Where He Is

The Elegy Poetry Society might not have been the only secret society in the world, but it was almost certainly the one with the highest threshold for entry. Not only did one have to be a member of the undead, but one also had to be at least a legend to be eligible to join. There was no system of recommendation or inheritance; only the President possessed the authority to invite new members. Thus, over countless years, the Elegy Poetry Society remained scarce in numbers, small enough to fill just a single tavern. When the Rose of Decay stepped into this small tavern in the desert, less than half of the Elegy Poetry Society's members had arrived, yet there were surprisingly outsiders in the establishment. A band of fellows who looked like mercenaries were loudly boasting and discussing in various corners, talking mostly about recent momentous events. Over two months had passed since the great overseas battle, yet the repercussions it brought were far from settling down. The desert was territory Ryan had seized from the dwarves, never particularly secure to begin with. Now, with Ryan thrown into utter turmoil internally, they had even less inclination to manage these lands. The mercenaries chatted about the large-scale withdrawal of the paladins, seemingly on orders issued by the newly appointed Supreme Arbiter. The desert was likely being abandoned outright, and no one knew when the dwarves would strike back. The desert inhabitants had only just learned the prayers and hymns of the Lord of the Dawn, only to find themselves switching masters once more. Who knew whether the dwarves would settle scores once they returned? The Rose of Decay soon spotted her close friend, the bone dragon young miss, Canggu. Cloaked in a mantle that concealed the horns of her dragon soul, she looked like an ordinary adventurer. Beside her, however, Gareth did not even wear a helmet; he had merely shrunk his stature, leaving his identity as a Headless Horseman on full display. Perhaps it was this audacious appearance that kept the other patrons at a wary distance. After all, this was still Ryan's territory. Even if Ryan was somewhat chaotic lately, an undead drinking openly and brazenly on Ryan soil was either a fool or an absolute powerhouse—and neither kind was someone to provoke. The Rose of Decay sat down next to Canggu and asked in bewilderment, "Did you leave your true body in the Dragon Tomb?" Canggu shook her head. "It's right outside the tavern." The Rose of Decay said in surprise, "I can't see the slightest sign of it. Canggu, you've gotten stronger." Although the bone dragon young miss's legendary boon was stealth, the Rose of Decay knew her too well and immediately noticed the change; her abilities seemed to have made a qualitative leap. Yet Canggu sighed. "I would rather not have it. This is a blessing bestowed by the Dragon Gods. Not just me—several lucky dragons overseas also received the blessing, including my father." "Isn't that a good thing?" the Rose of Decay asked. "It made my father sprout the idea of returning to the continent again. He doesn't even stop to think—if war breaks out once more, won't it be us bone dragons who get used as cannon fodder, shielding those useless living dragons? And in the end, they reap all the benefits. Do we bone dragons need continental food? Do we need those luxuries?" The bone dragon young miss held an entirely different perspective: bone dragons were undead, and the undead were not dragons. Never mind that the kingdoms on the continent were in a mess right now; the revival of the Demonic Dragon Tyrant had rattled them severely. If dragons dared to return, they would inevitably draw a siege from every kingdom. When that time came, the first to die would undoubtedly be the bone dragons. The Rose of Decay sneered coldly. "The Dragon Gods simply won't give up. They'd truly rather see dragons in this world go extinct than let them remain cooped up overseas." "Isn't that the truth? A bunch of fools thinking they actually possess real capability. I had Gareth suppress my father, or else I wouldn't even have had time to come out for some air." The Rose of Decay: ... Gareth let out an irritated grumble as well. "I'm annoyed too. I had to hold back my strength, but that old guy grew stronger after receiving the blessing. If I held back, I couldn't be sure of keeping him pinned down. Later, when I used too much force, Canggu complained about me..." Before he could finish, Gareth took a punch from the bone dragon young miss. "You almost chopped my father's head off! How could I not blame you?!" "My fault, entirely my fault! I'll practice more. I guarantee I'll apprehend your father without a scratch next time!" ... Watching the pair bicker affectionately, the Rose of Decay felt a twinge of envy alongside a pang of melancholy. Back when Anbaixiu was still around, the two of them never seemed to have shared such closeness. She had once thought none of this mattered, yet after his departure, the Rose of Decay realized that even her own obsession had shifted because of him. Ryan no longer mattered. What she had to do next was bring his soul back. Though her resolve was set, the Rose of Decay still couldn't bear watching her best friend flaunt their affection. Interrupting the pair, she asked, "Why was this place chosen?" Canggu shook her head. "No idea. The Poet chose it." Canggu pointed, and only then did the Rose of Decay notice the Poet standing behind the counter, wiping glasses. The Poet was still dressed as a bard, looking like the down-and-out sort who could never make a name for himself. He was no seasoned bartender either; his motions wiping the glass, far from pleasing to the eye, made it seem as though he harbored a grudge against it. The Rose of Decay did not greet the Poet. Right now, she only wanted to wait for the President to arrive, so she could consult that mysterious senior and hope he might help retrieve that man's soul. After waiting quietly for a short while, members of the Elegy Poetry Society arrived one after another. The dwarf vampire arrived relatively quickly, floating into the tavern with his feet off the ground, projecting a two-meter-tall aura despite his height of one point two meters—though once he sat down, the sight of his feet dangling off the floor looked rather awkward. The ghoul Youjiaxi followed right behind, still bearing the demeanor of an elegant gentleman. By his side walked a dark-skinned, burly man, who was recognizably the giant Imu, shrunken in size. Even shrunken, he stood over two meters tall, with a terrifying physique of bulging muscle. What made it even more awkward was that Imu sat right next to Herki Stone, making the dwarf vampire look smaller than Imu's arm. Herki Stone badly wanted to switch seats, but soon Aige arrived, along with that mysterious President. This time, the President still appeared as a skin-and-bones skeleton draped in tattered robes that covered most of his frame. At the sight of his arrival, every member of the Elegy Poetry Society rose to their feet in unison and bowed respectfully. Every person in the Elegy Poetry Society had received the President's help to some degree. Gareth had been saved thanks to the Necromancy Codex; Canggu had successfully reincarnated only through the ring bestowed by the President; Aige had been personally guided by the President to learn speech... To say nothing of the others, all had benefited from his grace in one way or another. With the Elegy Poetry Society assembled, the small tavern immediately felt cramped. Moreover, everyone present was an undead of legendary rank; dark mana naturally gathered around them, causing the tavern's temperature to plummet rapidly. Many patrons sensed something amiss and hurried out of the establishment. Before long, only the members of the Elegy Poetry Society remained inside. The Poet sighed helplessly in lament. "Doing business really isn't easy; another day operating at a loss. I originally wanted to follow Little Brother Diga's example and experience building something from scratch, but only when I actually tried did I realize how hard it is." Hearing the Poet mention that name, the expressions on everyone's faces grew graver. Raising his glass, the Poet addressed the crowd. "Today we gather here to remember our departed friend. Though our time together was brief, he was an amusing little brother. Since the founding of the Elegy Poetry Society, three members have completely fallen. Please drain this cup for our friend, and remember, the undead are not truly eternal and indestructible." The liquid was golden, exuding a peculiar fragrance. The Rose of Decay drained her cup in one gulp, instantly feeling as though her soul itself had been soothed. It was evidently brewed specifically for the undead. Yet she could not care less about this bit of pleasure. As soon as everyone lowered their cups, the Rose of Decay could hold back no longer and blurted out with an edge of impulse, "President, can you tell me where his soul is?" Setting down his glass, the President cast a calm look at the Rose of Decay and said, "You wish to bring his soul back?" "Of course. No matter the cost!" the Rose of Decay answered firmly. Everyone looked toward the President; even Herki Stone could not help feeling a spark of anticipation. Regardless of their past relations, that lich had ultimately been a friend to everyone, and his actions had indeed proven him a true friend. Helping Aige become a deity, helping the Rose of Decay achieve vengeance, helping Gareth handle his domestic troubles... Everyone remembered all of it. The undead were emotionally distant, but even strictly in terms of self-interest, the members of the Elegy Poetry Society hoped he could return. Yet the President merely shook his head. "You cannot do it. It is a price no one can pay." The Rose of Decay said in shock, "Even you cannot do it?" "I am merely a skeleton who has lived for a very long time, without the power you imagine. His demise was a path he chose for himself; within the mortal realm, there no longer exists any possibility of resurrecting him." Hearing this, the Rose of Decay immediately caught the key phrasing. None in the mortal realm? Meaning it was merely impossible within this plane? "President, please tell me—where is he, truly?" The President spoke slowly, "The soul of a sinner can only descend into Hell."