"So… I grab one pair of boots," Lin lan muttered, gripping his Blood-Slaughter Bone Blade, "and suddenly it's a full-scale welcome ceremony?"
He poured spiritual energy into the blade and took a guarded stance.
But he knew better.
Posturing wouldn't save him.
An elephant could be torn apart by ants—and these weren't ants. They were endless waves of Skeleton Moles, each one capable of chewing through bone. If they rushed him all at once, he wouldn't last a minute.
Maybe not even fragments would remain.
I need an opening, Lin lan thought grimly.
Just then—
Clatter.
The Skeleton Moles suddenly parted, retreating to both sides as if responding to an invisible command. A wide path opened.
Down it marched a single figure.
Its posture was upright. Its steps measured. Its chest puffed out with unmistakable authority.
Lin lan's eye flames flickered.
"…You."
It was the same Skeleton Mole he'd spared earlier.
Instant regret hit him like a punch.
I should've crushed it when I had the chance.
He tightened his grip on the blade, already deciding that if things went south, he'd grab this mole and use it as a shield.
The Skeleton Mole King circled him twice, slow and deliberate. Then it stopped, straightened, and began squeaking furiously.
The meaning came through loud and clear.
You dare rob this king on his own land? Treason! Utter treason! What punishment do you think you deserve? I have summoned my army to pass judgment—
Lin lan's patience snapped.
He quietly gathered spiritual energy, ready to split the creature's skull in one clean strike.
Then—
The Rat King's tone changed.
Completely.
Its chest deflated. Its squeaks softened, even… respectful.
It praised Lin lan's mercy. Praised his restraint. Declared him a rare noble soul among the undead of the Nine Netherworlds.
And since Lin lan had spared its life—
The Rat King would repay that kindness.
It waved a tiny paw.
Several Skeleton Moles strained as they dragged forward an enormous package.
Lin lan froze.
"…Wait. What?"
He'd braced for revenge.
Not… gifts.
Did I just get robbed… after committing a robbery?
What kind of underground culture is this?
Beside him, Shen Daolun leaned in and whispered, "Undead in the Nine Netherworlds evolve through endless slaughter. Mercy doesn't exist to them. What you did wasn't small—it was shocking."
"So… this is gratitude?"
"Exactly. Just don't make a habit of it," Shen added dryly. "Most undead won't repay mercy. They'll stab you in the back."
Lin lan nodded, suddenly enlightened—and extremely pleased with himself.
Looks like being a good guy pays off.
(He conveniently ignored the robbery part.)
Shen Daolun inspected the package, then burst out laughing.
"Truly magnificent!" he declared. "A tattered cotton coat. A worn straw hat. Incredible treasures! You should cherish them."
Lin lan's excitement evaporated.
"…You're kidding."
The Rat King stiffened, clearly offended. It squeaked furiously, waving both paws.
"These are relics of a supreme necromancer! The Spirit Witch Armor and Spirit Witch Helmet! Forged with ancient necromantic magic—lighter than steel, tougher than iron, impervious to blades and arrows! I would never give them away if you hadn't spared me!"
Lin lan looked again.
This time, carefully.
Beneath the grime, the "cotton coat" revealed layered runes etched with precision. Dark light pulsed faintly between them.
The "straw hat" was woven from an unknown material, its brim stitched with an incantation circle that shimmered subtly.
They were filthy—but unmistakably powerful.
Jackpot.
He put them on and tested the armor with his blade.
The Blood-Slaughter Bone Blade—Earth-grade, Tier 3—barely left a scratch.
Lin lan's eye flames flared.
"These… are real treasures."
Lightweight. Durable. Perfect.
Exactly what he needed to face the Skeleton Archers.
He turned to Shen Daolun, grinning. "Well? How do I look?"
Before Shen could answer—
Every Skeleton Mole turned toward Lin lan.
They erupted into shrill, reverent squeaks.
"Our idol!"
A ragged cotton coat.
A battered straw hat.
And freshly looted, beat-up boots.
One word: Cool.
Two words: Very cool.
Three words: Extremely cool.
Four words: Absolutely legendary.
Skeletons were common in the Nine Netherworlds.
But this?
This was history in the making.