Chapter 286: The Mantis Hunts the Cicada, the Underworld Legion Descends!

“Council of the Dead?”

On the top floor of the union headquarters, inside a spacious and solemn office, Lu Yan lightly tapped his fingertip against the polished mahogany desk. His low voice reverberated through the still air.

Standing respectfully at the lower end of the desk was Elizabeth, dressed in a well-tailored black suit. Her long silver hair was neatly coiled at the back of her head.

Upon hearing the name, a hint of surprise flickered across her face. She immediately gave a slight bow and answered with reverence.

“Your Grace, the Council of the Dead is a highly secretive cult dedicated to an evil god. They’ve been active in the Victoria Kingdom for many years.

They worship a hidden existence and follow a supernatural path focused on controlling the dead and manipulating souls—this path is known as the Path of the Dead.”

Lu Yan raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

“Path of the Dead?”

“Then how does this Council of the Dead compare in strength to the Church of the Mother of All?”

Elizabeth chuckled lightly at the question.

“Your Grace, surely you jest. While the Council of the Dead has existed for some time, its sphere of influence is mostly confined within the Victoria Kingdom. At most, there are some scattered traces in neighboring kingdoms.

How could such a small sect possibly compare to the Church of the Mother of All, whose presence stretches across all seven kingdoms?

The so-called Undying King behind the Council of the Dead is, at most, a hidden entity who has partially claimed a divine aspect through some unusual means.

As for the Mother of All, she is a powerful evil god second only to the Seven True Gods. If not for one misstep during the divine war, she might have already seized a divine throne and replaced one of the true deities.

The gap between these two powers is like heaven and earth—utterly incomparable.”

After drawing that contrast, a flash of shrewdness appeared in Elizabeth’s pale violet eyes.

She leaned forward slightly, probing, “Your Grace, for you to suddenly mention the Council of the Dead… could it be that they’ve made some unruly move recently, something that touches upon your interests?”

“Hm. A few ignorant pests seem to have caught a scent and are attempting to track Anna’s movements,” Lu Yan replied calmly, sipping the red tea in his hand without the slightest attempt to conceal the matter.

Within the vast structure of the Workers’ Union, very few knew Anna’s true identity and capabilities. But as the president personally cultivated by Lu Yan, Elizabeth naturally had access to that knowledge.

Since Anna’s advancement to Sequence Eight—Soul Binder—she had begun purging the most irredeemable scum within the workers’ community.

Using her ability to infiltrate dreams and fabricate divine punishments, she wrapped these actions in the guise of holy retribution, thereby sowing fear and reverence among the lower classes. Her goal was to establish an order beyond the constraints of law and morality.

After all, in those chaotic slums, law was powerless, and morality was a luxury.

Only faith and fear could serve as the most direct and effective deterrents.

As more and more criminals began dying in strange and inexplicable ways, and with dream-guided rumors and orchestrated public opinion fanning the flames, the masses began to worship this punishing holy spirit with fanaticism.

As a result, Anna quickly amassed an impressive quantity of devout faith.

Ordinarily, such a large-scale collection of belief would draw the intervention—or even suppression—of the true gods’ churches.

However, after Lu Yan’s prior conversation with Saint Xien, the upper echelon of the Church of Steam grew wary and opted to take a step back. They tacitly permitted Anna’s little tricks among the working class.

At this stage, all that faith was being temporarily funneled into Anna herself.

Once the time was right and she formally proclaimed the name of the Underworld, redirecting the worship from the holy spirit to its true source, all the accumulated belief would flood into the Divine Court of the Underworld like a dam bursting.

Still, while the Church might have allowed this, it was far from the only force in this supernatural world.

So, Lu Yan had long made preparations. He sent wandering souls born from the Underworld to lurk in the shadows of major industrial zones.

These souls not only assisted Anna in spreading dream visions but also monitored any abnormal activities. The spies of the Council of the Dead planted in the police bureau were discovered as a result of this surveillance.

Hearing Lu Yan mention Anna, Elizabeth instantly grasped the gravity of the situation.

Though her contact with Anna was limited, she had a strong impression of her Underworld Path—especially upon learning that this Path had been created by Lu Yan himself, which made her all the more cautious.

Now that the Council of the Dead had targeted Anna, her expression turned serious as she asked in a low voice, “Your Grace, the Church of Steam has long pursued members of the Council of the Dead.

Now that they’ve delivered themselves to our doorstep, should we report this to the Church and use their power to wipe out these cultists?

That way, we could eliminate the threat and earn goodwill from the Church.”

Lu Yan merely cast her a flat glance, then gently shook his head, his tone brooking no argument.

“No need to alert the Church of Steam.”

The Council of the Dead had set their eyes on Anna only because they coveted the faith power she had gathered, viewing her as a fat prize ripe for the taking.

If Lu Yan couldn’t handle something like this himself and had to run to the Church for help, that would be no different from showing his weakness and exposing his hand.

The Church of Steam had only backed off because of their suspicion that Lu Yan might be backed by none other than the Emperor of the Underworld.

If they learned that he couldn’t even handle a mere Council of the Dead, that fear would vanish completely.

And once that happened, the Church of Steam would be the first to strike against the Union.

Lu Yan’s lips curled into a faint, chilling smile as his gaze pierced through the walls of the office, settling on the distant Steam Cathedral—a symbol of divine authority and mechanical supremacy. His voice turned even deeper.

“Besides, who’s to say the Church of Steam isn’t the one behind all this, testing the waters in secret?”

---

Orank District, Cemetery Zone.

This area on the city’s outskirts was littered with cold tombstones and resting corpses. Beneath the surface, it had long been hollowed out and turned into an expansive underground city—the hidden stronghold of the Council of the Dead.

At this moment, deep within the core of the underground city, in the Grand Tomb Hall, pale green ghostfire flickered within wall crevices, casting eerie light on countless orderly bones and stone coffins.

At the center stood a tall, middle-aged man cloaked entirely in a voluminous black robe. He listened quietly as a spy from the police bureau relayed his report.

However, upon hearing that the so-called holy spirit was only a Sequence Eight, the robed man’s eyes didn’t flash with glee or greed as expected, but instead darkened with contemplation and doubt.

“Are you absolutely certain,” he asked in a hoarse voice like wind whistling through a crypt, “that this holy spirit is merely a low-level Sequence Eight?”

“Yes, Councillor! Without a doubt!” The spy quickly bowed, his tone urgent and insistent. “I used the Eye of Whispers to directly extract the memory remnants from the soul-stripped corpse. There’s no room for falsehood!”

Despite the repeated assurances, the Councilor remained hesitant.

As a high-ranking member of the Council, he had dealt with the Church of Steam countless times and knew their methods and vigilance like the back of his hand.

Any evil god cult operating in the Victoria Kingdom had only two options: conduct clandestine activities in remote areas where the Church’s presence was weak, or spread their influence in secret among nobles and tycoons seeking forbidden powers.

But the Ornn Steelworks Industrial Zone? That was the heart of the kingdom—a heavily monitored, tightly controlled area. With so many workers and so much potential for faith, the Church watched it like a hawk.

For someone to dare spread heresy and fabricate divine miracles there, in such a high-profile and flagrant manner, they should’ve been sniffed out and purged by the Church’s rabid Inquisition hounds the moment they made a move.

Yet Anna, the so-called holy spirit, remained untouched—and she’d even stirred up such a commotion that the workers were openly discussing her.

That alone reeked of something very, very wrong.

Sure, a Sequence Eight Soul Binder made for an exceptional sacrificial offering, filled with pure soul energy and concentrated belief—but the Councilor’s years of survival against the true gods had honed his instincts.

He suppressed his desire and gave a grave order.

“We’ll shelve this matter… for now.

Any case involving abnormal behavior from the Church of Steam demands caution. Wait for the Speaker to awaken from his slumber before deciding further.”

What he didn’t know was that this very caution had caused ripples far away—in the depths of the Steam Cathedral.

Beneath the grand temple, in the dreaded headquarters of the Inquisition, a dozen armored knights stood solemn and motionless in a chamber brimming with sacred runes and precision machinery.

Before them were two old men in crimson archbishop robes, all eyes fixed on a massive floating scrying mirror.

Inside, the Grand Tomb Hall of the Council of the Dead was clearly reflected, showing every word of the conversation that had just taken place.

The Church of Steam had ruled Victoria for millennia. Its roots were deep, its power unimaginable.

In contrast, the Council of the Dead was a mere upstart—barely a few thousand years old.

Would the Church really allow a full-blown cult to thrive unnoticed for so long?

Of course not.

Just as Lu Yan had suspected, the Council of the Dead had long been a tool—deliberately indulged, even cultivated by the Inquisition.

They served as whetstones, refining the faith and martial prowess of the Church’s warriors.

They also provided the perfect excuse for “cleansing” any region or power that displeased the Church, all under the pretense of purging heresy.

Ever since Saint Xien returned with reports of Lu Yan—and the mysterious Emperor of the Underworld—the Church had grown wary and opted for temporary restraint.

But that decision had stirred fierce resentment among the hardliners of the Inquisition.

The Inquisition was composed of the most zealous extremists in the Church, utterly intolerant of any rival faith. Anna’s emergence, her rapid spread as a holy spirit, made them seethe with fury.

Eventually, they decided to take a gamble.

They covertly leaked information about Anna to the Council of the Dead—hoping to use this dark faction as a blade to test Lu Yan’s bottom line.

“Hmph. The Council of the Dead may be a bunch of sewer rats, but their Speaker and their so-called Undying King are both ancient monsters—each with a fairly high Sequence. Good enough for testing the waters,” grunted a burly knight bearing a cross-shaped scar.

“But those rats are too cautious. Such a golden opportunity, and they chose to let it pass.”

“Should we create more ‘accidents’? Leak juicier intel? Force a confrontation between the Council and the holy spirit?” another knight asked eagerly.

But the crimson-robed archbishop raised a hand to halt him.

“No. We’ve already concealed our tracks carefully. If we leave behind a single clue and it gets traced back to us…

And if that Emperor of the Underworld truly exists and possesses unimaginable power…

No one here can afford the consequences.”

Silence fell upon the hall.

Then, the Inquisitor General seated at the highest seat slowly opened his eyes. Like molten furnaces, they swept across the room.

“Continue monitoring the Council’s movements. But no more probing, no further manipulation.

Be patient. We’ll strike when the time is right.”

“Yes, Inquisitor General.”

Though regret hung heavily on their faces, none dared defy the order.

And yet, just as the Inquisition suspended their plans…

A sudden mutation erupted beneath the Orank Cemetery!

Without warning, the air in the Grand Tomb Hall cracked like shattered glass—a pitch-black spatial rift burst open.

A figure clad in dark armor, wielding shackles, stepped through the rift and appeared in the tomb.

The aura it emitted was unmistakably Sequence Six.

“Hm?”

The Councilor’s pupils shrank as he instantly went into high alert, death energy flooding around him.

He spun toward the stunned spy, landing a loud slap across his face.

“Idiot! You led them straight to our lair and didn’t even notice!”

But even after his rage, the Councilor showed no panic. Instead, he sneered coldly.

“Heh… A mere Sequence Six dares barge into our Grand Tomb Hall?

Have we been quiet so long that even mangy mutts think they can trample us?”

Black mist surged around him as he prepared to strike—

And then froze.

Because more rifts began to tear open all around the hall, like a spreading web.

From them marched figure after figure, each clad in uniform death armor, armed with standardized weapons, all radiating the same stable Sequence Six aura.

One… ten… a hundred… a thousand…

In the blink of an eye, thousands of Sequence Six Yin Soldiers flooded the Grand Tomb Hall. Silent and uniform, their cold gazes locked onto the Councilor and the trembling spy.

Each one radiated unmistakable supernatural power.

The sneer on the Councilor’s face stiffened.

Replaced by a bone-deep, uncontrollable terror.

Sequence Six! Thousands of them!

He knew all too well what that meant.

In this mysterious world, transcendent power was finite. The Law of Aggregation meant high-Sequences were rare.

If a supernatural path had a few dozen Sequence Sixes, it was already considered a major faction.

Even among the Seven True Gods’ churches, with billions of followers, the actual number of Sequence Six or higher elites barely reached a few thousand.

And yet these soldiers—just soldiers—already matched the full high-end combat force of a top-tier church.

How was this possible?

Meanwhile, back in the Inquisition beneath the Steam Cathedral, the observers watching through the mirror were dead silent.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, faces filled with disbelief and dread.

The Yin Soldiers that descended without warning—thousands of them, each carrying the pressure of the Divine Court of the Underworld—were enough to make even these hardened veterans feel suffocated.

Though individually they weren’t a threat to red-cloaked archbishops or inquisitors, their sheer number defied the rules of this world.

And behind the rifts, more terrifying auras loomed—ready to descend at any moment.

A legion like this… could overturn an entire war.

Could wipe out a mid-tier kingdom.

“So… this is the power of the Underworld…?”

A knight muttered in dazed disbelief, his voice heavy with dread.

And in that moment, all of their previous calculations and schemes began to waver.

(End of Chapter)