At the time Agnes and Ellet were forming their bonds as master and pupil, Thesilid was in a place full of crosses, like a cemetery.

A blood-stained, torn white uniform fluttered in the wind. With each breath he took, the air mixed with ashes bitterly filled his lungs.

Suddenly, sparks rose from various places into the dark blue sky.

class dungeon, 'The execution site of living sacrifices'.

On the iron crosses that filled the hillside, silhouettes that looked like human beings hung one by one.

It was a trace that people who got caught up in the dungeon sink had been used as sacrifices in the devil's ritual.

Those victims were heretics.

The Church never gave burial to the dead who were not baptized by 'Strict order and Goodwill.'

The bodies of the victims hanging on the Iron Crosses will flow into the Demon Realm's garbage dump as soon as the dungeon is closed.

In fact, he could have saved them. If only The Vatican had approved the entry into the dungeon a day earlier.

But now, it's nothing but useless regret.

Thesilid closed his eyes. All he could do after lowering his sword was pray for their soul.

Kugugugung!

The white giant monster fell and a cloud of dust rose. Although visibility was not secured for a long time, I put my training whip-sword in its sheath.

A message popped up with the click of the metal parts coming together.

[ Congratulations! You defeated the 275th floor boss of the Tower of Trials, 'The undead Boned-Dragon'.]

I know, right.

Architectisn't it a bit too much to use ten consecutive bosses like this?

['The Troubled Architect of the Tower of Trials' coughs in vain.]

Well, wouldn't the end be almost in sight if even the dead dragon was already revived and recycled as an undead dragon?

I decided to think positively.

Oops.

The bones and dust clouds had just subsided. I went into the ribs of the Undead Dragon and picked up the item.

There's an alchemy material and one skill bookOh, no weapons.

There was even an unintentional spec-up effect. But, I think it's good, right?

Agnes was also impressed.

The other skeletons should come too. You, too, have been in the same body for hundreds of years, so you must be creaking and squealing around.

Clattering! Clattering!

The skeletons that had shining sockets in their skulls, flocked around, chattering about their painful areas.

Helverus immediately went into the interpreter role.

I repeated the process of disassembling the bones one by one, replacing them with new parts, and assembling them.

It felt like being a skeleton's doctor.

['The World-building God' is moved by the appearance of a true healer who heals even the undead.]

['The Scales that Judges the Soul' complains that the unconditional belief in the follower makes her cringe.]

Clattering! Clattering! Clattering!

Really? It feels good to see you happy.

Yes?

I looked back at Helverus without much thought.

The source of this_chapter; elworld.com