novelraw Chapter 329: Cunning Lich
Chapter 329: Cunning Lich
The Red Iron Dragon stood at the bottom of the massive crater, his feet resting upon the enormous remains that no longer moved.
He slowly exhaled a scorching breath, the searing red hue of his scale armor gradually fading away, returning to the blackish-red color of metal that had been tempered at high temperatures then cooled.
Billowing heat waves surged from the gaps between his scales, dispersing and evaporating the bone-chilling negative energy permeating the air.
Immediately after, his energy aura visibly plummeted at a rapid pace.
His originally indestructible dragon scales, refined like tempered steel, were now covered in wounds and scars. There were fine cracks from overexertion during his Crimson Lotus Form, as well as conspicuous injuries torn by the bone claws of the dead giant or corroded by the lich's venomous spells.
In summary, he now appeared severely injured, with weakened energy, looking exceptionally vulnerable.
"Hey, got any more trump cards or hidden aces up your sleeve?"
The Red Iron Dragon grinned widely, revealing a weary smile as he spoke to the lich trapped in his claw. "You see, to defeat you, I've paid a rather painful price myself. I'm so weak now I could be blown over by a breeze."
"So if you've got any more tricks, feel free to use them. No need to hold back anymore."
Blown over by a breeze?From sensory perception, the opponent's energy had indeed weakened significantly, far from the despair-inducing power he displayed earlier.
However, Phillips had already exhausted every available means at his disposal during the previous battle.
If he truly had any hidden killing moves, he wouldn't have been reduced to being clutched like a chick in the dragon's claw.
He believed that given the combat instincts this Red Iron Dragon had displayed, he couldn't possibly fail to understand this.
Those words just now were merely the victor's condescending mockery of the completely defeated who had lost all ability to resist.
His entire body was tightly bound by the scorching, overwhelming Dragon Qi, completely immobilized.
With the lich's inherently frail physical form, at this moment, the slightest pressure from the dragon's claw tip would be enough to crush this body he had spent centuries forming into dust.
"...You've won."
After a long silence, the lich Phillips finally spoke hoarsely, his voice filled with resigned dejection.
Garoth hadn't won through any schemes or tricks, but had legitimately crushed his proud legendary Domain with absolute power in direct confrontation.
Given this circumstance, he had no grounds for complaint about his defeat and could only accept reality.
After speaking these words, the pride that once belonged to a legendary human and the viciousness of an undead lich seemed to simultaneously vanish from his withered, ferocious face.
What replaced them was an empty calmness.
With great difficulty, he twitched the corner of his mouth, pulling at the remaining dry flesh on his face to form a human smile that looked worse than crying, though the expression appeared utterly bizarre on his skeletal visage.
"Mighty dragon, I see nearly limitless potential and future in you."
"Can we... reach a reconciliation?"
"I'm willing to pay a corresponding price, one sufficient to satisfy you, in exchange for the opportunity to continue existing."
The rationality and calculation from his human period now held absolute dominance. Phillips temporarily set aside his dignity and chose the most practical path to survival.
Garoth lowered his massive dragon head, gazing at the prisoner in his claw.
"You're afraid of death?"
He said, "From what I know, you liches who enjoy toying with souls hide your lives in some phylactery. Even if I crush you to dust here, you should be able to crawl back out from some box in a dark corner."
"Yet you act as if you fear complete annihilation, without any of the confidence a lich should possess."
The soulfire in Phillips' eye sockets flickered faintly as he responded quietly, "Not all liches possess phylacteries."
Garoth narrowed his eyes slightly and asked, "The process of creating a phylactery is indeed complicated, but you were once legendary. Isn't it rather shameful for a legendary powerhouse to not even prepare a life-preserving phylactery?"
The lich shook his head slightly, his skull emitting faint grinding sounds.
"I once battled the Lothrian Holy King and ultimately... narrowly lost to his sword."
He concealed the fact that he had actually been swiftly decapitated by the Holy King's overwhelming force after revealing his true form, speaking instead in a world-weary tone: "Before that, I never had any intention of transforming into a lich, and naturally never made corresponding preparations."
"Unfortunately, after the battle with the Holy King, my injuries were too severe, my soul nearing dissipation."
"To cling to life, I had no choice but to hastily transform into this repulsive undead form you see now."
"For the following several centuries, the Lothrian Federation rose to its zenith, its influence spreading everywhere. I didn't dare to rashly expose my existence, naturally having no opportunity to peacefully craft a phylactery, nor could I collect sufficiently powerful souls to recover and strengthen myself."
"Only recently, when I heard news of the Holy King's fall and the Federation descending into civil war chaos, did I finally decide to end my hibernation and emerge from hiding."
At this point, the lich's voice paused momentarily.
He lifted his empty eye sockets, looking toward the massive dragon head so close he could almost touch it, his tone becoming extremely complex: "And then... right after emerging, I encountered you—another terrifying being like the Holy King of old, capable of single-handedly crushing an Undead Legion."
First killed by the Holy King, forced to transform into a lich.
After enduring and hiding for centuries, finally seeing an opportunity to reemerge into the world, only to run into this Red Iron Dragon and meet the same unfortunate fate.
Phillips deeply felt that fate had cruelly toyed with him.
"I see."
Garoth neither affirmed nor denied his explanation, neither pressing for details nor questioning its veracity.
He simply asked, "So, what price are you willing to pay in exchange for your life?"
The lich responded immediately, his tone appearing exceptionally sincere.
"I'm willing to form the strictest soul contract with you, pledging loyalty to become your most faithful servant and follower."
"Please believe me—a necromancer who once reached legendary status, who even battled the Holy King, would be an invaluable asset even for a powerful dragon like yourself, truly a rare find."
"My accumulated experience, vast knowledge spanning like oceans, and mastery of various powerful necromantic spells... all of this will serve you, helping you achieve dominance."
As he spoke, the lich's soulfire flickered almost imperceptibly.
Those claims about loyalty, about lacking a phylactery—they were all complete lies from start to finish.
As a being who had once reached legendary status, whose soul essence had undergone transformation, even now battered and weakened to the extreme, the core of his soul remained incredibly resilient, containing essence far surpassing ordinary liches.
An ordinary soul contract?
Its binding power over him would be minimal.
His sole purpose at this moment was to deceive this seemingly powerful but, in his eyes, inevitably limited hybrid dragon.
If the opponent showed even momentary carelessness or arrogance and accepted his pledge of loyalty, he could not only preserve this painstakingly formed lich body, avoiding the enormous cost of re-forming it, but also legitimately follow this powerful Red Iron Dragon.
Just imagine.
When this dragon wreaks havoc across the wilderness, slaughtering countless powerful beings, those strong, resentment-filled, fresh souls... would all become nourishment for Phillips to strengthen himself.
He would cling like a parasitic bone worm, secretly feeding on the death feast brought by the dragon, quietly growing stronger.
When he recovered his power, or even advanced further... that would be when he turned against this foolish, powerful Red Iron Dragon and completely transformed him into his most powerful undead puppet.
In his view, this Red Iron Hybrid Dragon's power was indeed unimaginably strong, exceeding his expectations.
But he absolutely refused to believe the opponent's wisdom could compare to his own.
Neither purebred Iron Dragons nor Red Dragons were known for their intelligence, and this hybrid before him, with his ferocious combat style and straightforward demeanor, perfectly fit the definition of a brute.
And Phillips during his human life had been famous precisely for his cunning and strategic mind.
Even after transforming into a lich, with human thinking eroded by necromantic energy becoming twisted and obsessive, when facing life-and-death crises and once-in-a-millennium opportunities, he still instinctively displayed that deep-rooted cunning embedded in his soul's core.