The place is called Kapuka.

Everything here at this moment is exactly the same as the scenes he saw during his apprenticeship.

Only, inside the massive workshop, there wasn't a solitary person. Only a monotonous, mechanical, neutral voice informed him of this challenge.

This challenge seemed excessively simple to Fang Hong:

Create a Magic Guided Conductor.

This simple beginning marked the start of the seventh challenge.

...

"Who's there?" Leiya asked sternly.

In the darkness, there was a light 'click' sound—though to be precise, it was accompanied by a series of rattling noises—a gray-white skull rolled out under the watchful gaze of the serious lady.

The skull got stuck between the floor tiles, and suddenly two flames ignited in its hollow eye sockets, its mouth opened and closed as it replied, "Ah, sorry, it is indeed me," it answered inverted: "Did I startle you, madam."

Another series of clattering sounds came from the darkness.

A headless skeleton draped in a robe swayed awkwardly as it walked out, picked up its head, and set it on its neck, shaking it twice.

Then it raised its head, looking at Leiya while lifting its hands: "Don't be nervous, madam, it's just that this body has been a bit unreliable since the last time—that damned madam, oh, I don't mean you—Lady Leiya Senar, Grand Commander of the Holy Word Knights, I just hate cats a bit..."

It propped up its chin, snapping it a bit before finally fixing it securely, appearing relieved.

With flames flickering in its eyes, it lowered its head and bowed lightly to Leiya Senar: "My name is Tang De, from... well, where I came from is a matter of my past life, I believe you wouldn't care much."

Leiya recognized this as a Sorcerer-Ghoul.

Some Sorcerer-Ghouls were strong while others weak, but to her, they were all the same.

She gently blinked: "Who are you?" then seriously added, "What are you doing here?"

"Don't worry, madam," Tang De replied with its mouth opening and closing: "I'm not here for you, I just came to find the master of this place, he happens not to be here, but I can wait here for a bit."

It looked at the position opposite Leiya and asked, "May I sit here?"

It asked again: "I mean, you don't have any unnecessary misunderstandings about undead creatures, do you? I've heard your Holy Word Knights..."

"Sit," Leiya interrupted it: "I'm not like them."

"Of course," Tang De complimented: "You are the Holy Chosen, naturally different from those blockheads, so I'll sit here then, don't worry, I often use a Deodorizer, and this body doesn't have any rancid smell."

This made Leiya frown, casting a displeased glance at this verbose Sorcerer-Ghoul. If it hadn't mentioned, she wouldn't have thought of those disgusting things.

But she remained vigilant, looking at the skeletal frame, she asked, "You came to find the master here?"

"I brought some news," Tang De answered: "In hopes of seeking the master's help."

"Some news, related to Nevade?"

"More or less, it's not that I can't tell you, Lady Leiya Senar," Tang De replied: "Just that some ill-intentioned people attempt to attack this place, I heard they are interested in a young fellow, but I guess the master here would certainly not want these people to cause trouble on his land—"

Leiya was slightly stunned, suddenly frowning.

She stood up and asked, "Who are you, are you telling the truth?"

Of course, she was standing on her chair—otherwise standing up would probably make her shorter than sitting down.

...

A shadow was emerging from the edge of the Forest.

It was an uncountable number of shadows and vague dark red spots of light, producing a series of crackling sounds, meandering through the jungle.

It seemed like an army.

But it did not belong to the world of the living.

If a passing Hunter were to see this scene, they would probably be so scared their legs would give way—the last time the Southern Region faced an Undead attack was over a decade ago. Ever since the Battle of Bain, with the purge of the Cultists and the founding of the Southern Alliance—the entire Southern Region from Dulun to Fanric has been reshaping and birthing a brand new Order.

This Order brought ten years of favorable weather, peace, and tranquility.

But such days seem to be fading away.

The young Alchemist watched the Undead traversing the hills and forests, looking slightly pale—though he knew they were not targeting him, he still felt somewhat fearful. The Messenger emerged from behind him, silently observing this somewhat cowardly young man—

A hint of disdain flashed in his eyes.

His face was paler than the last time, with scars from the Battle of Aimumu Fortress lingering on his cheeks. Immortal Life comes with its Eternal costs, but the deeper scars lay in his heart, and as he thought about the troubles he might encounter, his resentment towards the past events only grew more intense.

At Dolifen too, at Aimumu Fortress too, the stroke of good luck of the past half-year seemed to be reaching an end, encountering two inexplicable disruptors in a row, failing consecutively twice, this has significantly lowered his status in the eyes of that esteemed figure.

"Don't be afraid," yet thinking to himself, the Messenger still gently comforted the young man: "We are still allies, those strengths you dream of can still be within reach, now we fight side by side, you don't need to think too much."

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