vomiting was merely a shadow of the past.

He suddenly realized with a clear understanding that he was just an undead. From the moment he first saw the corpses on the giant tree of corpses in Fallenthorn City, the feeling that corpses and decay brought him was no longer one of discomfort and disgust, but rather a peaceful sense of peace and a faint pleasure.

So this is how all the other Ghost Riders feel? He leaned against the bronze wall, thinking.

Every day, they collect the dead, watch the corpses rot in the tombs, and reach out to touch the straw-like bones and clay-like chunks of flesh.

Sitting on the beach of death is like a child building his own kingdom with sand, waiting for a huge wave at sunset to destroy his sandcastle.

After all... the number of living people... is as numerous as the sands of the sea.

Samael pressed his helmet against the bronze wall, then slowly straightened up, trying to clear his mind of all other thoughts.

Talia is right. Spending too much time with the undead could have some terrible consequences.

He entered the familiar underground room and opened the large bronze box placed in the center of the room.

“Oh! It’s so bright all of a sudden…” Rahado’s voice came from the box.

“Your arm armor.” Samael looked at the Rahador helmet in the box.

"Oh!... Uh, what arm armor?" Rahador's helmet exclaimed halfway, then hesitated and laughed awkwardly.

"Can you feel your arm armor?" Samael asked.

“I…I’m not sure…” Rahado stammered. “I’ve been lying still the whole time and haven’t tried to move my limbs—after all, moving around wouldn’t have helped, would it?”

"Are you still cooperating with Purang?" Samael paused for a moment before continuing to ask.

"Are you kidding! How could I possibly have anything to do with that Prange again? I wish you, boss, would beat Prange into submission as soon as possible!" Lahadur replied seriously, getting rid of the suspicion cleanly. To some extent, this statement is indeed true.

“Understood.” Samael nodded. “It seems your arm armor was stolen by Prange. As the person temporarily holding your arm armor, I apologize for this.”

He placed his hand on his breastplate, leaning forward slightly with a gentle and sincere expression.

“And I assure you, I will capture Prange tomorrow and demand that he return your arm armor.” He answered calmly, “Prange’s actions have been too heinous. In order to ensure that he can no longer pose a threat to you, me, and Ansba, I may use some rather harsh methods to carry out some… simple behavioral and cognitive correction.”

"When the time comes, if I am certain that your words and actions are trustworthy, I will discuss with Ansba the possibility of piecing your body back together so that you can assist us as a collaborator."

"However, if your behavior remains absurd and insidious, and you cannot be trusted, you can undergo a period of severe reformation together with Prange."

"Oh!" Rahadu's helmet groaned. If he could sweat, he would be drenched in cold sweat by now. "Really, really, boss..."

“Really.” Samael nodded. “Initially, I didn’t intend to imprison you in this state for long. I desperately needed allies, fellow human beings, and like-minded partners. That’s why I left your arm and leg armor in the open area of ​​the High Grass Plain, so that I could easily put you back together at any time. I didn’t expect Prange to take advantage of the situation.”

"See you tomorrow, Rahador. I'll take care of Pranjer's matter tonight. Tomorrow, I'll come to apologize to you with the torn-up Pranjer."

“Oh…uh, okay, Boss Samael! Uh…see you tomorrow!” Rahado stammered, letting out a couple of slightly neurotic, dry laughs.

“I’d like you to stay in the bronze box for one more day—or perhaps I should take you out into the sky to bask in the sun or something. I think being exposed to sunlight and nature is good for maintaining the rationality of a living person, just like Ansba,” Samael said. “However, barring any unforeseen circumstances, you will be free tomorrow.”

He closed the box lid, gently put the box down, and left the basement.

The clanging metallic footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Rahado remained silent for a moment.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!" he screamed!

Across a vast distance, among the bushes at the edge of the misty lake, a secret force of serpentine ghouls wearing Collins-style bronze helmets had just formed, carrying massive scythes and spiked morning star hammers, dragging heavy decapitation swords, and lurking in the shadows.

The leading serpentine corpse demon, covered in chainmail and withered, barbed brass, raised its left arm—a brass arm guard with barbs and chainmail, along with shoulder and gauntlets, fused with the corpse demon's left arm.

It raised its thin, bronze gauntlet and slapped itself hard across the face.

"Why the hell did I have to steal the arm armor in such a hurry?!" The serpentine corpse demon hugged the rusty bronze tree next to it, banging its Collins helmet against the trunk, making the chainmail on its body rattle.

"Originally, I could have been free after staying quietly for two days, but now I'm going to be imprisoned, tortured, and forced into labor with Pulange!" It clung to the tree, swaying left and right, jumping up and down like a pole dancer, making the rusty bronze tree creak.

After shaking for a while, it suddenly came to its senses.

“Wait… a minute…” The serpentine corpse demon raised its thin, barbed arm armor, pondered for a moment, and suddenly had an idea.

Since Samael believes that Prange stole the arm armor, then all that's needed is for the arm armor to actually appear with Prange, right?
His current identity is that of an "honest and simple victim"! Even if Pulange claims he doesn't know what happened, the boss will no longer believe him.

The Corpse Demon raised its thin, bronze spiked arm guards and beckoned, leading a small squad of serpentine undead carrying scythes as it stealthily swam towards the Prange swamp.

(End of this chapter)