Once upon a time there was a greedy snake.

Chapter 242: Undead Army

Half a month has passed since the collapse of the Temple of Elysium, and the chosen champion Ilios is becoming increasingly uneasy.

Clearly, their plan had backfired. The god of pleasure, whom they considered terrifying enough to destroy a civilization, had failed to subdue the ancient serpent—in fact, they sensed that the god of pleasure had withdrawn his gaze and was no longer paying attention to this land.

This made them increasingly uneasy.

Having received the divine grace of the god of courage, been influenced by the god of wisdom, and now rejected the joy of the god of pleasure, who knows what these natives really are—can they truly defeat such a thing? Or perhaps, does such a thing even exist?

Yes, it does exist; after all, the facts before our eyes are undeniable.

As for whether or not they can win...

"Definitely!"

Elias gritted his teeth.

As the chosen ones of the god of courage, they had no reason to back down.

Since we have chosen to fight, we must fight to the very end.

However, even if a fight were to be fought, how to fight would be a major problem. At least as things stand now, rushing in recklessly would be nothing short of foolish suicide—after all, under the influence of the God of Wisdom, the immortals from all walks of life among the local natives have already gained the ability to convert their three or four hundred level professional ranks into actual combat power.

This means that if they rush over like this, the only consequence will be helping those immortals reach level 500.

Other than that, there will be no results whatsoever.

"We still need to find a way to gain experience, at least to reach a level of combat strength comparable to theirs... Hmm?"

It was at this moment that Ilios suddenly sensed a team charging toward the camp of the Chosen Champions.

When Elias stepped forward, he also saw what the group looked like—a group of junk scavengers with extremely poor equipment. Just by looking at their tattered armor and chipped short swords, you could tell they had no fighting power whatsoever.

Of course, their eyes might be considered fierce, but even if they are fierce, what can they do?

"Experience that comes to us should be killed."

As Elias drew his longsword, the other chosen champions also drew their blades.

As for the battle itself, it went as they expected. Although these junk collectors seemed fearless, they were no match for the chosen champions when it came to fighting. Not to mention their tattered short swords couldn't even leave a scratch on their armor. With such fighting strength, how could they possibly come looking for trouble?

Thus, the charge left behind only corpses, and the chosen champions gained the experience they wanted. Although the experience was somewhat limited, it was enough to satisfy them after many days without improvement.

As for the corpses, they didn't care much. They just cut off some heads and stuck them on the spikes of their shoulder armor as spoils of war. As for the local natives who secretly came to transport the corpses back in the middle of the night, they didn't care either. After all, on the one hand, they were too lazy to desecrate the enemy's corpses, and on the other hand, they were worried that among those who came to transport the corpses, there might be some strange figures like "corpse-moving immortals".

What they didn't expect was that on the very second day of the battle, those raggedly dressed warriors attacked again.

"Hasn't this... already been killed once?"

As the weapons clashed, one of the chosen champions realized something was wrong—after all, the faces that appeared in front of the blades had already appeared once yesterday, but these already dead trash collectors had actually reappeared and even dared to charge at them.

"So, you can be resurrected?" Upon realizing this, the many chosen champions were overjoyed.

An enemy that can keep resurrecting is undoubtedly the best enemy, especially for them at the moment, as it is a stable source of experience. So, after yet another satisfying massacre, they didn't even touch the corpses.

After all, they had all more or less figured out that those who came to collect the bodies last night were probably there to help these dead people come back to life.

"Now there is hope of killing all these natives."

The champion, chosen by God, couldn't help but sigh.

"As long as we keep gaining experience, we can continue to grow stronger. As long as we keep getting stronger, one day we'll be able to wipe them all out... Elias, why are you looking at me like that? Am I wrong?"

"..."

Elias remained silent, still thinking about what had happened during the day.

Indeed, the chosen champion was absolutely right. At least on the surface, the logic of constantly getting stronger and then being able to kill everything would not be wrong in the logic of any chosen champion. But Elias always felt that something was not quite right, after all, there was a problem with the current situation itself.

Even if it's just a bunch of garbage collectors, they can still gain experience after killing them. The ancient snake also has experience and levels, so it would naturally know this.

Even knowing that this would make them stronger, these trash collectors still keep pouring out. Has that ancient serpent gone mad? Is it planning to use this method to aid the enemy?
"No way, absolutely impossible."

Elias frowned; he instinctively sensed that something was wrong.

But right now, if he can't explain the source of the problem, he can't persuade these chosen champions not to take action. After all, these chosen champions haven't seen experience in a long time. If he wants to cut off their source of experience now, it would be like digging up their roots and taking their lives.

If Elias wanted them to stop, he would probably be the first person these chosen champions would kill.

But if we don't stop...

"……Um?"

Seven days later, one of the chosen champions, amidst the daily battles, suddenly sensed something was amiss.

Simply because his sword, which should have been invincible, was blocked.

The broken short sword in front of him actually began to keep up with his speed, and the garbage collector's frail body actually managed to block the powerful blow with a rather stable stance.

But it was only a temporary hold, and perhaps only for a moment. After all, there was a qualitative difference between the weapons of the two sides. The broken bronze short sword could not possibly withstand the powerful slash of the fine steel greatsword.

So, naturally, the garbage collector in front of them was cleaved in two.

But just as this chosen champion wanted to easily declare the battle over, as he always had.

He suddenly noticed a scratch in the seam of his armor.

(End of this chapter)