"Do you feel that I am very stupid?" Alex asked Elias, his voice breaking: "Always minding how others look at me, wanting to receive their recognition even though they look down on me..."
"You are not stupid, Alex. This is very normal," Elias said. "Humans are social creatures; they need to receive the recognition of their own kind. This is a survival instinct."
"Can you understand my feelings?" Alex asked, tears on the verge of falling. Elias was a high and mighty god, eternal and immortal; could Elias truly understand his complex, insignificant state of mind right now?
"Gods also need recognition." Elias replied, his voice carrying a trace of distant nostalgia: "Without believers praying, without faith, gods will also feel lonely amidst the vast universe."
Alex looked at Elias; Elias was so tall that when he stood up, Alex had to tilt his head back to clearly see the gaunt white skeletal face, but Elias was also weak just like Alex, speaking words that admitted loneliness.
Elias was braver than Alex; perhaps this was the difference between a god and a mortal.
Elias dared to admit his own loneliness and weakness.
What was the difference between a god without believers and a dead person without an identity? What was the difference between that and a Corpse Collector hiding in this shabby little house, secretly crying in the night when the cold wind blew in?
Alex became determined and wiped away his tears. Every time after secretly crying, Alex would become determined like this; this determination would gradually be consumed by cruel reality, until he cried again, and then stood up determinedly once more.
Alex always repeated this process; this was how he—an ordinary person—lived on in this cruel world.
This time was the same, yet this time was different.
He had a courage of unknown origin.
Alex thought, sometimes courage is something that comes for no reason at all; perhaps he had not discovered it yet, but the thing called courage all came from rebellion and suppression within the inner heart.
He hugged the white skeleton in front of him.
Even though his small stature only reached Elias's chest.
What kind of god was Elias?
For the first time, Alex wanted to know the answer to this question.
...
The night in the wilderness was full of eeriness; thick fog began to creep through the canopy of trees, clinging to the cold flesh.
Dry branches shook wildly like withered arms waving and beckoning; night crows cawed lonely cries, and from afar, occasional miserable howls of wolves echoed back.
Alex carried a kerosene lamp and bore a heavy shroud bag on his shoulder, walking with uneven steps on the muddy mountain road. Mud stuck tightly to the soles of his shoes; every step consumed an extra portion of his strength. The winding path was tortuous, invaded by weeds, leading to a forbidden ground for the living.
The suburban graveyard.
This was the first trial for him to become a Necro-Speaker.
At a place filled with deathly aura, he had to complete the spirit summoning and sign a contract with a soul.
Elias had told Alex in detail the things he needed to pay attention to; the voice echoed low and deep in his mind like a compass. Due to the limitations of the special extraordinary nature, Alex had to complete this trial by himself; no one could intervene directly in the ritual.
However, considering that he was naturally close to the undead and bore a special mark that attracted evil spirits, Elias had given a finger bone to Alex.
The god's bone possessed special power; it was smooth and glossy like jade, emitting a faint warmth amidst the freezing winter night. If Alex encountered a danger he could not control, Elias could rely on this small piece of bone to complete a divine descent.
Even though Elias had turned into white bones and lost the vast majority of his power, he still had more than enough strength to protect a weak human boy against ordinary dark forces.
Alex held the kerosene lamp high; the orange-yellow light of Karamor's Tear was stable and gentle, creating a small protective circle, dispelling the darkness that was waiting to swallow everything before his eyes.
In the darkness outside the spreading light, some lurking existences had slowly awakened; whispering sounds of unknown origin began to ring beside his ears.
Alex tightly grasped the small piece of bone in his hand, feeling the warmth from it transmit into his palm which was soaked with cold sweat, and took each step firmly forward.
The path of the Necro-Speaker was indeed like an extraordinary path tailored for him; the affinity with the undead did not need to be discussed, and even the place of deathly aura needed to complete the advancement was just as fitting, as familiar as his own backyard.
More importantly, it was the boy he had saved.
Gary.
To advance from an ordinary person to a rank nine Necro-Speaker required a bridge to communicate with the Shadow Realm; this bridge was a guide spirit.
For others, wanting to obtain a spirit meant they absolutely had to risk their lives to summon one. And spirit summoning was full of uncertainty, like a life-and-death gamble. With just a slight slip-up, if the summoned soul was too strong, it could cause the summoner to die on the spot with their soul shattered; summoning an evil spirit could even cause a disaster that slaughtered an entire region.
Especially since the advancement trial strictly required it to be completed alone. An ordinary person facing a powerful spirit body with soaring resentment had absolutely no chance of survival.
But Alex did not need to face these dangers; Gary was a natural-born spirit, a gift of fate.
The boy was perhaps not too powerful, but he lacked two senses, his mind was like a blank sheet of paper, and the possibility of being polluted by the raving whispers of the Shadow Realm was extremely small; he was an extremely pure spirit body with extremely strong moldability.
Added to the fact that the boy himself did not want to reincarnate and still lingered in the world, when signing the contract with Alex, the resistance would be close to zero, and the situation of a failed contract causing a backlash that would drive Alex mad would not occur.
Alex carefully glanced at the soul following him. Gary floated gently, his innocent face completely unaware of the surrounding danger.
Elias had explained to Gary the things they were about to do, and the boy had agreed, nodding obediently, because Mr. Skeleton said that by becoming a spirit, the boy would not need to reincarnate, would not need to leave this place, and could even obtain some strange powers to protect himself.
Mr. Skeleton was how Gary called Elias; the boy did not quite understand what a skeleton was, the concept of life and death in his eyes was very vague, and he also did not understand what the meaning of an angel was, so he called Elias "Mr. Skeleton" in an innocent manner.
Elias did not mind the offense in Gary's form of address.
In the boy's simple understanding, "Mr." was a very respectful title; those nobles sitting in luxurious carriages, dressed neatly, with servants lifting their skirts or opening doors, were mostly called "Mr."
There were also people called "Master" or "Lord", but Gary felt that Mr. Skeleton, even though he was only bones, must have a very young appearance and elegant gestures, so he was not suitable to be called an old "Master".