Global Deities: My Talent Comes from the Stars

Chapter 42 Divine Messenger

Below the cliff, the lingering stench of blood in the cold wind persisted for a long time.

Shortly after Shinzo and the other two left.

Another group of men in black robes followed the trail and arrived.

When they saw the scene in the camp, their faces turned horrified.

Even the necromancer, who spent his life surrounded by corpses, felt a churning in his stomach at that moment.

Even with their extraordinary powers, they were still unable to escape the realm of humanity, and faced with the tragic plight of their kind, they inevitably thought of their own fate.

Several of the younger men in black robes couldn't hold on any longer and vomited on the spot, leaning against the cliff face.

"It must have been those kobolds in the stronghold who did it..." someone cursed while vomiting. "They must have a secret passage out of the city! No wonder they haven't collapsed yet after so long. Divine Envoy, I will definitely find that gap."

"Shut up."

The leading woman spoke coldly. She wore a dark purple robe with magical energy flowing through it, forming several human faces.

His black hair fell down from both sides, and his gaze, hidden beneath the hood, swept across the room like a razor's edge.

The monks who were still retching immediately covered their mouths when they met her gaze, forcibly swallowing back the acidic water, their legs trembling.

"Get these useless fellows up," the woman known as the messenger of the gods ordered. "Find out who attacked this place."

A monk stepped forward tremblingly, raised his bone staff, and chanted incantations over the corpse that had been split in two on the ground.

The green magic seeped into his flesh and blood, and ghostly flames lit up in his chest and eye sockets.

The mangled remains on the ground began to writhe.

It wobbled as it propped itself up on its arms and looked up to observe the faces of the people nearby.

Suddenly, the corpse grinned, sprang up, and lunged at the caster's face with its arms outstretched! The scattered remains around it also went berserk, dragging their severed legs and intestines, and attacked their former companions.

"I can't control them!" The mages retreated in terror, only to be grabbed by the ankles by the dead and fall to the ground.

The divine messenger standing to the side turned grim.

She raised her right hand and pressed it down into the air.

With a dull cracking sound, the permafrost exploded open.

A gigantic, pale white skeletal hand, larger than a millstone, burst from the ground. Its massive, bony fingers snapped shut like a cage, grabbing the frenzied corpses and crushing them into a shower of bone fragments and flesh.

After doing all this, the giant skeletal hand slowly sank back into the ground.

The woman stared at the lingering divine power in the air, her face ashen.

"You learn so fast, Liang Jiu," she snorted. "I shouldn't have underestimated you."

The human mages around them couldn't understand this seemingly random statement, but they weren't fools. They knew the divine messenger was in a bad mood and dared not say anything more.

Everyone lowered their heads in fear and began to clean up the battlefield tremblingly, afraid that if they were even a second too slow, they would become the next piece of trash to be crushed by the giant hand.

Meanwhile, a hundred miles away.

The negotiations have been concluded.

High in the sky, Liang Jiu, having nothing to do, turned his gaze to the wooden and stone fortress below.

The siege had just ended.

The fortress was filled with a strong, pungent stench of blood and decay.

Dozens of ordinary kobolds were chanting slogans as they carried logs to hold up the city gate, which was covered in deep dents.

At the foot of the city wall, dozens of dragon-blooded kobolds slumped against the wall. Their hard, dark red scales were covered with ashen frost and scars of varying depths. Piered and uneven heavy hammers lay carelessly tossed aside, the dented iron lumps still mixed with flesh and blood.

Through the drafty cracks in the windows of the dilapidated hut, one could see carts outside carrying away the mutilated corpses of their own kind.

A young dog-headed man had not yet grasped the meaning of death.

They curiously peeked out.

The mother behind it pulled it back, covered its mouth, and held it tightly in her arms. The cub didn't make a sound, but the mother herself, looking at the horrific scene outside the window that resembled a meat grinder, trembled uncontrollably.

Large tears fell as she let out a desperate and suppressed sob.

But in one corner of the square, another scene was unfolding.

Several kobold monks from Nanbang, clad in old robes, were releasing faint Buddhist light to remove the lingering death energy from the wounds of the heavily injured dragonblood warriors. Nearby, local craftsmen were sweating profusely by the furnace, hammering iron plates to repair the cracked armor of these foreign comrades.

Under the immense pressure of the siege of the dead, the native civilization of the Pure Land of Ten Thousand Buddhas is merging with the outsiders.

External pressure made both sides stronger, more resilient, and more united.

Liang Jiu watched this scene quietly.

If Sun Lang had the courage to completely assimilate these indigenous people and convert them into his own dependents, the benefits from this massive population base and accumulated technology would far surpass those from seizing a mineral vein. It would allow Sun Lang's dependents to reach the pinnacle of agricultural civilization in a short period.

Unfortunately, Sun Lang couldn't do it.

His extraordinary retinue was obtained by slaughtering ordinary members of his own race and through artificial selection to purify his bloodline.

Once the two are truly fused, the dragon blood will be diluted, the quality of the extraordinary will decrease, and this will become a dilemma.

If Liang Jiu were to take over, the only solution he could think of would be to issue a ban on intermarriage and establish a strict two-tiered citizenship system.

However, this is too extreme. The internal conflicts will inevitably erupt sooner or later, and even the gods will find it difficult to restrain them.

While I was pondering this.

Liang Jiu's consciousness suddenly trembled slightly.

A connection that transcended the wind and snow was transmitted to his senses through the divine power network.

The trap he casually set up seemed to have been triggered.

Using divine power to imitate necromancy was an unintentional act by Liang Jiu.

It was just a sudden whim; I wanted to use those few corpses to test how far I could control my divine power.

But unexpectedly, this casual move led him to uncover an unexpected piece of information.

The divine messenger leading the necromancers... was actually Li Qinggu himself.

It is not unusual for gods to bestow their will upon their own divine realm and create an avatar, such as a high priest or a king, among those who are eligible to awaken their divine realm.

But it's rare to see someone like Li Qinggu, who specially creates a clone to personally come to the front lines to oversee the battle.

However, after a little thought, Liang Jiu understood.

She and Sun Lang were exactly at opposite ends of a scale.

She has a large number of mortal followers and abundant divine power, but she lacks a reliable elite following.

The human spellcasters under her command were too weak. In order to maintain this huge but loose undead army and suppress the internal chaos, she, as a god, had no choice but to personally step in and take charge on the front lines.

Fortunately, Xin Zang was lucky and managed to leave cleanly and decisively.

If he had lingered a little longer at the bottom of the cliff and collided head-on with Li Qinggu's clone, Liang Jiu would probably have had no choice but to force his way down.