The footage of the 8th place on the “Happiness Ranking,” titled “The Happiest Wife,” had just finished airing.
In short, Harvey made a significant breakthrough in the Necromancy Sect, creating a perfect undead wife. This wife completely understood Harvey’s preferences, kept up with his pace of thinking, and loved him wholeheartedly. Her happiest moments were spending time researching with Harvey, and his progress was her source of joy. In this regard, she indeed deserved the description of being the “happiest,” as typical couples would have arguments and secrets, whereas they fit together like a perfectly matched puzzle.
At first glance, it seemed quite logical.
Then, as usual, Ashe made an appearance, and with just a few words, he enlightened the wife about her potential as an undead. To better assist Harvey, she decided to become a necromancer as an undead, no longer content with being merely Harvey’s dependent!
At first glance, it seemed quite inspiring.
Because she chose the second path, she naturally was no longer the happiest wife, her ranking is invalid, and the reward is voided..
To most people, this future scenario seemed reasonable: a necromancer creating an undead bride that satisfies his every sexual fetish wasn’t unusual, right? And distributing the position of the happiest wife to an undead creature as a nod to minority inclusion on the Gospel Ranking seemed quite politically correct, didn’t it?
But for those who knew Harvey, this was absurdity to the max—if Harvey really needed an undead for sexual function, he wouldn’t have only one undead, and that being Alice (♂)!
Yes, Harvey did have someone he liked before, but those feelings arose before he delved deeply into the Necromancy Sect, much like cicadas in summer—once missed, never to return.
Even if someone else liked him now, Harvey, engulfed in the cold winter of necromancy, could never embrace summer again.
Therefore, Harvey now only looked at people’s functionality, not their sexual function.
This was something Ashe and Igor had much to say about. Over the past few days, sharing bunk beds with no private space had given Harvey plenty of time to observe them. He had meticulously planned various undead enhancements for them—ghoul enhancements for their hands, bone demon enhancements for their legs, lich enhancements for their hearts... When Harvey looked at people, it was really no different from how one would evaluate cuts of pork.
And after all, a partner is ultimately for emotional comfort. However, as a madman so powerful that he didn’t even need friends, Harvey didn’t need any emotional comfort. In the dead of night, he wouldn’t be wallowing in nostalgia; he’d be incessantly planning his own death scenes.
“Harvey,” Ashe asked, “what are your thoughts on this?”
“I don’t rule out the possibility of having a mental breakdown in the future,” Harvey replied calmly. “Who knows, I might come up with new ideas when I see Igor getting married? After all, human emotions are regulated by hormones, and reproduction is one of the major concerns of those hormones. It’s not surprising if I succumb to biological instincts.”
“But undead can’t reproduce...”
“Hmm?” Harvey looked at Ashe with a peculiar expression. “Isn’t reproduction essentially creating a new, intelligent life?”
“So, you still haven’t...” Ashe trailed off, suddenly catching up with Harvey’s line of thought—in a certain sense, necromancers did indeed reproduce.
“So, isn’t she both your daughter and your wife?” Igor said casually.
“Igor, have you lost your mind? I didn’t even say that out loud!” Ashe hastily covered Lise’s ears. “There are kids here, mind your influence!”
Lise broke free from Ashe’s hands. “Aunt Bukin, tell me more, I want to hear.”
Ashe: “Σ(°△°|||)_?”
Next up, in 7th place, was The Happiest Red Hat, and the lucky winner was none other than someone everyone knew—Cleos. Before they could finish introducing her glorious achievements, Ashe swooped in. Just like before, he easily lured Cleos away, and Cleos seemed to become Ashe’s simp. Resulting in another ranking invalid and the rewards voided.
The 6th place was The Happiest Merchant, featuring the honorable appearance of Yvaren. Character introduction, Ashe’s swoop-in, and recruiting her as a lackey...
The 5th place...
The ranking continued to grow more outrageous, featuring people who were almost all somehow related to Ashe and his group. In each piece of footage, Ashe made an inevitable appearance, using various methods to divert the ranked individuals from their original paths, leading them to follow Ashe instead.
And the most absurd part was that nearly all the unmarried females in the ranking, including Cleos, Yvaren, and others, displayed strong affection for Ashe. Ashe seriously doubted whether the Gospel Ranking had misidentified his race—he was human, not a Bewitcher!
A well-meaning “Happiness Ranking” had morphed into Ashe’s personal collection tour, turning the Gospel Ranking into a matrimonial Firm.
Lise clung to Ashe like a koala, earnestly picking out potential stepmoms, critiquing them for being too short or not gentle enough, as if Ashe had any real say in the matter.
“Happiness Ranking, 2nd place: The Happiest Patriarch”
When the 2nd place on the ‘Happiness Ranking’ ended, the room suddenly fell into silence.
The atmosphere was so heavy that even the mental spellcaster, Heath, couldn’t think of anything to lighten the mood.
Lise gave Ashe a resentful glance, then turned to Annan and said, “Sister Annan...”
Although the greeting was still as mundane as ever, at this moment, the title “Sister Annan” seemed to carry a new meaning.
Annan glanced at them expressionlessly and then looked down, saying, “The first place has been updated.”
“Happiness Ranking, 1st place: The Happiest Empress”
“Synopsis: ...”
There wasn’t even a synopsis for the first place. It transitioned directly to the footage, and this time, the Gospel Book didn’t even bother with a pretense, featuring Ashe right from the start.
“In a grand palace, Ashe lounged lazily on the throne at the top, with a young empress sitting on his lap, her back to the camera, obscuring her face. She held Ashe’s neck intimately, looking like the favored consort of the Calamity Demon Lord.”
The footage ended.
“Happiness Ranking, 1st place: The Happiest Empress”
“Synopsis: With Ashe Heath involved, ranking invalid.”
“Reward: Voided”
“Culprit: Ashe Heath”
Ashe closed the Gospel Book with a sense of immense relief.
This was the most uncomfortable ranking list he had ever seen because he appeared as the villain from start to finish.
Unlike the Family Ranking, where he was at most a lackey, with the chief culprit being the necromancer Harvey, in the Happiness Ranking, he practically monopolized the mischief. From the lowest place to the first, he had indulged in everything, leaving no grass unplucked.
If evil had a color, it certainly wouldn’t be enough to describe Ashe’s shade.
Ashe noticed Lise rewinding to view the empress scene and said, “Stop looking, she’s definitely not your stepmom. I don’t even know her... Huh?”
Lise suddenly tensed up, quickly closing the Gospel Book. “Dad, why were you surprised?”
“Nothing, it’s just that the empress’s pose was similar to yours,” Ashe replied.
At that moment, Lise was also sitting on his lap, one arm around his neck. The resemblance to the empress scene was indeed striking.
Lise froze but then quickly returned to her usual self, hands on her hips as she laughed loudly, “That’s right, I am the empress! So, Dad, you have to listen to me. Tomorrow, you need to buy ice cream!”
Ashe ignored her, turning to Annan and Igor. “Now that the ranking list is over, can you explain what’s going on with the Weaving Festival?”
Annan closed the Gospel Book and carefully considered her words.
“Do you know ‘Divine Illusion’? In ancient theater, when the plot required a major twist, and roles like angels needed to appear, illusion spellcasters would create scene effects to make the angel appear abruptly on stage.”
“Later, in theater and novel works, ‘Divine Illusion’ came to refer to those contrived, forced, and completely unprepared plot twists. For example, when writers didn’t know how to continue, they would either have an angel save everything or a meteorite destroy everything.”
Ashe pondered, “Are we the angels?”
“No,” Annan said. “You are the meteorite.”