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The light blue particles radiating from the inside of the throat bone slowly diminished, and finally stopped.

The body shape of the throat bone gradually wilted, and even the blue flame in his eyes faded a lot.

He knelt on one knee, listened to the sound of destruction in the city, and looked down at both arms.

Like weathering for thousands of years, the two metacarpal bones of the larynx gradually lost their original color, gradually turned gray, and finally collapsed and dissipated a little bit.

"Is the limit of the body?"

As he spoke, the throat bone stretched his arms to the sky.

Soon, countless light blue particles floating from the deceased's body gathered from all corners of the city to the side of the throat bone, repairing the damage on his body at a speed visible to the naked eye.

In less than a few minutes, the metacarpal bones of the larynx were intact, and there was no trace of injury.

Walking out of the inner hall, the throat bone dragged his robe to the street of the city.

The black undead parasites are like a squirming carpet, already occupying every inch of the surrounding land.

The corpses of humans, livestock, birds, and beasts are like prey on a spider web, tightly wrapped by parasites.

The throat bone stretched out his hand, and the necromantic parasite on the ground immediately gave way.

Walking all the way, as if looking for some throat bone, I finally came to the door of the large library, watching a group of scholars and soldiers infected by parasites, wandering around the door, as if blocked by some force. .

Stepping over the threshold of the library gate, the throat bone walked along the steps towards the second floor.

Dense parasites hung the walls of the library, replacing the original precious murals and becoming the decoration of the entire building.

Walking to the astronomical table at the end of the second floor, an old scholar who was infected by a parasite stood in front of the thick iron gate.

The throat bone recognized him, the curator of the Imperial Library.

This old man with necrotic parasites squirming all over his body is one of the few people familiar with the throat bone in the empire.

He is a frequent visitor to Saladin's library, often giving lectures in the library, discussing academic and philosophical ideas with many students.

The curator stood at the door and blocked the iron gate with his body, with no intention of giving way.

Looking down at the throat bone, the door was in a mess, with obvious signs of fighting.

The throat bone raised his hand slightly, and the dead curator's figure paused, but he still didn't leave the gate, and even made a vague shout in his mouth.

The throat bone muttered to himself: "Do you still have some consciousness before death?"

Before the words fell, the throat bone waved his right hand, and the curator's body was suddenly torn apart, and corpses and parasites flowed all over the place.

The throat bone gently pushed the iron gate of the astrological table, and the heavy iron gate flew back and crashed to the ground.

In a scream of exclamation, the throat bone slowly walked into the room and found the person he was looking for-Myris.

Myris, who had taken off his human skin and disguised himself, was completely restored to the appearance of white bones, wearing a gray robe. Behind him were hundreds of young scholars, including men and women, nobles and civilians.

Miles stretched out the bones of his palms, and faint bluish particles spread out from his palms and filled the entire astrological table.

It is precisely because of this force that the necrotic parasites attached to the glass and terrace of the astrological table, although they kept gathering, still did not rush into the room.

The appearance of the throat bone caused Miles to shout in anger.

"The throat bone! Did you do all this?!"

The throat bone beckoned, and a chair flew from the corner and stopped firmly behind him.

Sitting down slowly, the throat bone looked at Myris who was still struggling and said, "I guess I can find you here."

"Are you crazy?!" Myris's roar echoed throughout the room: "This is different from our original plan!"

The throat bone leaned back against the chair, looked at the ceiling, and muttered, "Plan..."

Myris continued: "We have said that we have selected a group of scholars from the empire who are outstanding to impeccable in terms of knowledge and character, and let them slowly accept the dead through daily contact and academic exchanges. Finally let them join us!"

Throat bone tilted his head, looked behind Miles, and said with a smile: "Look at the horror of those young people, I don't think they will accept the dead."

Myris said with difficulty: "The youngest son of the Nebuhani family, he reads many books and can argue with his teacher at the age of seven; The gas picture of human breathing...These children are people who are committed to the truth. For them, wealth and power are of no importance. I'm sure they will be able to accept the necromantic race!"

The blue fire in his throat bones eyes jumped, and after a moment's pause, he said to Miles: "These are not important."

Myris was furious: "Then what is important! Me! You! And Marcus! We are the only three dead souls in this world. We have been alone for so long. Don't you want to welcome new members? Come into our big family?"

"You said it yourself. The undead don’t have the desires of the living. What we care about is academic! It’s the truth! The undead is a perfect race, a race that can abandon all desires and be holy! Did you forget? ?!"

The throat bone looked at Miles: "I haven't forgotten."

Miles: "Then why would you do this?! You ruined all our plans!"

The throat bone took a long breath and said, "Myris, do you remember the first time we met?"

"Marcus was killed by the Heavenly Father Church, and his head was thrown into the heresy court. I helped you find that head, and I went to Theodore for help, resurrected him, and made Marcus into this world. The first undead."

Miles nodded: "I remember, I always thank you for your righteous deeds."

Throat bone: "After that, Theodore wanted to share all the research results with Heavenly Father's Church, so I killed him. You and I took Marcus and fled to the Southern Empire to seek refuge."

Miles: "Yes, we have completed the necromation here, and we are also aware of the superiority of the necromancers in the race. Being immortal will make us no longer trapped in desire, and the necromancer will be a perfect race."

Throat bone: "But have you ever thought that being immortal is actually not perfect, in fact it is more like a curse, let us become dolls in the hands of gods forever."

Myris' voice was full of doubts: "Curse? What are you talking about?"

Throat bone: "This world is nothing more than a **** in the hands of the gods. When you are alive, you must accept the manipulation of the gods, and death is a permanent relief."

Miles could not understand the words of the throat bone: "We are the dead, we are dead!"

The throat bone stood up from the chair: "We are dead in the body, but the soul is still alive, which means that we still can't get rid of the control of the gods."

Miles: "throat bone, what on earth do you want to do?"

Throat bone: "I want to know the true meaning of existence."

Miles: "The meaning of existence? What are you talking about?"

Throat bone: "You don't understand? Of course, you won't understand, and I won't be surprised at all."

The throat bone walked in front of Miles and stared at the opponent's eye sockets: "I will walk on an unknown road. You can't help me, and you can't help me."

Miles shouted: "The throat~lightnovelpub.net~You are crazy! Listen to what you are saying, do you want to live alone..."

Myris' words came to an abrupt end.

The five fingers of the throat bone pierced directly into Myris' chest.

A dazzling light blue light spread across Myris' chest.

Soon, the light blue flame in Miles' eyes slowly faded and finally disappeared completely.

The throat bone retracted his palm, looked at the wreckage of Miles under his feet, and said softly: "Lonely...Perhaps, the road to **** is more suitable for walking alone."

Thousands of undead parasites rushed into the room and rushed to the desperate living people.

Amidst the gnawing and screaming of flesh and blood, the throat bone turned and left the room.

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