Chapter 331 The Cunning Lich
The red iron dragon stood at the bottom of the giant pit, with the massive, motionless wreckage beneath its feet.
He slowly exhaled a scorching breath, and the fiery red color of his scales gradually faded, turning back into a dark red, as if they had been tempered at high temperatures and then cooled down.
Rolling heat surged out from between the scales, dispelling and evaporating the chilling negative energy that permeated the air.
Immediately afterwards, his aura rapidly declined at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The dragon scales that were once indestructible, like refined steel, are now covered in wounds. There are fine lines that cracked on their own when the Crimson Lotus state was activated and overloaded, as well as conspicuous wounds from being torn by the bone claws of the undead giants or corroded by the lich's insidious spells.
In short, he appears to be severely injured, weak, and extremely frail.
"Hey, do you have any other trump cards or hidden tricks up your sleeve?"
The red iron dragon grinned, revealing a weary smile, and said to the lich imprisoned in its claws, "Look, I paid a heavy price to defeat you, and now I'm so weak I'm practically frail."
"So, if you still have any tricks up your sleeve, just use them. There's no need to hold back anymore."
fragile?
From what I could sense, the opponent's aura had indeed weakened considerably, far from the despair-inducing power it had previously displayed.
However, Phillips had already exhausted all the means he could use in the previous battles.
If he really had some hidden trump card, he wouldn't have ended up being held in the opponent's hands like a chick.
He felt that, given the fighting instincts this red iron dragon had displayed, it couldn't possibly be unaware of this.
Those words were nothing more than a condescending mockery of the victors towards the utterly powerless losers.
His entire body was tightly bound and imprisoned by the scorching and powerful dragon energy, making him completely unable to move.
With the lich's frail body, at this moment, the opponent only needs to exert a little force with its claws to crush his body, which took hundreds of years to form, into dust.
"...You win."
After a long silence, the lich Phillips finally spoke, his voice hoarse and filled with a sense of resignation.
Galos did not win through any tricks or schemes, but rather through a fair and square confrontation, using absolute power to crush the legendary domain that he was so proud of.
Since that's the case, there's nothing more to say about the defeat; we can only accept reality.
After saying this, the pride that once belonged to legendary humans and the ruthlessness that belonged to liches and necromancers on his withered and ferocious face seemed to vanish at the same time.
Instead, there was an empty calm.
He forced a smile, pulling at the last remaining shriveled flesh on his face, revealing a smile that was more like a grimace than a human one, though it looked incredibly eerie on his skeletal features.
“Mighty dragon, I see almost limitless potential and future in you.”
"Can we...reconcile?"
"I am willing to pay a price that will satisfy you in exchange for the chance to continue living."
Reason and judgment, typical of human beings, prevailed at this moment. Phillips temporarily set aside his dignity and chose the most realistic path to survival.
Garus lowered his massive dragon head and stared at the prisoner in his claws.
"Are you very afraid of dying?"
He said, "As far as I know, you liches who like to play with souls will hide your lives in some kind of life box. Even if I crush you into dust here, you should be able to crawl out of some dark corner box again."
"However, you act as if you are terrified of utter annihilation, without any of the confidence that a lich should have."
The soul fire in Phillips' eyes flickered faintly as he replied in a low voice, "Not all liches possess a life box."
Galos narrowed his eyes and asked, "The process of creating a Life Box is indeed complicated, but you were once a legend, yet you couldn't even prepare a life box to save your life. Isn't that a bit too disgraceful for a legendary powerhouse?"
The lich shook his head slightly, his skull making a soft grinding sound.
“I once fought a fierce battle with Holy King Lorthorn, and in the end… I was defeated by his sword.”
He concealed the fact that he had been swiftly beheaded by the Holy King with overwhelming force after his true identity was exposed, and said in a weathered tone, "Before that, I never intended to transform into a lich, and naturally I never made any corresponding preparations."
"Unfortunately, after the battle with the Holy King, I was severely injured and my soul was on the verge of dissipation."
"In order to prolong its life, it had no choice but to hastily transform into this hideous undead form."
"In the centuries that followed, the Lorthern Federation was at its zenith, its influence spreading far and wide. I dared not easily reveal my existence, so I had no opportunity to refine the Life Box in peace, nor was I able to collect enough powerful souls to restore and strengthen myself."
"Until recently, when I heard the news of the Holy King's fall and the Federation's descent into civil war, I finally decided to end my hibernation and emerge from my hiding place."
The lich paused for a moment at this point.
He raised his empty eye sockets and looked at the huge dragon head that was close at hand. His tone became extremely complicated: "Then... as soon as I came out, I met you, another terrifying guy like the Holy King back then, who could destroy the undead army by himself."
He was first killed by the Holy King and forced to transform into a lich.
After enduring centuries of silence and lying low, it finally got the chance to see the light of day again, only to run into this red iron dragon and suffer the same unfortunate fate.
Phillips felt deeply as if he had been cruelly mocked by fate.
"I see."
Galus neither confirmed nor denied his statement, neither inquiring about the details nor questioning its veracity.
He asked simply, "So, what price are you willing to pay for your life?"
The lich responded immediately, his tone unusually sincere.
"I am willing to sign the most stringent soul contract with you, pledge my allegiance to you, and become your most loyal servant and companion."
"Please believe me, a necromancer who has stepped into the realm of legend and even fought fiercely with the Holy King is an absolutely rare and precious treasure, even for a powerful dragon like you."
"My accumulated experience, vast knowledge, and mastery of various powerful necromancy spells... all of this will be at your disposal to help you achieve your dominance."
As he spoke, the lich soulfire flickered almost imperceptibly.
Those claims about loyalty and the absence of a life box were, of course, complete lies.
As someone who once reached the legendary realm and whose soul essence had undergone a transformation, even though he is now scarred and extremely weak, his soul core remains incredibly resilient, containing an essence far exceeding that of ordinary liches.
A normal soul contract?
The binding force on him was negligible.
His only goal at this moment was to deceive this seemingly powerful, but in his eyes, intelligent, hybrid dragon.
If the other party is careless or arrogant and accepts his loyalty, he can not only preserve the lich body that he has worked so hard to create, avoiding the huge cost of rebuilding it, but also rightfully follow this powerful red iron dragon.
Imagine it.
As this dragon wreaks havoc across the wilderness, slaughtering countless powerful creatures, those powerful, resentful, and fresh souls... all become nourishment for Phillips to grow stronger.
He will grow stronger quietly, like a leech, drawing sustenance from the dragon's death feast in the shadows.
When he regains his strength, or even reaches a higher level... that will be the time for him to turn against his own side and completely transform this foolish, powerful red iron dragon into the most powerful undead puppet under his command.
In his eyes, the power of this red-iron hybrid dragon was indeed unbelievably strong, exceeding his expectations.
But he absolutely did not believe that the other party's wisdom could match his own.
Neither purebred iron dragons nor red dragons are known for their intelligence. This hybrid in front of them, with its ferocious fighting style and stubborn attitude, perfectly fits the definition of a brute.
Phillips was known throughout the world for his cunning and scheming during his lifetime.
Even after transforming into a lich, his mind became distorted and paranoid due to the corruption of necromantic energy. However, when faced with life-or-death crises and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, he still instinctively revealed the cunning deeply rooted in his soul.
(End of this chapter)
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