Phil Gray stared intently at the magic circle, watching as the black circle gradually grew larger. Amidst the heavy aura of death, an ancient gate appeared and disappeared above the altar.
It's the Gate of the Abyss!
He felt all his divine power drained away, but the door had only just begun to take shape. He steeled his resolve and frantically began to absorb the divine power from the Holy Stone of Death.
The feeling of having his divine power drained and then replenished was unpleasant, like being constantly washed by a raging torrent of water through his blood vessels and muscles, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered.
The gate to the abyss solidified, and the ancient and mysterious patterns on it seemed to flow, as if trying to draw one's soul into it.
This door seems different from the ones he used to summon the undead before. Will Wilder come out through this door?
Phil Gray looked nervously at the Gate of the Abyss.
The other believers also sensed a heavy and tense atmosphere. The door remained closed for a long time, but it did not seem like a failed summons. Instead, it continued to bring the aura of death from the abyss into the church.
Some people began to shiver, their bodies trembling involuntarily. Although the white stones inside the church were crackling and burning, it was even colder and more biting than the howling wind and snow outside.
Suddenly, the doors opened at an extremely slow pace, and before countless eyes, a pair of skeletal horse's forelegs stepped out first, followed by a mournful and piercing sound of horns echoing throughout the church.
The sound was like a command during a battle charge, yet it was also a lament for the dead.
Yilai Zhe's ancestor suddenly stood up, looking at the abyss gate with shock on his face.
Rodney's gaze was gloomy, but the red monster behind him seemed to be frightened by something, roaring silently at the gate of the abyss like a dog, but dared not pounce, instead retreating.
The skeletal horse finally led its master out of the abyss gates, and only then were all able to see the true face of the summoned one.
No, the summoned undead wore a black mask, so they could not see his true face.
Wilder, dressed in black knight's armor with an exquisitely jeweled helmet, stepped onto the altar with an air of dominance.
Phil Gray was relieved; the summoning had indeed succeeded. He was about to smile and greet his old friend when he felt his overexerted body completely give way. His vision blurred, and his body began to sway.
Summoning a divine-level benefactor is indeed quite difficult.
"It's been a long time, Your Majesty."
Wilder dismounted and walked up to Phil Gray. At that moment, Phil Gray felt the power of death fill his body, and all the discomfort caused by the overexertion of the power vanished suddenly.
A divine-level benefactor is truly terrifying; they can heal remotely without any unnecessary actions.
“Long time no see, Wilder.” Phil Gray sighed, wanting to ask him why he had faked his death to deceive him, but he didn’t know how to ask. After all, Wilder had helped him so much, whether it was escaping from the Papacy or giving him such a precious Death Stone.
Wilder seemed to see through his thoughts and chuckled softly, "Are you asking me why I lied to you? And why I concealed my true identity?"
“No, anyway, I just want to thank you. And you don’t need to use honorifics with me; I should call you senior. I just didn’t expect your true identity to be so impressive,” Phil Gray said sincerely.
“Oh, my Majesty, have I still displeased you? Don’t you want your knight anymore?” Wilder feigned a sad expression.
Phil Gray said with a hint of exasperation, "Stop teasing me. I don't believe Father could persuade a fearsome undead to be my knight. Otherwise, he wouldn't have died so early, right? And what about this ten-year contract? There hasn't been a trace of you all year."
He was even quite certain that Wilder knew about his otherworldly origins.
"I'm so sorry, but I've had to deal with some annoying guys these days." Wilder glanced casually at the red monster behind Rodney, only to see its body instantly annihilate into countless powders, disappearing without a trace in the air.
Rodney was shocked and held his breath, not daring to breathe out for a moment.
What happened? How could the undead summoned by Milu have annihilated his god-degraded undead with just a glance?
“And although I couldn’t be by your side, I’ve always been watching over you. Didn’t the owner of that bowl once lead you down the path to death?” Wilder pointed to the broken bowl that had been placed aside.
Are you leading me down the path to death?
Phil Gray was somewhat surprised. Countless memories flashed through his mind, finally settling on a cemetery in Durr.
Is Pope Nicol the old man in the cemetery?
"Here lies a pope of the Church of the Dead, who faced death under the watchful eye of the God of Life."
Phil Gray read the old man's epitaph aloud and suddenly understood.
"So that's how it is. It was all arranged by fate after all."
“Fate? No, don’t attribute all the credit to Him. You should also look at me, shouldn’t you?” Wilder said with dissatisfaction.
“Alright, alright, I must thank you sincerely. Also, I summoned you today because of a contest to summon the undead, which is part of the selection process for the Pope of the Dead. I didn’t expect you to actually accept my summons,” Phil Gray explained simply.
"Of course, I know all of that."
"You know all this?" Phil Gray was somewhat surprised. Even if he was paying attention to him, how could he know that he was competing to summon the undead?
Wilder doesn't seem like a voyeur, does he?
No, no, no, those high-level chosen ones should only possess the insight to know the future and the past, not be able to keep watching me in the abyss.
Paying attention might just mean simply noticing something.
“Ah, no, I mean, I can pretty much guess.” Wilder whistled, and the skeletal warhorse turned into a wisp of smoke on the spot. “Alright, shall we go down and exchange pleasantries? I don’t really want to be stared at by so many eyes.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Phil Gray looked at the archbishop.
The archbishop had been deep in thought for a long time. For some reason, he felt an urge to kneel down every time he looked directly at the dead, which made him almost afraid to use his divine power to sense the other party's level.
He asked respectfully, "May I ask what your rank is?"
Wilder burst into laughter: "My rank? This is the first time anyone has asked me that question. Let me think... Your Majesty, what rank of undead do you think would help you get a high score in this competition?"
Can levels be assigned arbitrarily?
Phil Gray was a little puzzled, but it seemed that Wilder's level was far beyond the God-level.
Could it be a quasi-god?
Just then, Yi Lai Zhe's ancestor came over and said in an extremely humble tone, "I am a god-level being, the highest-level undead I summoned in the previous competition. I admit that you are far above me. It is enough that this holy son was able to summon you. It is no exaggeration for him to get full marks."
“That’s right, you look quite familiar,” Wilder said casually.
“My ancestors once followed you, and I never imagined that I would meet you one day,” said Yi Lai Zhe’s ancestor excitedly.
“Well, as long as one’s faith is sincere, there is still a chance to see me again. In that case, won’t you announce the results of this round of the competition?” Wilder looked at the archbishop.
Under such gaze, the archbishop felt immense pressure. He didn't know the true level of this person, but considering that even a god-level undead was so humble towards him, his level must be...
For the first time in his life, the archbishop felt incredibly nervous. He stammered, "After three rounds of summoning the dead, the scores for each candidate are as follows: Holy Son Miluo, 10 points; Ileizer, 9 points..."
“Wait a minute, I think the gap between us and that person is more than just one point.” Yi Lai Zhe’s ancestor interrupted the archbishop.
The archbishop looked at the council of elders and noticed that they all seemed distracted and absent-minded. He then announced, "Iraizel, 7 points..."
Iraiz's ancestors shook their heads.
"Ilaij scores 6 points..."
He still shook his head.
The archbishop's lips twitched slightly. "Are you trying to prevent the candidates from having a chance to turn the tide?"
“Ellager 4 points,” he said tentatively, and seeing that Ellager’s ancestor did not react this time, he continued, “Rodney 3 points, Jaslin 3 points, Eli 2 points…”
Since Marshall no longer exists, naturally he won't score any points.
Upon hearing the score announced, Rodney, suppressing his fear, spoke up, driven by his desire for the papacy: "Isn't it a bit inappropriate to give us such a low score?"
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com