The cigar in his mouth had burned down to the stub. Lin Qi grabbed the butt, as thick as a carrot, and viciously ground it into Kurkulun's forehead. The pitiful undead god did not find those sparks particularly painful, but the utter humiliation made him roar aloud. "Damn you! You will certainly be punished! The great, supreme Undead Holy Temple has returned to the world—you will certainly be punished!"
The Undead Holy Temple? Lin Qi narrowed his eyes. It seemed he had never heard of such a thing. The Undead Continent had always been a forbidden zone for living creatures. They rarely interacted with the outside world, and the entire Undead Continent, true to its name, was deathly still, closed-off, and conservative. Very little news of it ever spread beyond its borders.
The Dragon Witch King let out a cold laugh. "The Undead Holy Temple has appeared once more. I know about this, Kurkulun. Of course I know! It was precisely because of this that I returned to the surface world. I came seeking a—a faintest sliver of hope!"
"Hope!" Lin Qi found it strange to hear that word from the mouth of an old undead lich. He looked at the Dragon Witch King. Weren't the undead supposed to be masters at driving people into despair? Did they need something like "hope" too?
Feeling Lin Qi's astonished gaze, the Dragon Witch King nodded fiercely. "Your Majesty Lin Qi, little fellow, I came to the surface world with the utmost sincerity. I seek hope for all the children of the Undead Abyss—hope that will allow them to go on living!"
With a few bitter laughs, the Dragon Witch King narrowed his eyes and lightly tapped the teacup in his palm with his fingers.
"Perhaps the gods themselves have yet to notice