GLOBAL LORDS: HUNDREDFOLD INCREMENTS STARTING WITH THE UNDEAD

Chapter 1109: Chapter 715, Who Lives and Who Dies

In the midst of earth-shaking tremors.

The White Veil Queen finally came to a halt in mid-air.

Several heroes exchanged glances and immediately drew their weapons from their belts, quickly approaching the deck’s railing and peering below.

What they saw was no longer a calm ocean surface.

Instead, the deck was caked in mud and covered with various marine life.

The deck was strewn with flopping fish alongside bewildered undead creatures who had also been elevated from the sea.

Swarms of Skeleton Giant Fish flapped incessantly, their skeletal tails smacking the deck with resounding slaps.

The Skeleton Wyrm Guardians were equally perplexed, surveying their surroundings with confusion.

Moments ago, they had been in the ocean—how did they suddenly appear on land?

At that moment, Fang Hao emerged from one of the nearby structures.

He caught sight of the White Veil Queen resting on the deck and froze in astonishment.

“Damn it! Who parked the ship on the deck?”

Before he could voice his confusion, Anjia’s jubilant cheers rang out.

“Fang Hao! Fang Hao… Is this the sunken ship you were talking about?” Anjia called out from afar.

“Yes.”

“Awesome!” Then she glanced at Lorrey to her side. “You lost.”

Lorrey widened her eyes in disbelief, staring at the massive ship below.

What kind of ship is this? It’s more like a city drifting on the ocean!

No, it’d be more accurate to call this a ruin.

Gigantic as it was, the ship’s current state was undeniably miserable.

Upon hearing Anjia’s remark, Lorrey crossed her arms and retorted defiantly, “Fine, I lost. Besides, we didn’t bet on anything specific.”

“What do you mean we didn’t? You did say so.”

“I didn’t say such a thing!”

…

Crash!!

The sound of water breaking erupted.

Silhouettes emerged one after another from the ocean, leaping onto the massive ship’s deck.

It was the Fishmen leader and his retinue who had been following closely behind.

“How did you manage to do it? You actually made it float,” the Fishmen leader exclaimed in astonishment.

Fang Hao smiled and replied, “Some special abilities—it’s not something easy to explain.”

“It must be divine power. The Priest was right—God is watching over you,” the Fishmen leader said excitedly.

Fang Hao smiled faintly, choosing not to elaborate on such matters but instead said, “Well, I’ll take this ship with me. I’ll return in two days with the purple set you asked for.”

“Agreed. When you come back, if it’s the old ship, blow the conch I gave you. But for this ship, there’s no need—I’ll issue orders to let you pass.”

The ship was distinctive enough that anyone who saw it could immediately recognize Fang Hao’s identity.

“Alright.”

The Fishmen leader said no more, giving the colossal vessel one last glance before diving back into the ocean with his followers.

They vanished.

…

The Fishmen hero had left.

Fang Hao opened the Book of Lords to review the ship’s condition.

Though it was afloat.

For now, it resembled little more than a ruin.

*[Steering Room Repair: Hardwood 782, Cast Iron Blocks 224, Copper Blocks 71, Mithril 11, Metal Components 178, Precision Parts 79, Finished Helm 1.]*

*[Meeting Hall Repair: Hardwood 850, Stone Bricks 552, Fine Stone Bricks 371, Cast Iron Blocks 127, Metal Components 78.]*

*[Main Mast Repair: Ironized Wood 122, Iron Plates 220, White Steel Plates 181, Metal Components 120.]*

*[Secondary Mast Repair: …….]*

*[Armory Repair: ……]*

Line after line detailing the necessary repairs appeared in the notifications.

It seemed even though rebuilding would require fewer materials, the sheer volume was overwhelming.

Fang Hao kept scrolling downward.

One particular repair caught his attention.

*[Magical Energy Supply Room Repair: Iron 171, Cast Iron Blocks 78, Copper Ingots 27, Precision Parts 121, Magical Energy Essence 3.]*

The Supply Room appeared to house equipment that provided propulsion to the ship.

For such a massive vessel, relying solely on sails was undoubtedly impractical.

After thoroughly inspecting its various sections.

Fang Hao experimented with the teleportation screen.

One thing was certain: this enormous ship could act as a viable teleportation destination.

As long as he activated the screen, it could take him directly to the castle hall.

“Gulrukubagu!” Fang Hao shouted.

The ancient blood god servant emerged from the sea, landing on the deck with a resounding thud.

The massive ship was more than sturdy enough to withstand the servant’s weight and size.

“My lord, your orders.”

“This ship is ours now. Take the Skeleton soldiers and clean it up,” Fang Hao instructed.

The undead heroes had no physical burdens.

Additionally, the ship couldn’t yet be sailed back to port, so it would remain here as a temporary teleportation hub.

Using it as such would allow easy access whenever needed.

In the Fishmen’s waters, there was little danger of any threats arising.

Neither the Federation nor the Sea Tribe dared venture near.

“Understood, my lord. We’ll require some tools from you,” Gulrukubagu replied.

Fang Hao nodded, storing the treasures swapped with the Sea Tribe into the Gate of the Worlds, then opened the Book of Lords to craft various tools.

He instructed the Skeleton soldiers to clean the mud-and-slime-laden vessel.

…

Main City.

Outside the Viscera Museum.

Nelson led the final Skeleton hero out.

*[Colt Priest (Purple Tier V)]*

This hero was the Fishmen Priest killed previously at the lake temple.

Due to his Purple Tier V rank and limited physical durability, he couldn’t be turned into a Living Dead.

Now, he was simply a Skeleton hero.

His human-shaped frame was topped with an enormous fish head.

It was slightly comical.

“My lord, this is the last hero, Colt Priest,” Nelson announced.

Fang Hao nodded. “Welcome aboard.”

“Gladly at your service, my lord,” Colt Priest said with a slight bow.

“Good. Pick out some suitable gear from the warehouse. I’ll assign your tasks later,” Fang Hao said.

“Understood, my lord.”

Colt Priest departed.

Fang Hao turned to Nelson, pulling out the square gold stamp obtained the previous night—*[Law Mark]*.

He inquired, “Scholar, do you know what this is?”

Nelson took the stamp, examining it briefly.

“What’s its function?” he countered.

“It’s described as a restraint tool. Apparently, it ‘restricts’ the wearer’s fundamental thoughts, forcing them to adhere to the basic rules of the Golden Law.”

“What exactly do you want to ask?”

“How does this thing work? The idea of restricting fundamental thoughts—what does that mean?” Fang Hao laid out his doubts.

Nelson pondered for a moment before explaining, “You can think of it as a totem-cursed mental spell. It restricts the core thoughts—essentially, deep within their subconscious, they can’t think beyond certain predefined boundaries.”

“So if I want someone to serve me, will it work?”

“The restriction works by controlling their thoughts, preventing them from exceeding a certain scope. For instance, you could prohibit them from killing humans, and their subconscious would accept it as wrong. However, you can’t command them to kill for you.”

Fang Hao carefully absorbed the explanation. The distinction was somewhat clear, though it felt subtly nuanced.

To sum up:

This tool restricted actions someone shouldn’t do—not things they should do.

A bit convoluted, but he could understand it.

“So how is it used?” Fang Hao asked further.

If it could restrict behavior, it was certainly worth his trade of a purple set.

Nelson examined the tool again and answered, “It lacks any complex requirements. Simply imprint the first drop of blood from the person you wish to restrict onto their upper body.”

“Whose blood?”

“The restricted person’s blood—this will only work on living beings. Undead creatures’ physical forms no longer influence thoughts or awareness, so it’s likely ineffective.”

Fang Hao nodded. “Got it.”

He carefully stored the golden square stamp away.

He and Nelson continued discussing recent dealings with the Fishmen.

Additionally, he told Nelson about the colossal ship salvaged from the ocean, which could serve as a secondary city in case the main city faced significant danger.

It would not only remain mobile but also provide for their survival needs.

It was an excellent option.

Nelson silently listened, occasionally offering insight or ideas.

…

The Dragon Clan, the universally acknowledged strongest race.

Dragons required no rigorous training or tedious study; their tiers naturally advanced with age as their power and wisdom grew.

Among races with such supreme strength and wisdom.

It inevitably fostered arrogance—or perhaps dominance.

No matter the other races.

They both envied the Dragon Clan’s power and feared their methods of operation.

Thus, few sought interactions with the Dragon Clan, avoiding trouble altogether.

Blood Prison.

At present, the Blood Prison appeared even emptier than before.

The captured dragons had signed contracts and been released.

Even the human, Aerygon, had been sent to a Webweaver camp to mine.

Only the Silver Dragon Beata and the dragon hero “Ashburn” remained locked up within the Blood Prison.

Several Skeleton heroes monitored them daily.

“Ms Beata, do you know Fang Hao?” Ashburn asked.

“No. Why?” Beata replied decisively.

“Strange, then. Why does he insist so much on us surrendering?” Now Ashburn voiced his inner doubts.

With the personality of this human transmigrator.

He would never tolerate factors that were out of his control.

The Dragon Clan hero “Spencer,” turned into an undead—was proof of this.

Given such a nature, why hadn’t he simply killed them to create obedient undead heroes? Why push so hard for their allegiance?

And even offer a fifty-year agreement?

Beata didn’t quite know how to answer; she understood why Fang Hao hadn’t killed them.

It was merely out of consideration for past circumstances.

“How would I know? He’s probably just crazy!”

Ashburn fell silent for a moment but refrained from dwelling on the matter, moving on instead. “Actually, fifty years isn’t an unreasonable condition for dragons. With his human lifespan, he may not even live that long.”

“What are you implying?” Beata turned her head, asking sharply.

“Ms Beata, you’re still growing. Staying confined like this will hinder your progress. Fifty years is a short span for us; don’t you think?” Ashburn advised gently.

“He killed so many dragons, and you want me to listen to him? I can’t accept that!” Beata bit out angrily.

“Think about it—it’s not entirely unreasonable. We led troops here; how could he not counterattack? The fact that he hasn’t killed us already is somewhat surprising,” Ashburn continued reasoning.

Their imprisonment had now stretched nearly a month.

The Dragon Clan showed no signs of intervening, and they had no viable means of escape.

Dragging this on benefited no one.

If anything, the human might decide one day to kill them and turn them into undead warriors.

“I don’t care! I’ll never agree to this!” Beata remained determined.

“It’s not solely about serving him. His power has already exceeded our expectations. Should more dragons attack him in the future, we’ll be free to warn others not to walk blindly into death,” Ashburn pondered aloud, continuing to persuade.

This time, Beata didn’t counter but seemed lost in thought.

At that moment, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the depths of the Blood Prison.

Both instantly fell into silence, ceasing their discussion.

A gold-armored Lizardman strode forward with measured steps.

He glanced over their states and spoke flatly: “Lord Fang Hao decrees that a significant portion of main city forces will be redeployed. To ensure the city’s safety, only one of you will remain alive, while the other will become an undead hero. Discuss among yourselves—decide who lives and who dies.”

After finishing, he turned and left without waiting for a response from either of them.

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