allonlinenovel Chapter 423 - 330: An Even Craftier Galos
Chapter 423 - 330: An Even Craftier Galos
"Exchange allegiance for survival?"
The Red Iron Dragon slightly tilted its massive head, seemingly genuinely considering the Lich’s suggestion.
A few seconds later, it opened its giant mouth in a smile.
"Sounds quite appealing, but... I refuse."
There weren’t too many complex reasons.
Galos detected the scent of deceit in the opponent’s words. He didn’t believe he possessed a regal aura that would allow a former legendary human, now an undead lich, full of resentment, to genuinely submit.
If the opponent were just an ordinary lich, or if he himself were legendary, he might consider taking in this dangerous "tool."
But the situation was different now,
A legendary lich with a mind inevitably twisted and uncontrollable due to undead transformation, a ticking time bomb that may harbor unknown cards and could backfire at any moment.
The risk far outweighed the reward!
To be on the safe side, Galos decided to adopt the most brutal and straightforward method — destroy the opponent.
Once and for all, ending all future troubles.
Upon hearing the dragon’s final words, the lich’s face twisted with anger, and it began to struggle fiercely, resisting, releasing the last bit of negative energy from its withered body in a desperate struggle.
"Foolish! Damn dragon! You have no idea what you’ve given up! You will regr—"
Crack! Crackle...!
Galos unhesitatingly tightened his dragon claw.
Fierce lightning and deep, dark red dragon qi entwined his claw, grinding back and forth like a millstone.
Finally, accompanied by a brief but extremely shrill soul-echoing scream, the lich’s fragile body could not withstand this destructive power and turned to dust.
Galos opened his gigantic dragon claw.
In the palm, only a small handful of mixed charred bone ash and energy residue remained, falling silently and scattered by the pit bottom’s night wind, leaving no trace of its existence.
"Master."
Shire’s figure silently appeared, looking at the scattering ashes and lowly suggesting, "Whether it’s a lich or a necromancer, they are notoriously known for their endless life-saving techniques and tricky resurrection abilities."
"Should we find a way to purify this area once more, just in case?"
The Red Iron Dragon nonchalantly waved its huge claw, saying, "No need to do anything extra, I am sure he is dead beyond dead."
Shire seemed still doubtful, continuing, "Forgive my bluntness, to ensure absolute safety, I think we best—"
His words were rudely interrupted by the dragon.
"Hmm? Are you teaching me how to do things? No one—can survive under this dragon’s claws!"
"Not in the past, not now, and not in the future!"
Hearing this unusually arrogant and headstrong statement, Shire hesitated slightly, then quickly lowered his head.
"Please forgive me, it was presumptuous of me."
Not long after, with the deafening sound of the wind, the massive Red Iron Dragon spread its wings, carried by a scorching current as it soared into the sky, vanishing into the vast night sky.
Flower Lord Shire followed closely and left as well.
The giant pit returned to its eerie silence.
A moment later, a group of Dragon Race followers of various forms and races surged into the battlefield like a tide.
They cleaned up the aftermath, collecting valuable magic items or materials scattered about; gathering the towering piles of undead remains; finally, they set ablaze everything worthless, reducing it all to ashes with roaring flames, sending thick smoke billowing skyward.
Time passed quietly, and before long it was the night of seven days later.
This night, the moonlight was clear and bright, spilling down like mercury from the sky, spreading over the scarred land and quietly extending into the giant pit that now resembled a glazed texture.
All was silent, with only the occasional brush of the cool night breeze.
Half an hour passed.
Suddenly, an unfounded, cold, chilling wind arose out of nowhere at the pit’s bottom.
Particles of peculiar dust, invisible to the naked eye yet containing faint soul vibrations, were quietly lifted from the ashes and crystalline crevices across the massive crater, as if drawn by an invisible hand, gathering toward the center of the pit.
These particles increased in number, gradually coalescing and outlining an emaciated and shriveled humanoid figure.
The Witch Demon Phillips had resurrected once more.
More accurately, he had never truly died, having fooled everyone with an exceedingly clever illusion of death spell, thus allowing him to reappear without relying on his phylactery.
"Foolish and arrogant Dragon Race... utterly ignorant of the power of legendary techniques."
"The Necromancer delves into the mysteries of life and death. Do you think brute force alone can truly kill me?"
The lich uttered an extremely faint whisper, a hint of smugness uncontrollably appearing on his nearly fleshless face.
At the moment when his pseudo-legendary domain was utterly shattered, he sensed a calamity was imminent and unhesitatingly expended all his remaining energy, casting his trump card life-saving spell to preserve his body; otherwise, he would once again enter a prolonged slumber due to soul weakness.
Yet, regardless, he still suffered unimaginable injuries this time.
Whatever he had initially planned to do next was now inevitably and severely delayed.
"Damn you, I’ve marked this debt!"
"I swear on my soul, when I return to the legendary domain, I will transform you into my most powerful undead servant! I will imprison your consciousness within that formidable dragon body, subjecting you to daily torment and ceaseless humiliation!"
"Next time we meet, I will ensure you understand what true fear is!"
Phillips listed the Red Iron Dragon alongside the Luo Sern Saint King as top targets for vengeance, with gritted teeth.
The faint blue Soul Fire flickered weakly as the lich struggled to cast a low-level invisibility spell to conceal his faint aura, then staggered out of the desolate pit, stumbling towards the direction of his hidden sanctuary.
Meanwhile.
Deep within Needleleaf Valley, Galos had just completed a set of intensely demanding physical training, steam rising from his body.
During a brief rest, he closed his eyes, concentrating on the subtle changes and slow recovery within his body following the extreme workout.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, he abruptly opened his eyes and immediately retrieved a slightly vibrating Communication Stone.
No sound or image appeared on the Communication Stone; it trembled briefly, and the emblem of Flower Lord Shire flashed across its surface.
Then, it fell completely silent, with no further response.
It was as if the earlier trembling was just an illusion.
Galos stroked the thick scale armor on his jaw, his gaze seemingly penetrating the layers of mountains, looking in the direction where he had previously battled the lich, letting out a low and understanding grunt.
"....Tsk..."
"Indeed, Necromancers don’t die so easily."
"I just wonder if he has created a phylactery, and if so, heh, that would be all the better for me."
Galos was not unfamiliar with dealing with Necromancers.
He remembered clearly when he encountered a group of low-level adventurers in the Iron Pine Hills, one Necromancer’s performance left a lasting impression on him.
If he hadn’t been cautious and decisively followed up with a Dragon Breath to ensure the kill, that guy might have successfully escaped.
Even the lowest-level Necromancers are adept at playing dead.
What about a lich, transformed from a once-legendary Necromancer? The life-saving, faux-death, and shedding techniques he possessed would only be more abundant.
Does the opponent really have a trump card? What exactly is it?
Galos couldn’t be entirely sure.
But he was deeply aware that the opponent wouldn’t be so easily killed off.
Thus, at the edge of the crater, he feigned absolute confidence and dismissively interrupted Shire’s advice, portraying a self-opinionated Giant Dragon image, while secretly instructing Shire to remain vigilant near the battlefield remains day and night, observing any anomalies.
As expected, that guy revived.
"A lich’s phylactery is an extremely valuable item, perhaps it could be useful for a Dragon Forged Transformation Ceremony."
The Red Iron Dragon shook its massive head, reining in his thoughts.
In the next moment, he unfurled his Dragon Wings, giving a gentle flap, as his enormous body tore through the night sky, soaring towards a specific direction.