A Dragon against the Whole World

Chapter 409 - 323: Saint King! I Will Humiliate You Without Mercy! (2)

Until not long ago, the news of the Saint King’s downfall reached his hidden lair.

He immediately foresaw that the Federation, losing this pillar of strength, would inevitably spiral into division and internal chaos.

He decided not to remain dormant any longer, and seize this rare opportunity when the Federation’s control over the Wilderness is at its weakest, to wildly harvest souls, regain power, and ascend back to a legendary status, then proceed with his centuries-old blood vengeance against the Lotheren Kingdom!

"Molten Iron Tribe... Ximu Territory..."

Phillips rubbed the crystal ball’s surface with his pale bone fingers, the soul fire in his eyes flickering and burning faintly.

For undead creatures, the souls of wise beings are the finest delicacies, far more nourishing than the souls of ferocious beasts and monsters.

Among them, human souls, rich in emotion and clear in thought, are the most savory and replenishing.

Next in line are the souls of monsters like ogres and jackal-wolf folk, which possess basic intelligence and wild emotions.

The ultimate soul feast is none other than a Giant Dragon’s soul! Its vast life essence and ancient Dragon Essence could drive any high-ranking undead to madness.

Currently, the Sel Wilderness is filled with smoke and chaos.

But places teeming with intelligent life forms are often strategic locations heavily guarded by kingdoms, hard to provoke easily.

Ximu Territory, on the other hand, is an anomaly.

In the Witch Demon’s perception, it appears like a bright lamp suddenly shining in the dark Wilderness, particularly alluring.

Furthermore, he had previously conducted preliminary investigation and probing to ascertain that the forces guarding Molten Iron Tribe are indeed substantial, with many powerful creature presences, but lacking a sufficiently formidable presence to hold the line against his undead flood.

"Humans, monsters, dragons."

His greedy gaze swept over each figure within the crystal ball, as if he were inventorying his own possessions.

"Not a single one escapes... All lively souls belong to me, none shall be spared!"

"Hehe... Hahaha..."

Phillips’ mouth first burst forth an uncontrollable hoarse and twisted laugh, completely unlike anything a human could emit, but then he seemed to suddenly realize something, his laughter abruptly paused, and then he deliberately restrained it somewhat, attempting to make the laughter more normal.

After transforming into a Witch Demon, he found himself increasingly unable to resist using such spine-chilling laughter.

This is certainly not a good omen.

It signifies his soul is accelerating its descent into darkness, his human aspect being continually eroded by the cold instincts of the undead.

Indeed, transforming into a Witch Demon granted the caster an almost immortal life form.

But the price behind it is unimaginably heavy.

Time is the Witch Demon’s most abundant asset, and also the deadliest poison.

The Witch Demon’s body would incessantly and inversely influence and distort his soul, subtly changing his thought patterns, emotional modes, and behavioral logic.

As time flows.

The human memories, emotions, thought patterns... even his self-awareness belonging to Phillips would be gradually consumed and covered by the undead will inherent to this immortal body, until completely effaced.

Ultimately.

The legendary necromancer Phillips, who once loved the kingdom, studied magic, experiencing joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure, would utterly disappear, replaced by a cold and pure undead Witch Demon, following only the instincts of the undead, pursuing death and souls.

Phillips fears this transformation.

Deep inside, he stubbornly clings to his human identity; turning into a Witch Demon was merely a desperation under the Holy King Sword.

He cannot accept his thoughts being completely altered.

That would mean a second, truly absolute death: Phillips’ death as a human.

Moreover.

He absolutely won’t allow himself to forget that unforgettable hatred.

If the soul were fully transformed, turned to undead thinking, by then, he might no longer grasp the national vendetta and familial hatred, emotions belonging to the living, his vengeance would lose all meaning.

The cold undead logic cannot bear the intense enmity of the human world.

Yet this is an irreversible process.

After all, since the moment he completed the transformation ritual, his life form has been anchored; he is now a Witch Demon, no longer human.

The only hope lies in regaining legendary power.

"As long as I return to the Legendary Domain, my soul essence will be elevated, becoming sufficiently robust to better resist the assimilation of the undead form."

"Though this transformation will still subtly occur, the timeframe of the entire process will be greatly extended."

"I will have ample time to fulfill my revenge against the Lotheren Kingdom, to make Ron’s bloodline pay!"

Phillips, as if comforting himself, deeply inhaled the cave’s cold air filled with negative energy.

Thereafter, he laid down the crystal ball reflecting the image of Ximu Territory, and reached his bone hand into the wide black robe, gently retrieving a bizarre magic staff carved entirely from the pale bones of some unknown creature, with a massive ghostly green gemstone embedded at its tip.

He began to wave the magic staff, chanting hoarse and ancient necromancy spells, his voice eliciting ominous echoes within the cave.

"Oh the bones of those buried beneath this land!"

"Oh wandering lost souls upon this Wilderness!"

"Arise!!!"

"Answer your master’s call! Tear open the decayed shroud! Break free from the earth’s constraints! Return from slumber!!"

Buzz——!

A vast yet invisible, deathly aura-filled mental ripple rapidly spread as he chanted, as he swung the staff, sweeping through every corner of the cave.

The deep and dark underground cave’s already dense and bone-chilling evil undead aura became as thick as substance.

Shortly after.

One point... Two points... Ten points... A hundred points...

Stars of faint, dangerous lights ignited in the cave’s deepest darkness, near and far.

No!

These aren’t lights.

They are the soul fires burning in the eye sockets of undead creatures, the eyes belonging to the undead.

For hundreds of years.

Each time Phillips briefly awoke from slumber, he secretly gathered the mighty remains left in the Wilderness, or deliberately hunted them, transporting them to the depths of this secret lair.

Partly to continually increase the concentration of negative energy here, nourishes himself; partly, he uses necromancy to gradually refine and transform these powerful remains into his obedient undead warriors, silently accumulating the power of vengeance.

He is a Witch Demon, but before this, he was first a Great Mage specialized in the Necromancy School!

True power of necromancers never lies in single combat. Their horror lies in forming an army alone, nurturing war with war, unleashing boundless undead scourge, drowning all daringly opposing enemies with endless skeletal seas and terrifying monsters!

After centuries of secret dormancy and accumulation.

Underneath this eternally bleeding and dying Sel Wilderness, Phillips has quietly amassed an amazingly large, diverse, and terrifying undead legion!

Hundreds of years of patience and waiting, all for today’s resurgence!

"None can stop me! None can!"

"Hehe... Hahaha... Hehe... Ron! Wait and see! I shall not only destroy everything you protect, but also find your resting place, dig up your grave, and convert your remains into the lowest undead, to eternally insult you!"

Phillips’ shrill laughter resounded uncontrollably again, echoing throughout the underground cave.

Along with the gradual cessation of laughter, he lowered the crystal ball reflecting the image of Ximu Territory and continued preparing for the spell ritual, reinforcing and consolidating the newly awakened undead, preparing for the upcoming battle.

To a Witch Demon, a necromancer.

As long as none in the enemy ranks possess the power to break through countless guards and decapitate him, he is invincible.

The dragons in Molten Iron Tribe clearly don’t hold such power.

He will start from Ximu Territory, stirring the undead tide sweeping across the Wilderness, then return to legend!