“Marcus was killed by the Church of the Father, and his head was thrown into the Inquisition. I found his head for you and asked Theodore for help. He resurrected him, making Marcus the first undead in the world.”
Mylis nodded: "I remember, and I will always be grateful for your kindness."
Throat Bone: "After that, Theodore wanted to share all the research results with the Church of the Father, so I killed him. You and I, along with Marcus, fled to the Southern Empire for refuge."
Myris: "Yes, we have completed our necromancy here and realized the superiority of the necromancy race. Immortality will free us from the constraints of desire, and the necromancy will be a perfect race."
Throat Bone: "But have you ever thought that immortality is actually not perfect? In fact, it's more like a curse, making us forever puppets in the hands of the gods."
Mylis's voice was filled with doubt: "A curse? What are you talking about?"
Throat Bone: "This world is nothing but a pawn in the hands of the gods. As long as you live, you must accept the control of the gods; death is a permanent liberation."
Mylis couldn't understand what the throat bone was saying: "We are the undead, we are already dead!"
Throat Bone stood up from the chair: "What dies is our body, but our soul lives on, which means we are still unable to escape the control of the gods."
Mylis: "Throat Bone, what exactly do you want?"
Throat bone: "I want to know the true meaning of existence."
Mylis: "The meaning of existence? What are you talking about?"
Throat Bone: "You don't understand? Of course you don't understand, and I'm not surprised at all."
The man with the throat bone walked up to Myris and stared into his eyes: "I am about to embark on an unknown path. You cannot help me, nor is it possible for you to help me."
Mylis shouted, "Throat Bone, you're insane! Listen to what you're saying! Do you want to live alone forever...?"
Mylis's words came to an abrupt end.
The five fingers, forming a knife, pierced directly into Myris's chest.
A dazzling pale blue light emanated from Myris's chest.
Soon, the pale blue flame in Myris's eyes gradually faded and eventually disappeared completely.
Throat Bone withdrew his hand, looked at the remains of Myris at his feet, and said softly, "Loneliness... perhaps. The path to hell is more suited to a solitary journey."
Thousands upon thousands of undead parasites rushed into the room, swarming towards the desperate living people.
Amidst the sounds of flesh being gnawed and agonizing screams, Throat Bone turned and left the room.
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