“Look at all those lovely, plump mortals soaking in hot water!”
At the head of the ten thousand continent-sized bone-ships, Elder Gu Sen (Rank 9 Early Peak), Vanguard Commander of the Cold-Bone Corpse Sect, licked his blackened lips as he stood on top of a throne made of frozen mammoth skulls.
His body was thin as a bamboo rake, his skin was gray-white like grave chalk, and three rusted iron coffins floated behind his back on chains of green corpse-fire.
“For a thousand years, our Cold-Bone Sect worked so hard driving Frost-Curse Nails into twenty white-dwarf stars to turn the Frost-Ash Galaxy into our prime corpse-refrigerator!” Elder Gu Sen snarled, pointing a bony finger at the five blazing golden White-Dwarf Heating Suns and the steaming bathhouse moon below. “Every winter, three hundred million mortals used to freeze stiff down there, giving us free materials to refine Iron-Bone War Puppets! And now some busybody village mayor comes along, turns on the heat, feeds them roast-beef turnips, and ruins our whole harvest?!”
“Commander Gu, look at their skin!” drooled his deputy, a hunchbacked necromancer named Corpse-Grinder Yin. “Those sixty-six trillion citizens have been eating high-grade spirit beef and soaking in ginger water! Their bones are ten times denser than starving refugees! If we blast those planets with our Ten-Thousand-Grave Corpse-Poison Torpedoes right now, put out their suns, and freeze them all again, we’ll harvest enough top-grade corpses to build a legion for the Sect Master!”
