Chapter 443 – Zombie Death Servants

Chapter 443 – Zombie Death Servants

After dinner, Lilith, Vasida, and Sylph didn’t linger long either, departing immediately to attend to their own tasks.

The whole purpose of setting up camp here was to create death servants and cultivate mutant blackdeath trees.

Now that Mo Lan’s death servant was finished, it was up to the three of them, and they couldn’t afford to dawdle any longer.

Mo Lan, on the other hand, was in no rush—she had plenty of things to do.

The Grimoire was full of books she hadn’t read yet. She still needed to practice magic daily, review new materials uploaded by the witches, design cards, and plan ahead for the contractor organization she would begin establishing once they reached the Duchy of Lance.

She also had to set aside half an hour every day to teach Zhizhi and the little skeleton the common language.

Otherwise, relying on the two of them gesturing back and forth at each other like a chicken talking to a duck, the efficiency was too abysmal to watch.

Now that the little skeleton was finished, Mo Lan was actually busier than before. For many days, she didn’t even step outside her tent except for meals.

Vasida and Lilith quickly finished practicing on the zombies, gave them new bodies, and then returned to begin formally crafting their own zombie death servants.

With the prior hands-on experience under their belts, making their own zombies went much more smoothly now.

Cutting open the torso, hollowing out the organs, brushing on preservative oil, stuffing in preservative herbs, suturing, brushing on more preservative oil, air-drying, brushing on various magical potions… Once the entire corpse’s condition had stabilized and would no longer decay with the passage of time, they used the Death Servant spell to bind the corpse, guided Death Force to spread throughout the body, and the zombie death servant was complete.

When Mo Lan and Sylph were invited to come see the two zombie death servants they had just finished crafting, they looked at one, then the other, and had absolutely no idea what to say.

Vasida’s death servant “Spicy Hotpot” had a fit and toned physique with well-proportioned muscles. Every inch of skin was a perfect grayish-white, without a single lividity mark.

Its face was even more perfect—each feature looked beautiful on its own, and together they were even more stunning.

Its eyes weren’t like those of an ordinary zombie, bloodshot or mottled with lividity marks and murky beyond recognition.

Its irises were a pale gray, its gaze unfocused yet carrying a sense of cold detachment.

Its black hair was soft and flowing, every strand clean and free of dust.

To showcase her death servant, Vasida had “Spicy Hotpot” stand there completely bare from the start, like a perfect human sculpture.

After a while, once she dressed it in the formal attire of a human noble, it didn’t look like a zombie at all anymore—it truly resembled a refined and handsome aristocrat.

Lilith’s death servant “Nick” was the exact opposite. Nick’s physique had reached the limits of an ordinary human—tall, brawny, and muscular, clad in metal armor, with a massive hammer in its left hand and a heavy axe in its right.

But its skin was rough, and the lividity marks and suture lines were completely unconcealed.

Its eyeballs were dim and cloudy, its hair dry, tangled, and streaked with bloodstains.

The whole thing looked like a battle-hardened, unkempt warrior.

“So? Isn’t Nick handsome?” Lilith said.

“My Spicy Hotpot is the handsome one!” Vasida retorted.

The two of them were clearly very satisfied with their own death servants. They argued back and forth, each insisting their death servant was the most handsome. Finally, they turned to Mo Lan and Sylph together: “Which of our death servants do you think is more handsome?”

Mo Lan chose to stroke the smooth, rounded skull of the little skeleton beside her and said, “Clack is the most handsome!”

The two of them turned their gazes to Sylph.

“I forgot to feed the blackdeath tree its corpse today—I’ll take my leave first!” Sylph fled in a panic.

Mo Lan sensed trouble and was about to run too, but Vasida and Lilith grabbed her arms from both sides. In the end, she pushed her emotional intelligence to its absolute limit and said, “From the perspective of a companion, Spicy Hotpot is the most handsome. From the perspective of a combat-type death servant, Nick is the most handsome. And from the perspective of a non-combat-type death servant, my Clack is the best.”

“Tch~ Your little skeleton is tiny! It can’t do anything!” Lilith said. “My Nick is the most handsome one!”

“No trash-talking allowed!” Mo Lan said. To prevent this inexplicable topic from continuing, she asked them, “Low-level zombies have low spiritual intelligence and only have combat instincts. How’s their combat ability? Why not have them spar?”

Lilith and Vasida exchanged a glance, their expressions extremely odd.

“What’s wrong?” Mo Lan asked curiously.

“Right now they can only understand two commands: attack and retreat,” Lilith said.

“And ‘attack’ means they just swing whatever weapon they’re holding wildly with no technique, while ‘retreat’ means they stop attacking and step back,” Vasida added.

The two demonstrated, issuing their commands.

The “refined aristocrat” drew its saber and began jabbing it at the “unkempt warrior” with clumsy stabs.

The “unkempt warrior” picked up its great hammer and started hammering away at the “refined aristocrat” with wild swings.

One’s attack motions looked like stabbing a voodoo doll, while the other’s looked like playing whack-a-mole.

This was combat? It was more like two idiots having a slap fight.

Mo Lan couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha! Looks like they’ve still got a long way to go before they’re ready for the battlefield!”

Lilith and Vasida felt even more deflated.

“Now I understand why necromancer witches always make a huge batch of death servants in the early stages to win through sheer numbers!” Lilith said.

Materials were probably only one reason—the bigger factor was likely that death servants were just too stupid when first created!

Teaching one death servant took the same effort as teaching a whole group, and the latter yielded better returns.

“I also understand now why my mother wrote in her book that raising a death servant is an extremely long process—creating the death servant is only the beginning!” Vasida sighed.

“Feed them more soul essence. They don’t seem very bright,” Mo Lan suggested. “There are plenty of zombies around here—have them help you drill your troops!”

“Oh right!” Lilith looked at Vasida. “Let’s take them into the Black Forest! Those free-roaming death servants seem pretty smart and capable fighters. Experience has to be gained through practice. We’ll follow behind and watch secretly, and if they get hurt, we’ll just pick them up and repair them!”

“Let’s do it!” Vasida said.

The two hit it off immediately. Lilith pulled out the flying carpet, loaded Vasida on, and flew straight out of the graveyard.

“I meant you should have Lady Ginia’s death servants run drills with them first, not toss your death servants straight into the wilderness for field training!” Mo Lan said helplessly.

“It’s fine! The wilderness is better for tempering death servants!” Lilith called back.

The flying carpet rose into the air and vanished into the gray mist in the blink of an eye.

Mo Lan: “…”

She genuinely worried that Spicy Hotpot and Nick—two death servants who looked like they couldn’t even control their own limbs properly yet, but whose bodies were still perfectly intact—would get ganged up on out in the wild.

After all, the free-roaming zombies and skeletons out there were in dire need of replacement limbs!

Sending them out there was like a child carrying gold into a den of thieves.

“Oh well. Lilith and Vasida are following along—they’ll step in if anything happens.”

With that thought, she put her mind at ease.