The lord is red again.

Chapter 506: There is an NPC pretending to be immortal
"we won!"

Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Herman, I am Thor, the God of Thunder, raising my fist high.

Don’t worry about how many missions the Snowtop Cult has issued to the undead, or how good their relationship was in the past. It is enough to know that during this role-playing game, they completed the mission with “zero” casualties.

The NPCs who followed the prince to fight looked at each other in bewilderment.

They followed the prince to reclaim their land, and then the prince asked them to assemble, saying that there would be a fierce battle ahead. When they were ready to charge, the prince stopped them again.

Then we see the prince launching suicide attacks again and again until the undead arrive. With their help, His Royal Highness successfully destroys the Snow Summit Cult and takes back the kingdom.

But, I always feel like something is not right.

"We haven't charged once."

Not even a slogan was shouted.

However, no one paid any attention to the NPCs' doubts, as the "Prince" was in high spirits at this time, thanking the soldiers for their hard work and dedication, even though they did not move.

"We played an irreplaceable role in this war? When?"

"Our sacrifice? Hasn't it always been only the prince who sacrificed?"

"Don't look at me, I don't know."

The prince raised his arms and shouted.

The NPCs chose to raise their fists as well.

"Roar!"

Why bother with so many things? It is enough to satisfy the sudden urge in my heart to follow the prince to take back the kingdom. Nothing else matters.

The undead gathered together and looked at me, the god of thunder.

"What reward did you get?"

Most people who play games are enthusiastic. Although helping others to fight monsters in the game may be suspected of showing off, well, if you don't play games to show off or satisfy your own second-year desires, why bother to participate in it?

They are still very curious about what reward I got as Thor.

"No reward, maybe this country is my reward."

I am Thor, the God of Thunder.

Everyone was quiet, and then suddenly burst into discussion.

"Fuck, the first king?"

"Now that you have your own territory, can you also confer titles of nobility?"

"Fuck, let's just attack other countries."

A group of undead who were just joining in the fun suddenly became excited. Although the identity of the king seemed to have no effect, and there were even many unowned lands in the continent of Enstad, it would not be a problem for them to occupy the mountains and develop themselves.

But what you build yourself and what is recognized by NPC are two different things. Sometimes a good-looking title can make people stay up for days and nights to grind.

I am Thor, the God of Thunder, who is not yet accustomed to the social gameplay. He is very relaxed when chatting with NPCs and dares to say anything dirty, because he knows they are all fake, but it is difficult for him to open his mouth when facing the undead.

Amid the clamor and urging of a group of people, I, the God of Thunder, had no choice but to ask the NPC under my command.

"Can we start a war?"

"Your Highness, I don't recommend you do this."

After the sudden impulse in his heart disappeared, the NPC regained his composure.

"why?"

"The world has changed, and war is no longer limited to humans."

The gods have awakened, and every country has its own beliefs. In this situation, if a small country in the snow without the protection of gods starts a war on its own, it will only be destroyed by others with a simple flick of the tail.

The undead people present frowned in thought.

"After all this time, the king's power is granted by God."

"Nonsense, if there really are gods in this world, then of course the kingship is granted by God. Look at the gods in Enstad continent, haven't they already been beaten to death?"

"What god did the Snowtop Cult believe in before? Why don't we just continue with the old routine?"

"It's useless. If the god worshipped by the Snowtop Cult is really useful, would we be able to wipe it out so easily?"

Everyone was talking at once, but no one could come up with a suitable method. The reason was simple. They had been wandering around the Holy Hermann Kingdom before, and although they had barely become "experts" based on the strategies on the forum, they were actually just repeating what others had said and following the real bosses. They had never even seen a god in person.

To put it simply, they are speedrunning experts who have memorized a universal gameplay method. They can barely get by in the current version, but they are many times worse than the real T1 team.

I am Thor, the God of Thunder. I opened my mouth and said, "I have a very suitable candidate. Maybe it can work."

"Who?"

Everyone looked at him.

He said, "Lind Armann."

"Huh? The Black Knight? Is he a god?"

"Yes, although he has killed gods, he is at most a legendary hero, or a godslayer, not a god."

Some people disagree. They seek out God in order to curry favor with him and get feedback.

Gods can give feedback to their believers.

It was difficult for him to explain why. Perhaps it was the unique feeling that a very lonely single-player player had for an NPC that he remembered deeply, hoping that the other party would become a god.

"It doesn't matter whether there is a big thigh to hug or not." I am Thor and asked, "Do you really plan to develop here?"

There are no monsters to fight in the small snowy country, no magic material resources, no cool equipment, and even the low temperature constantly causes negative health effects.

Staying here is no different from being exiled to guard a fish pond.

"The Black Knight Order." I am Thor, the God of Thunder, said, "Those who join the order can obtain the title of knight."

"Fuck, I'm in!"

"I'll join in too!"

No matter whether the Black Knight will recognize it in the future or not, they will just take one first.

A group of undead stood up and worked together. Soon, based on the photo provided by I am Thor, they carved out a stone statue of Lind Alman wearing molten armor and riding a golden undead bone dragon.

From then on, the Snowtop Order disappeared and the Black Knight Order appeared.

Nothing changes for the people of the kingdom, no matter who they believe in or who is king.

For the undead, it is better to believe in the Black Knight than to believe in an NPC with a brazier on his head. At least he looks handsome.

……

The focal point of the war on the continent of Enstad, the alliance of 12 gods is almost falling apart and can only maintain superficial harmony.

Because of the rapid loss of the undead, they had to try every possible means to stop them, in order to retain these warriors who were not afraid of death. Unfortunately, no matter what benefits they gave, they seemed unable to keep the hearts of the undead.

It’s a brand new game map. Even if you give me a set of magical equipment, you can’t expect me to stay here. Besides, you don’t seem to be willing to give me the magical equipment.

Only some undead farmers who liked a stable life did not leave immediately because they were concerned about their land, cows on the farm, eggs in the chicken coop, etc., but everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before the undead left.

The old man in the scroll had no interest in the meeting anymore. From the immortals who could not keep any secrets, he knew some information about the Demon Land, including the so-called "story god skin" that Lind possessed.

The struggle for theocracy is the most intense, and only one person can have the last laugh.

Losing the Prince of Two Swords and Ana the Skinny Ghost was nothing to Him. As long as He completely controlled the divine power, He could create more powerful fighters in the future. Just like He wanted to obtain the power of the Story Master, the Black Knight would definitely not let Him go easily. When the other party's injuries were fully recovered, how could He hide from them? He could not trust any of those allies.

Terror filled his mind, and the old man in the painting's mind became very fast under such circumstances, just like a flame in the wild facing the impending heavy rain, stubbornly trying to find a way to keep itself from going out and suffocating so quickly.

Escape to the devil's land, a plane known as the border between the mortal world and the divine realm!

If he could find another guy who had the ability to dominate the story, that long-winded bastard who loved to tell stories, he might be able to turn the tables, get rid of the Black Knight, and take away some of the divine power from him.

The head of the old man in the scroll seemed to be split by a ray of light, which slowly spread out and enveloped his entire head. His appearance quickly changed and he became a man with strange clothing.

This is the conclusion drawn by the old man in the scroll after observing many undead people.

The appearance of the undead is very distinctive. Some of them are extremely beautiful while others are extremely ugly, and their speech and behavior are extremely exaggerated.

Aside from their looks, they wear very exaggerated and complicated clothing and like to make all kinds of fancy decorations on their armor.

Plane travel is not that simple, it requires coordinates.

It is impossible for the old man in the scroll to travel aimlessly, so following the undead in the Black Knight's underground cemetery to the devil's land becomes the best option.

The appearance is camouflaged and will never be discovered because the picture is also part of the story.

And the identity he drew for himself could not be easily seen through even by the undead. Everything was part of the story.

The Black Knight Necropolis.

It was the first time for the old man in the scroll to walk into this huge fortress building. Looking around, he saw densely packed undead. The entire area seemed to be occupied by flies, and the buzzing sounds of talking drilled into his ears.

"It seems my disguise was very successful."

The old man in the scroll was very satisfied with himself. He "painted" himself as a wizard with a strength of about 1st ring, which was the largest group among the undead.

For clothing he chose a set of iron barrel armor, with a blue cloak on the outside with strange runes on it.

"Next is the selection to go to the Demon Land."

Even if a direct train to the Demonic Land is opened, the number of people who can be teleported there every day is not large. Currently, the Black Knight camp can only rely on gods with 6th-ring strength to help open the portal. It is purely manpower-based and the number of people who can open the portal is limited.

The old man in the scroll didn't need to ask anything. As long as he stood there for a while, all kinds of information would come into his ears.

"Can I win a ticket to the Demonic Land by participating in a lottery at the store?"

"Eating snacks has a chance of getting a ticket to the Demon Land?"

"Maybe there's a ticket to the Demon Land in the treasure chest from the dungeon?"

I heard the message, but I didn't understand it.

Because the undead have a habit of speaking, which is "I'll send you the link."

What is a link?

Or you can say "Look at this guide."

What is the strategy?

The old man in the scroll, who had long known that the undead had similar mental network abilities, was not surprised. He just felt that the time he spent eavesdropping here was a complete waste of time.

He planned to go through the so-called dungeon, but he didn't know which dungeon had tickets, because the undead people were speaking in obscure and difficult to understand words when they talked about this matter.

The old man prepared a scroll for himself
"Bring the magic land ticket, precious materials or equipment, parking space 1, +++++++"

A big man was shouting at the top of his lungs.

After eavesdropping for a while and seeing many people saying "+++", the old man in the painting moved over.

"Can I get a ticket to the Demon Land?"

"can!"

The other party did not doubt the identity of the old man in the painting. He looked him up and down, and then asked, "Will you come? Pay first."

The meaning is not difficult to guess.

The old man in the scroll took out a few necklaces.

"Fuck, a necklace blessed by the gods actually increases charm? Although it's a limited-time item, it can last for two and a half years, which is enough. Bro, where did you get it from?"

There are equipment that increases charm. Some gods are more like succubi, so they will give out charm-enhancing potions or clothes as rewards.

"Is that enough?" The old man in the painting was not used to the other party's way of speaking.

The necklace is blessed by the gods, because He Himself is the gods, and He can have as many as He wants.

"Enough, definitely enough! As long as you don't mind the loss."

It was just a two-ring gadget that he casually took out. The old man in the painting directly stuffed the thing into the other party's pocket and said, "Take me to get the ticket."

"OK, let's go!" The undead man nodded, "By the way, brother, can you add me as a friend? Otherwise, what if you think I ran away and stole your things?"

As he said this he opened his right hand.

The old man in the painting remained unmoved.

He knew that was the way the undead connected with each other, but his identity was fake and he couldn't "add friends" at all.

"No need. They are all bad people. I'm not afraid of you running away. It's okay as long as you are not afraid."

The undead man gave a thumbs up and said, "Your words are the most pretentious I've heard in recent days! We run our business with integrity, so you can rest assured."

Soon a few more people came together and formed a team.

After dividing the necklaces, several people set off, with the old man in the scroll following behind them. They went to a "dungeon", which looked like an underground castle.

"I'm not afraid to tell you that we actually figured out how to get the magic land tickets here."

The undead talked a lot, but what they said was all nonsense. After all, they would definitely not easily tell others the money-making business secrets.

Quickly enter combat status.

The enemy facing him was not very strong, only at the 1st ring level. The old man in the painting thought about hiding his identity, so he suppressed the urge to attack.

Watching the undead people nervously directing the actions.

They are indeed a team that is very good at fighting. Although the coordination between them is a bit messy and their combined attack skills are clumsy, they trust each other very much.

There are really people who can take the initiative to protect their companions from being stabbed.

A figure wearing a flaming crown appeared, burning with a powerful aura comparable to that of the 3rd ring.

"This official dungeon copy has a regularly refreshed mini-boss. If the number of people wasn't limited to 5, we would have flattened it long ago!" said the undead leader.

The old man in the scroll savoured the war, watching as several undead men died trying to protect him.

"Brother Pepsi! Come on! We'll help you attract attention! Go in and get the tickets!"

Pepsi brother?

Who are you talking about?
The old man in the scroll turned his head left and right.

"Fuck, Pepsi brother, come on, I can't take it anymore!"

"I?"

The old man in the scroll pointed at his nose.

"Of course it's you. Wearing a Pepsi cape, I, a Coke fan, am embarrassed to say anything to you!"

(End of this chapter)