Like the Desolate Tomb, Crimson Wasp, it cannot stay away from the Land of Crimson Rot, needing to return every three days to devour its power to sustain its vitality.
This no doubt placed a tight constraint on the Dragon Egg.
Shaking his head, he severed the Dragon Egg's devouring and looked toward the central area, to the crack he had anchored as the Gate of Space.
Inside, a thick death energy was emanating.
He took a deep breath and walked straight through the Gate of Space.
In no time, he reappeared in this dim world that exuded a chilling aura.
Undead Plane, City of Death.
This was originally the lair of the Dragon Lich, which Lear occupied and renamed the City of Death.
It certainly matched its role.
He floated in mid-air above the city, the intense power of death sensing an unusual aura, immediately began to madly corrode at it.
If he were an ordinary person, he might be corroded into an undead within a few hours.
Exhaling deeply, he looked down.
