Dungeon King: A Lady Knight Offered by My Goblins

Ethan gazed at the re-energized, gold-embossed skull emblem in his palm, his face breaking into a smile. 

The blessing of the Supreme Deity was equivalent to a full-force strike from a deity. 

Such a peerless and potent move was unique, something that would never be replicated. 

With this powerful ability by his side, Ethan could now wholeheartedly pursue the path of the deity.

Bogart slowly appeared beside Ethan: “Well done, your strength is indeed remarkable.”

Ethan didn’t respond to Bogart; instead, he looked around the dark surroundings and asked softly, “Where is this?”

“This is the abode of the Lord of Wraith,” Bogart spoke in a deep, echoing voice, energy radiating from his hand, illuminating the entire space.

The grandeur of the hall was revealed. 

A massive altar, its flames eternally burning, brightened the entire temple. 

Surrounding the altar were ancient murals, depicting the grand deeds of the God of Wraith and the devout faith of his followers.

In the deepest part of the temple stood a colossal statue, an embodiment of the God of Wraith. 

Clad in a black robe, crowned, and holding a scepter, his face was stern and commanding. 

His eyes, brimming with mana, were so intense they seemed almost unbearable to look directly into.

As Ethan shifted his gaze to the walls, a sense of oddity filled his heart. 

The walls were adorned with skeletons and bones, as if narrating the eternity of death. 

In the darkness, the pale blue flames flickered, casting light around the statue.

The statue itself, composed of countless bones, had eyes that sparkled with a strange light, as if they could see into the depths of one’s soul. 

Though these statues were of skeletons, spirits, or even engulfed in pale blue flames, Ethan felt no sense of eeriness or terror.

The temple was sanctified, radiant, filled with the will of death, or perhaps the essence of life.

The Lord of Wraith might always embody such a paradox. 

As Law explained, it exists in a state neither living nor dead. 

The Lord of Wraith is a confluence of contradictions, where life and death eternally compose the arias sung by Wraiths and the poignant symphonies played by the Lord himself.

Looking up from the altar, there stands a massive throne. 

Ethan saw the true form of this throne for the first time. 

Constructed from black skeletons and bones, it exuded a profound aura of death. 

Its design was unique, resembling a giant skull with two hollow eyes that flickered with a sinister red light, sending shivers down the spine.

The arms and back of the throne were made of fractured bone scythes and bone knives, their sharp edges gleaming coldly, as if ready to sever any life daring to approach. 

Around the throne were various malevolent artifacts like soul bottles and bone boxes, radiating a chilling aura that felt suffocating.

Below the throne lay a colossal sarcophagus, rumored to house the soul of the God of Wraith. 

Countless skeletons and Wraiths knelt before it, as if beseeching the Lord of Wraith’s blessings.

Behind the throne stood statues of enormous Wraith giants, shrouded in darkness, their features obscured. 

Yet the power they emanated was staggering.

Bogart, sensing Ethan’s awe, called out in a sonorous voice: “This is the preaching ground of the Supreme Deity, the land of His faith.”

Ethan blinked, a sense of wonder emanating from deep within: “Truly astonishing!”

Bogart looked at Ethan, his eyes sparkling: “My lord, from this day forward, this place belongs to you.”

As he spoke, Bogart took the Grip of the Underworld and presented it before Ethan with both hands.

Ethan, moved by a sudden impulse, reached out and placed his hand upon the Grip of the Underworld. 

Abruptly, a dazzling beam of light surged upwards from the altar, piercing the heavens. 

The Grip of the Underworld, as if awakened, emitted a deafening roar and broke free from Ethan’s grasp, ascending into the beam of energy in the sky.

The air around instantly became searing and tense, as if the entire world trembled in anticipation of this moment. 

The energy from the altar enveloped the Grip of the Underworld, which trembled incessantly, absorbing the formidable energy.

The whole world vibrated, with thunderous roars echoing across the sky. 

It was at this moment that Ethan approached the altar. 

His gaze was resolute, his stature proud, resembling an emissary sent by the deity himself. 

Reaching out to touch the divine artifact, a surge of tremendous power instantly flooded his body.

Eerie syllables whispered in Ethan’s ears, familiar to his heart. I think you should take a look at

They were the language of the Wraiths, as recorded in the sacred texts of the Wraith Cult. 

It was as though thousands of Wraiths were speaking, whispering in his ears, sharing their desires and prayers.

Holding the Grip of the Underworld, Ethan felt the will of the divine artifact and understood its mission. 

The Lord of Wraith was not just a figure of immense power. 

He was also the master of the Wraiths, bound to fulfill their wishes and offer assistance…

Guided by the Grip of the Underworld, Ethan took his place upon the throne. 

The towering throne enveloped him completely. 

For a moment, Ethan felt imbued with power, as if he had ascended to deity status. 

His gaze was commanding, his eyes ablaze with golden light, as if a deity had descended upon the world.

The whispers of the Wraiths in Ethan’s ears grew more intense, like rolling thunder. 

Ethan felt as if his soul might shatter under the weight of their clamorous voices.

The system’s voice resonated: “Congratulations to the host for mastering [Wraith Apocalypse Curse].”

[Wraith Apocalypse Curse: In the depths of darkness, I awaken your presence, oh Wraith. Arise from your slumber, heed my call, obey my command. Unleash your destruction upon this world. The breath of death permeates the air, living beings succumb to fear and despair, endless agony torments their hearts until the final realization dawns. The sky turns blood-red, the earth quakes, flames consume all traces of life, rivers run dry, mountains collapse – this marks the beginning of the Wraith’s apocalypse.]

The system’s voice faded, and the low murmurs of the Wraiths gradually disappeared. 

Ethan returned to his normal state, the recent events feeling like a dream. 

Bogart hurried to Ethan’s side, kneeling respectfully: “My lord, have you inherited the Apocalypse Curse?”

A flash of golden light flickered and vanished in Ethan’s eyes, the incantation of the Wraith Apocalypse Curse etched deep in his heart: “Indeed.”

Joy surged in Bogart’s heart as he excitedly said: “Congratulations, my lord, for being fully recognized by the Grip of the Underworld.”

“The Wraith Apocalypse Curse was given to me by the Grip of the Underworld?” 

“Of course, you learned the Wraith Forbidden Spell in the library, enabling you to summon Wraiths from their abyss, even across different planes. But that isn’t the Supreme Deity’s most powerful technique. The most formidable is the Apocalypse Curse. Only by mastering the Apocalypse Curse can you truly be called my lord!”

Ethan had an epiphany, recalling the cacophony of Wraith whispers that had filled his ears. 

That must have been the process of the Grip of the Underworld transmitting the apocalypse curse. 

Given such a challenging inheritance, it’s no wonder that the Lord of Wraith had no successors. 

Without the system’s assistance, Ethan realized, he would never have been able to complete this ultimate test. It was incredibly difficult!

Curious, Ethan asked, “What’s the difference between the Apocalypse Curse and the Forbidden Spell?”

Bogart’s lips curled slightly, a fervent look appearing on his weathered face: “My lord, the Forbidden Spell, as you have used, can only summon Wraiths from other planes. But the Apocalypse Curse kills all living beings, turning their Wraiths into your warriors.”

“Apocalypse Curse, once unleashed, signifies the destruction of the world.”

Ethan thought of the Ancient Deity Aneropo, who had been slumbering within his flame essence for ages. 

When he had battled Aneropo, the deity had also possessed the Apocalypse Curse.

“Does every deity have an Apocalypse Curse?” Ethan asked curiously.

“Of course,” Bogart replied. “The power of deities is immense. 

When they concentrate their thoughts to create a secret art, it’s enough to destroy the world. 

Battles between deities often return to their primal essence, hence the use of world-ending techniques.”

Bogart clearly regarded Ethan as his master now, speaking openly without any reserve.

Ethan, looking at the divine artifact in his hand, already felt its will. 

However, the will of the Grip of the Underworld seemed to be slumbering. 

Even as Ethan used the Power of Soul to caress it, attempting to awaken its will, he couldn’t succeed.

“Why can’t I awaken the will of the Grip of the Underworld?”

Bogart’s lips twitched slightly, and he spoke with a hint of embarrassment: “My lord, although the Grip of the Underworld has recognized you, your current strength is too weak to necessitate the use of its will. Naturally, it…”

Bogart didn’t finish his sentence, but Ethan understood the implication. 

It was as if the will of the Grip of the Underworld was not granting him enough respect!

Ethan’s lips curved slightly, caressing the Grip of the Underworld: “It seems to have quite a temperament. Let’s leave it be for now. Tell me about the Wraith Cult.”

A light flickered in Bogart’s eyes, reflecting the passage of time. 

Ethan understood that the Wraith Cult had a long and ancient lineage, so Bogart’s reminiscent expression was to be expected.

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