Iron Hammer Wants to Follow

No one explained anything to Anfuni. In this sealed basement, only faint golden radiance flickered—now breaking off, now continuing; now strong, now weak—like a short-circuited current. Yet within that dim light, a wisp of transparent soul was gathering. Drawn by the radiance, it gradually drilled into the corpse that no longer possessed the slightest trace of color.

Most obvious was the wound on his lower abdomen. As though touched by a goddess, it healed and restored itself at a speed visible to the naked eye, finally vanishing completely.

His stiff neck twisted around awkwardly, and the air filled with the crackling sounds of bones snapping back into place.

After a full half hour of treatment, Iron Hammer's wounds had long since vanished completely. Aside from his bloodless, pale complexion, he was almost no different from a normal living being.

Anfuni stared intently at Iron Hammer's chest. His heart had not started beating yet, proving that he had not been fully resurrected.

Second by second, time flowed onward, but the corpse before them still showed no sign of reviving. Anfuni unconsciously glanced at Li Ziran beside her. He was very calm, as if he was not worried about failure at all.

Cough!

In an instant, a cough shattered the basement's silence. Iron Hammer, lying on the bed, sat bolt upright like a drowning man, gulping down air. At the same time, his chest began thumping violently.

He was alive!

He really was alive!

Anfuni stared blankly at Li Ziran, urgently wanting an explanation. This was a Resurrection Spell—the secret of the Justice Alliance, never passed down to outsiders—yet it was now in the hands of an utterly inconspicuous Cavefolk.

The Cavefolk seemed completely unaware of his own great feat. After Iron Hammer sat up, he wiped the sweat from his forehead,