Chapter 332 The More Cunning Galos
"Trading loyalty for survival?"
The red iron dragon tilted its massive head slightly, seemingly seriously considering the lich's suggestion.
A few seconds later, he grinned, revealing a wide smile.
"That sounds very nice, but... I refuse."
There aren't many complicated reasons.
Galos sensed a lie in the other's words. He did not believe that he possessed any domineering aura, and that a mere tremor of his dragon body could make an old monster, once a legendary human, now a necromancer and filled with resentment, truly submit.
If the other party is just an ordinary lich, or if he himself is a legend, he might consider accepting this dangerous "tool".
But the situation is different now.
A legendary lich whose mind is inevitably twisted and uncontrollable due to the transformation of the dead; a time bomb that may be hiding unknown trump cards and could backfire at any time.
The risks far outweigh the rewards!
To be on the safe side, Galos decided to take the most brutal and simplest method—to destroy his opponent.
This will solve the problem once and for all, and prevent future troubles.
Upon hearing the dragon's final words, the lich's face contorted with rage. He began to struggle and resist violently, his withered body unleashing its last vestiges of negative energy in a desperate last stand.
"Foolish! Damn dragon! You have no idea what you've given up! You'll regret it later—"
Click! Click, click...!
Garus clenched his dragon claws without hesitation.
The claws were wreathed in violent, surging lightning and deep black and red dragon energy, grinding and polishing back and forth like a millstone.
Finally, accompanied by a brief but extremely shrill soul scream, the lich's fragile body was unable to withstand this destructive power and turned into dust.
Garus spread out his enormous dragon claws.
In his palm, only a small clump of ashes, mixed with charred bone ash and energy residue, fell softly and was scattered by the night wind at the bottom of the pit, leaving no trace of its existence.
"grown ups."
Charles appeared silently, gazing at the scattering ashes, and whispered a suggestion: "Whether it's a lich or a necromancer, they are both infamous for their endless ways of survival and their bizarre resurrection abilities."
"Should we find a way to thoroughly purify this area again, just in case?"
Red Iron Dragon waved his massive claws dismissively and said, "No need for that. I'm certain he's dead as dead as can be."
Charles still seemed hesitant, and continued, "Excuse my frankness, but to be absolutely sure, I think we'd better—"
Before he could finish speaking, he was rudely interrupted by the dragon.
"Huh? You're teaching me how to do things? No one—can survive under my claws!"
"It didn't exist in the past, it doesn't exist now, and it won't exist in the future!"
Upon hearing these arrogant and self-righteous words, Charles paused for a moment, then quickly lowered his head.
"Please forgive me, it was my oversight."
Soon after, accompanied by a deafening whooshing sound, the enormous red iron dragon spread its wings, carrying scorching air currents as it soared into the sky and disappeared into the vast night sky.
The Flower Lord, Charles, followed closely behind and departed.
The giant pit returned to deathly silence.
A moment later, a group of dragons of various shapes and races surged into the battlefield like a tide.
They cleaned up the mess, collecting scattered, valuable magical items or materials; gathering the mountain of undead remains; finally, a raging fire ignited, completely incinerating all the worthless debris, thick smoke billowing into the sky.
Time slipped by unnoticed, and seven days later it was night.
Tonight, the moonlight is clear and bright, its pure light pouring down from the sky like mercury, spreading across the ravaged earth and quietly penetrating the huge, deep crater that has a glassy texture.
All was quiet, save for the occasional cool night breeze.
Another half hour passed.
Suddenly, a chilling wind, seemingly out of nowhere, swept up from the bottom of the pit.
Particles of strange dust, imperceptible to the naked eye and containing faint soul fluctuations, were quietly swept up from the ash and crystalline cracks throughout the giant pit, as if drawn by an invisible hand, and converged towards the center of the pit's bottom.
As the dust accumulated, it gradually coalesced and outlined a withered, humanoid silhouette.
The lich Phillips has been resurrected once more.
More accurately, he did not actually die; he simply used an extremely clever method of feigning death to deceive everyone, thus allowing him to reappear in the world without relying on the Life Box.
“Foolish and arrogant dragons…completely unaware of the power of legendary techniques.”
"Necromancers delve into the mysteries of life and death. Do you really think you can kill me with brute force?"
The lich uttered an extremely faint whisper, and an uncontrollable hint of smugness appeared on his face, which was almost entirely covered by skin.
The moment his pseudo-legendary domain was completely shattered, he sensed something was wrong. Without hesitation, he used all his remaining energy to cast his trump card for survival, trying his best to preserve his body. Otherwise, he would have to start a long slumber again due to the weakness of his soul.
However, he still suffered an unimaginable blow this time.
Whatever he originally planned to do next would be severely delayed.
"Damn it, I'll remember this!"
"I swear by my soul that when I return to the legendary realm, I will transform you into my most powerful undead servant! I will imprison your consciousness eternally within that mighty dragon body, torturing and humiliating you day after day!"
"When we meet again, I will make you realize what true fear is!"
Phillips gritted his teeth and listed the Red Iron Dragon as his number one target for revenge, alongside the Holy King Lorthorn.
With a weak flicker of the azure soul fire, the lich laboriously cast a low-level invisibility spell to conceal his faint presence. Then, he staggered out of the desolate pit and trudged towards his hidden cave in the distance.
at the same time.
Deep in the conifer valley, Galos had just completed a set of extremely intense physical training exercises, his body steaming with heat.
During a brief rest, he closed his eyes and focused his mind, sensing the subtle changes and slow repair of his body after the extreme training.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, he abruptly opened his eyes and took out a communication stone that was trembling slightly.
No sound or image appeared on the communication stone. It trembled very briefly, and a rune mark representing the Flower Lord, Shar, flashed across its surface.
Then it fell completely silent and did not react at all.
It was as if the tremor just now was an illusion.
Garus stroked his jaw, which was covered with thick scales, his gaze seemingly piercing through mountains, looking in the direction of the battle with the lich, and let out a low, knowing hum.
"Tsk."
"Necromancers are not so easy to kill after all."
"I just don't know if he has actually crafted the Life Box. If he has, well, that would be perfect for me."
This was not the first time Garros had dealt with necromancers.
He still vividly remembered the necromancer's performance when he encountered that group of low-level adventurers in Hemlock Hills.
If he hadn't been cautious and decisively followed up with a dragon's breath to whip the corpse, that guy might have actually escaped.
Even the lowest-ranking necromancer is so good at feigning death.
A lich transformed from a legendary necromancer? He must possess even more secret techniques for survival, feigning death, and escaping his body.
Does the other side have any trump cards up their sleeve? What exactly are they?
Galos was indeed not entirely certain.
But he knew perfectly well that the other party would not be so easily killed.
So, at the edge of the giant pit, he feigned absolute confidence and disdain for Charles's advice, rudely interrupting the other's reminder and displaying the image of a stubborn and self-confident dragon. In reality, after leaving, he ordered Charles to lie in ambush near the battlefield ruins day and night, closely monitoring everything that was amiss.
As he expected, the guy did indeed come back to life.
"The Lich's Life Box is an extremely precious item. Perhaps it can be used in the Dragonforging and Transformation Ritual."
Red Iron Dragon shook its massive head, bringing its thoughts back to the present.
The next moment, he spread his dragon wings, waved them gently, and his massive body instantly tore through the night sky, soaring into the star-studded night sky before speeding off in a certain direction.
(End of this chapter)
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