Chapter Seven: Refining Skeletons with the Method of Demon-Refining Treasures

“Brian, everyone says you’re crazy, and I never believed it—now even I do. You’re truly—insane!” Jack twisted his chubby neck, shaking his head in despair as he saw Han Shuo’s infatuated expression and heard his bold claim about winning over Vanny.

“Hey, those are the pastries Buck brought to please Lisa. Ha, our luck is incredible! I’ve never tasted the exquisite food of nobles before!” Noticing Buck leave in a hurry and abandon those pastries, Han Shuo dashed over, grabbed the two ornate pastry boxes without a second thought, and began devouring them.

As he ate, he couldn’t help but praise, “Tsk tsk, truly delicious! That fight wasn’t in vain after all. Here, I borrowed half a loaf of bread from you earlier—now I’m repaying you with a box of fine pastries. You’ve hit the jackpot!”

“But those are Buck’s…” “He got beaten by me—now they’re mine!”

Jack: “…”

At that moment, Han Shuo himself felt a bit strange. Since arriving on the Continent of Chia, his appetite had grown as a result of practicing demonic arts, and his personality seemed to have become bolder. Things he used to fear doing, he now did without hesitation—and with increasing confidence.

“Brian, Jack, you two should be cleaning inside the laboratory right now. You still haven’t finished wiping the statues? If we end up punished because of this, you two are done for!”

Just as Han Shuo and Jack finished the exquisite pastries and sang their praises, two older attendants approached from behind, broomsticks in hand, shouting at them to hurry into the laboratory to clean.

These two were Borg and Carey, both over twenty, standing taller than one seventy. Over the years, they’d lorded their strength over Brian and Jack, often bullying them and shoving their own chores onto them—like cleaning the laboratory, which should have been their responsibility.

“Not going!” Han Shuo didn’t even acknowledge them. He’d long wanted to stop doing their work. Now, feeling sturdier after his recent fight with Buck, his confidence soared. He thought, having just eaten, his stomach was a bit bloated; if the two didn’t back off, another scuffle would help digestion.

“Ha, not going? Brian, have you really lost your mind, daring to ignore Lord Borg’s orders? Want me to knock you back to your senses?” Borg clenched his right fist, glaring at Han Shuo with a cold smile.

“Ah, my head hurts!” Han Shuo clutched his head, crouching and trembling in apparent agony. Jack, who’d been about to obey and clean the lab, saw Han Shuo’s act and paused, watching expectantly.

“Whether you’re really mad or just faking, if you don’t listen, I’ll beat you till you do!” Carey, whose temper was even worse, strode over and kicked at Han Shuo’s crouched figure.

At that moment, Han Shuo suddenly sprang up with a shout, and Carey’s kick landed squarely on Han Shuo’s chest. Han Shuo cried out, then grabbed Carey’s leg with both hands, lifting forcefully. Carey yelped and tumbled sideways, crashing into another statue and grimacing in pain.

Borg, seeing Carey rush Han Shuo, smiled, thinking Han Shuo had brought this upon himself. But it turned out Carey suffered more from the altercation.

“Well, Brian, you dared to fight back! Borg, let’s take him together—teach him a lesson today!” Carey, still groaning, scrambled up and charged Han Shuo again, calling for Borg’s help.

I dared to fight Buck—what are you two idiots compared to that? Han Shuo kept up his act, clutching his head and feigning pain, but a cold, ruthless smile crept onto his lips.

As Carey and Borg closed in, Han Shuo wailed and flailed his limbs. Though he took a few hits, so did Carey and Borg, thanks to Han Shuo’s wild thrashing.

Han Shuo was used to being beaten, and with his demonic energy now enhancing his body, he could easily withstand their blows. His stamina improved, and as his fists flew, Carey and Borg’s faces grew bruised and battered, looking far worse than Han Shuo.

The three attendants brawled at the street corner, with no technique or order. Eventually, Carey and Borg grew sore and weak, while Han Shuo felt only mild discomfort—almost pleasant, as if he had endless energy. He grew more exhilarated, and soon was chasing Carey and Borg, who finally fled in panic.

“Ha, that was exhilarating! Jack, from now on, we don’t have to do Carey and Borg’s chores. If they dare bully you again, just tell me—I’ll beat them into submission!”

Jack gazed at Han Shuo with admiration, laughing, “Brian, you’re amazing! You actually drove Carey and Borg off by yourself—how did you do it?”

Pointing to his chest, Han Shuo boasted, “Because I have a brave heart!”

In the days that followed, Han Shuo’s headaches never returned. For reasons unknown, Buck didn’t seek revenge, and Han Shuo and Jack refused to do Carey and Borg’s work. Having failed to defeat Han Shuo last time, Carey and Borg had no grounds to complain, and dutifully performed their own tasks.

Now, with the little skeleton helping to take out the trash in the mornings and no extra chores from Carey and Borg, Han Shuo suddenly found himself much more at ease. He no longer had Jack “borrow” any more magic books, instead focusing on studying the Basics of Necromancy, determined to build a solid foundation.

Through careful study, Han Shuo realized his mental strength was extremely weak. Every day, upon returning to the cabin, he would meditate, focusing his mind. The little skeleton, the weakest dark creature from another dimension, possessed only rudimentary intelligence and followed the summoner’s commands. Under Han Shuo’s orders, it stayed in the cabin during the day and only went out at night to dispose of garbage.

That evening, as Han Shuo returned to his cabin, ready for his usual meditation, he suddenly recalled the arcane knowledge left in his mind by the eccentric Chu Canglan, concerning the refinement of magical artifacts. He mused that his demonic cultivation and his current study of necromancy, though from different worlds, both followed sinister paths and seemed similar—perhaps they could be combined.

Han Shuo began to recall that inherited memory, but much of it was vague, as though viewed through a thin, blurry veil, making it impossible to see clearly.

After a long effort, he suddenly remembered a method for refining magical artifacts. Since his necromancy was still rudimentary—he’d only managed to summon a weak skeleton—he decided to use the little skeleton as a test subject.

The first requirement for refining an artifact was materials. Since this was just an experiment, Han Shuo used the little skeleton as the main material. He gathered some useless blood from low-level magical beasts, bone powder, lizard tails, and other discarded items from the supply room as auxiliary materials.

Some special magical artifacts required extremely rare and complex materials, which might not even exist in this world. Han Shuo didn’t care; he improvised everything, taking a small unused bucket from the laboratory, adding some leftover necromancy ingredients whose names he couldn’t recall.

Under cover of night, Han Shuo sneaked back to his cabin. After carefully closing the door, he placed the bucket down, put the little skeleton inside, then tossed in assorted beast blood, bone powder, lizard tails, and other materials. He poured in a bucket of water, mixing everything into a garish, unsightly mess. The little skeleton’s skull poked out, bewildered.

Closing his eyes, Han Shuo spent some time reviewing Chu Canglan’s knowledge. Refining magical artifacts required not only materials, but also special formations and the practitioner’s demonic energy, following particular methods for days or months—some powerful artifacts even took years.

Of course, Han Shuo couldn’t perform such advanced methods. He chose the simplest approach, finding seven white, unknown bone spines from the supply room, and arranged them in the bucket according to the “Shadow Demon Condensation Array.”

The “Shadow Demon Condensation Array” was a demonic formation from Chu Canglan’s memories. The proper method was to refine seven personal “shadow demons,” place them in the formation, and inject the practitioner’s demonic energy. The demons would concentrate the energy within the array, gradually dissolving the materials and infusing them into the main subject over thirty-six days—completing the artifact.

To refine “shadow demons,” one must start with “shadow spirits”—the soul of a wronged person buried in a place of absolute darkness, unwilling to depart, might become a “shadow spirit.” Turning that into a “shadow demon” required special techniques Han Shuo didn’t possess.

He simply used seven bone spines as substitutes, arranged in the bucket, then concentrated his demonic energy in his right middle finger and thrust it into the center of the array. Though the bone spines were mere substitutes, the arrangement was correct and absorbed some demonic energy.

After some time, seven tiny whirlpools suddenly appeared in the water, centered around the bone spines.

Seeing this, Han Shuo relaxed. His haphazard experiment had actually produced results. Though he didn’t know what the little skeleton would become, he was reassured. He meditated briefly and soon drifted into sleep.