Chapter 112: The Curse of the Dead

“It seems you really want it. Can this thing save your life?” Reaching out to take the oddly shaped badge from the desk, Donald sensed it mentally and immediately understood its function.
“It turns out to be the control hub for the warning barrier. That’s quite a good find. Even my teacher had trouble creating an item capable of unleashing such a large-scale magical barrier. Your family has gathered quite a few fine treasures over the years!” If Macbeth could move right now, he would surely be so enraged he’d spit blood.
What the other party meant was that not only would he deal with him personally, but he would also seize the treasures collected by their family through the ages.
After all, it was an item made by a mage. Although Macbeth had used it for over a decade, he didn’t understand the intricacies of magical items as well as a mage skilled in alchemy like Donald.
Soon, Donald found the true core of the external magical barrier—a three-foot-tall female statue on the other side of the study. Instead of taking the statue away right away, he used the badge in his hand to turn the external barrier into a sealed state. This way, no matter what happened inside, not even if chaos ensued, the outside world would never know.
Then he ordered Kelsas and Uther to carefully inspect the study’s surroundings. Only after confirming there were no other traps did he cast a spell to lift the previous immobilization effect.
Such restriction spells, once cast, could not be controlled by the caster even after a set time passed or until the target broke free. However, a reversal spell of the same third level could easily undo magical effects no higher than third level, especially those cast by someone like Donald.
Having regained his mobility, Macbeth didn’t act rashly. No matter how high his status, he was just an ordinary person with little talent. Not to mention becoming one in a million spellcasters, even in terms of ordinary martial training, his lack of talent meant he had only reached the middle level of black iron—back when he was young. That was why Macbeth resented talented people like Donald so much.

Now, an old and weakened Macbeth was not even at the level of an ordinary person, let alone resist the at least three bronze-level strongmen before him. As for Ad, the black-iron thief, since all lower-level tasks were assigned to subordinates, Macbeth didn’t even remember this minor character. Ad, who had prepared a lot to rebuke his former master in front of Donald when Macbeth asked about his identity, felt somewhat frustrated.

Macbeth himself was well aware of his own situation, so he tried his best to maintain his noble demeanor and said to Donald, “I never expected that little brat from back then to grow up to this extent. I really wish I had had the heart to deal with you then as well, so there wouldn’t be all these problems now!”

“There are many things I regret—like not killing you back then. It was just to avoid provoking resistance from other nobles. It’s too late to beg now. I wonder if Lord Viscount feels any regret or guilt about the despicable things you’ve done over the years?”

Macbeth looked at Donald in confusion and said, “Regret? It seems, as a noble, you’re still too naive. This world is one of survival of the fittest—only the strong prevail. If you don’t want to be devoured by others, you must use any means necessary to defeat your opponents and eliminate potential threats. What I’ve done is merely to ensure the continuation and growth of my family. What’s there to regret or feel guilty about?” Seeing Macbeth’s reaction, Donald knew his heart had been corrupted by power and status, and he no longer had a conscience. So he didn’t bother saying more.

“It seems Lord Viscount isn’t afraid at all!”

“What’s there to fear? It’s just death. Do you think you can leave after I die?” Donald wasn’t scared like Macbeth and said confidently, “If we could get in, we can get out. No need for more talk. Now it’s my turn to ask you some questions. Was it you who set up the scheme for my father’s gambling debts? Is your mother’s death related to you?”

Hearing Donald’s demands, Macbeth suddenly burst into laughter.

“Haha.”

“Why are you laughing at the brink of death?”

“I’m of course laughing at you! It’s funny—originally, we didn’t plan to act so quickly. We thought we’d wait at least until your grandfather, that shrewd old fool, passed away before taking action. Who would have thought your ignorant father would come to us on his own? Of course, I wouldn’t waste such a good opportunity. In fact, your grandfather died from anger over your father’s incompetence and stupidity; we didn’t even need to intervene. As for your mother, she’s quite beautiful. That pervert, Grie, originally planned to leave her some wealth to keep her as a mistress. But she had the same stubborn nature as your grandfather—she preferred to die of illness rather than accept Grie’s charity. Truly admirable!” Hearing Macbeth’s words, Donald’s hands cracked with tension. Though he had crossed over mid-life, through rebirth and the fusion of Donald’s original soul memories, a part of him still belonged to that once-proud but now fallen nobleman who was determined to restore his family’s honor.

Donald also shared deep empathy for the Melina family’s suffering and resentment, so he didn’t intend to listen to Macbeth any longer. He immediately drew his giant moonblade, ready to kill his enemy and put an end to this generations-long feud.

But when Macbeth saw Donald draw his weapon, he showed no fear at all. Instead, he wore an excited yet solemn, strange expression as he muttered something under his breath. “My lord Ivan, you are the King of Dawn, the embodiment of glory.” Donald initially thought Macbeth was just delirious on his deathbed. But after hearing those first words, he knew he absolutely couldn’t let Macbeth finish the prayer. In panic, he rushed over and slapped Macbeth on the back of the neck, knocking him unconscious.

After all, this world was different from the godless world of his past life. Swearing by gods was as common as eating and drinking. In this world, there were not only true gods but also entities like plane wills. Speaking nonsense carelessly could easily lead to divine punishment.

Moreover, the magic heritage given to him by Messehl stated that unless one was in an environment that could block divine senses, one must not casually invoke the name of a true god. Otherwise, that god would sense it in the shadows and hear everything that followed the name.

If it were a devout believer’s prayer in times of crisis, there’s a chance of over 90% of getting a response from the true god. Once the true god’s attention turns here, he fears his greatest secret will be revealed. Even if the Holy Book, this advanced artifact, remains hidden, the Dawn Lord, who senses the presence of people like him, would likely not spare a few mortals who killed his believers and would surely send the church’s forces to hunt them down. Being noticed by a true god is no good thing, especially since Donald himself possesses a treasure that even a true god would covet.

Thinking of this, Donald quickly sent a thought to the Holy Book, asking if it could block divine sensing.

The Holy Book responded immediately—one-fifth of its energy reserve vanished, and at the same time, a pale golden barrier expanded, covering the outer warning barrier.

After doing this, he waited for a while with no reaction, before finally exhaling in relief and saying, “I never expected Macbeth, as a Celtic noble, to worship the Three Radiant Gods. Could it be that his Macbeth family is an agent placed there by them in the Celts?” Who is the Dawn Lord Ivan? He’s the leader of the Three Radiant Gods, one of the most powerful true gods in the human faction. If it were a lower-ranked true god, their influence in the main world wouldn’t be very strong. As long as one hides in the realm of their rival gods, they can basically avoid danger.

But if targeted by someone like the Dawn Lord, one would have to hide in the Abyssal Plane to possibly escape the pursuit of the powerful members of the Three Radiant Gods’ church.

Fortunately, the Holy Book’s shielding barrier operates under very special rules—it’s a technique from another world. Even powerful true gods, unless they descend in incarnation or appear in person, can only sense that divine energy was present here not long ago, but now there’s nothing. Naturally, they won’t pay too much attention.

True gods aren’t omnipotent either. With so many believers praying every day, they can’t respond to each one. Otherwise, true gods would be far too worthless.

Normally, only a small portion of the most devout believers receive the true gods’ attention and divine sensing. When these believers are in danger, the true god they worship will come to their aid.

Clearly, Macbeth is far from reaching such a level. Power and desire have already taken over his soul—how much space is left for the true god?

Hearing what Donald said and thinking of some of the details, Ad was greatly frightened and quickly asked, “My lord, what should we do?” “There’s no need to rush. I’ll find a way to solve this!” Although a major crisis had been temporarily averted, Donald remained vigilant.

After a believer died, his soul would return to the realm of gods. By extracting Macbeth’s soul memories, the Lord of Dawn could still learn what had happened. So now, they needed to find a way to get rid of Macbeth without preventing his soul from returning, and without the Lord of Dawn detecting anything unusual!

Finally, Donald came up with a simple yet effective method. He summoned a bloody and terrifying monster on the spot, using its fangs dripping with viscous fluid to bite Macbeth several times. This monster was none other than a level-two undead soldier, a ghoul.

This was because Donald, seeing Ad standing by, remembered the time when he had threatened him with ghouls. He then realized that those infected by ghouls could not separate their souls from their bodies after death, unless they were promptly purified by a priest’s magic.

Witnessing his past nightmare reappear, Ad trembled with fear. Donald smiled and said, “Don’t be afraid. This is to deal with Macbeth!” To ensure extra safety, Donald took out a level-four magic core and summoned another level-four undead creature, a Hatebeast.

In this world, the Hatebeast was known as a Sewer Ghoul, created by a necromancer using various fragmented corpses through magic. These filthy monsters, like other zombie-like undead, moved slowly but were powerful. They liked to carry giant iron hooks and scythes to the battlefield to tear apart their enemies. The seams on the Sewer Ghoul’s body constantly oozed blood, forming clouds of disease in the air and emitting a nauseating stench.

Donald carefully controlled the Sewer Ghoul to release its disease clouds onto Macbeth. Once the sickly green mist touched Macbeth, it seeped into his body through his orifices and wounds like a living thing. Macbeth’s face, already pale from being infected by the ghoul, instantly turned black.

Seeing that both the ghoul and the disease clouds were effective, Donald drove the two undead creatures into the yard. Then he went to Macbeth’s side, picked up his weapon again, and prepared to finish what he had started!