"I seem to have already heard the cries of despair, and smelled the sweet scent of fresh life intertwined with fear."
Necromancer Phillips whispered silently, perfectly hiding his withered form within the boundless tide of the Undead Legion, perceiving only the lonely outpost ahead with his mind.
It starts here.
He would use the death energy he had spent hundreds of years accumulating to completely transform the vibrant Ximu Territory into a dead, silent undead kingdom, and then, using this as a base, set off an even more majestic wave of death to sweep across the entire Serel Wilderness.
This was the incredibly beautiful vision in his heart.
However, this greedy delusion was suddenly interrupted by a palpitation originating from the depths of his Soul.
The thick, unyielding, grayish-white mist carrying the scent of decay was violently torn apart, pushed aside, and even instantly evaporated by a force that was overwhelming and incomparably violent!
A huge shadow, carrying a terrifying momentum that made the air burn and distort, crashed down like a meteorite from beyond the heavens between the surging vanguard of the Undead Legion and the third outpost.
More accurately, it crashed with pinpoint precision right into the center of the Undead Legion's densest vanguard formation.
Only then did the sharp, piercing shriek caused by the high-speed tearing of the air, like cloth being completely shredded, finally descend from high above.
Boom!!!
The earth groaned in pain, and a violent tremor and deafening roar exploded simultaneously.
A visible shockwave exploded in a perfect circle, instantly clearing all low-level undead within a hundred-meter radius—whether they were fragile skeletons or stiff walking corpses—as if sweeping away dust!
Countless bone fragments, rotting flesh, and rusted armor shards.
Like toys smashed by an invisible but incomparably huge warhammer, they shot backward radially, and the rising dust mixed with the mist that had not yet fully dissipated, forming a brief, turbid, dome-shaped dust cloud.
The Lich hiding within the Undead Legion was also staggered by this sudden impact, the Soul fire in his skull cavity flickering.
His heart was heavy as he looked ahead.
The smoke and dust gradually dissipated.
A Dragon that could not be judged by conventional wisdom stood proudly in the center of the battlefield.
Even though he was once a Legendary Necromancer with rich knowledge and a broad perspective, he still felt somewhat incredulous when gazing at that Dragon.
Its physique surpassed all of Phillips' knowledge of Dragonkin.
It was so strong that it looked like two Red Dragons standing side by side. The scales, as if cast from steel, were not just covering the muscles, but rather resembled heavy armor growing directly out of muscles that were knotted like steel cables. Each scale was as thick as a shield, covering its entire body in layers, flowing with a hair-raising luster.
Its ferocious Dragon horns, visible through the smoke, wound and coiled, as if they were giant spears capable of tearing the heavens apart.
The tips of its wings were still surging with unspent Qi, their edges sharp, resembling two giant blades. Its thick, long tail had raised Dragon scales that also formed giant blades and spear-like protrusions. Combined with the dense, sharp spines, the entire Dragon did not seem like a creature of flesh and blood, but rather a war weapon meticulously crafted.
Its pair of Dragon eyes, deep black like the night sky, pierced through the pervasive smoke and mist, indifferently scanning the entire tide of the undead. The pressure, invisible yet like a tangible tsunami, instantly plunged the entire noisy battlefield into dead silence.
"A Dragon from Ximu Territory? Never seen one before."
"Looking at these physical characteristics, it seems to be a hybrid of a Red Dragon and an Iron Dragon?"
"What a powerful life aura; the pure strength contained within this body is simply immeasurable!"
Phillips' long-withered heart gave a sudden twitch, but immediately, an even stronger, more greedy desire quickly drowned out his trace of vigilance like poison fire.
With no Vassal Legion accompanying it, did a mere Dragon think it could stop his torrent of undead? Wishful thinking!
More importantly, such an extraordinary-looking Dragon must have a powerful and unique Soul essence. If he could kill it and refine it with necromantic secret arts, he would surely add an undead Dragon general capable of sweeping the battlefield to his command!
"Kill it!"
The cold command was silently transmitted to every undead unit through their mental connection.
The undead knew not what fear was. Upon receiving the Necromancer's supreme order, the Soul fire leaping in their eye sockets turned simultaneously, and countless hollow, dead-silent gazes focused uniformly on that sole focal point of life—the Dragon!
The first to respond to the command was the Death Knight phalanx.
These silent killing machines had been battle-hardened elites in life, and after being reshaped by negative energy in death, their strength and defense were even greater than before.
They were clad in jet-black heavy armor that covered almost their entire bodies, revealing only two points of cold Soul fire beneath their helmets. The nightmare warhorses beneath them breathed out eerie blue flames, and wherever their hooves trod, they left behind flowers of quietly burning blue flames.
"Form ranks! Charge!"
Phillips' mind shifted slightly, precisely controlling the formation changes, while simultaneously casting Spells from a distance. Obscure runes flashed and vanished, bestowing [Greater Bull's Strength] and [Shadow Armor] upon the Death Knights.
Immediately after, fifty Death Knights instantly split into five groups.
Like five black spears, they launched simultaneously from different tricky angles. There were no shouts, only the heavy, muffled sound of nightmare hooves crushing the earth, gathering into a drumbeat of death.
The distance between them was precise to the millimeter, and the trajectory of their charge perfectly sealed off the space for the Dragon to maneuver.
Their thick, long lances were leveled, the tips gathering enough negative energy to pierce city walls. The eerie blue halos connected, forming a net of death covering the Dragon's torso.
Seeing this scene, the Necromancer's lips curled into an ugly smile, and he was very satisfied with it.
Although his Realm had fallen, because he had become a Lich, he understood the logic of the undead better. His control over the Undead Legion not only did not weaken but instead reached a higher level, his command and manipulation akin to some art of writing death.
In his vision, regardless of whether the Dragon chose to meet the attack head-on or dodge, there would always be at least a few lances capable of attacking from the weakest angles.
"Charging a formation alone. Heh, do you think you are a Saint King? Except for a very few perverted existences, trying to contend with an Undead Legion as an individual only leads to a dead end."
"Stupid Dragon, you will soon become my toy."
The Necromancer concentrated his spirit, driving the great army.
The skeletal behemoth, whose size was not inferior to the Dragon, simultaneously took heavy steps like a moving mountain. Its huge bone claws, carrying the whistling sound of the wind, slammed fiercely toward the Dragon's head, sealing off the space above it.
In the air, the figures of the banshees became even more illusory.
They opened their mouths silently—waiting for the moment the lances hit, an invisible Soul shriek would explode simultaneously, coordinating with the behemoth's heavy blow, attacking from inside and out, completely disintegrating the Dragon's resistance.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The ear-grinding metallic clashing sounds, almost overlapping, resounded across the battlefield.
The anticipated scene of the Dragon's scales shattering and flesh flying did not appear.
Lance after lance, infused with negative energy, hit the targets precisely—the Dragon's neck, the flanks of its chest and abdomen, the joints... However, the moment the tips struck, the lances emitted sounds of being overwhelmed, the shafts bending, cracks spreading, as if they had not struck biological scales, but some kind of indestructible divine iron.
The attacks of the few most powerful Death Knight leaders could barely pierce the Dragon scales.
But beneath it, it did not seem to be flesh, but some kind of equally hard defensive layer, and their already much-reduced attacks could not continue to break the defense.
Crack! Crack-crack!
As the Dragon's body made just a tiny movement, the tips of those lances twisted and shattered amidst an ear-piercing metallic scraping sound! The huge reactive force was violently transmitted back along the lance shafts. The arm armor of the Death Knights tightly gripping the lances emitted a harsh groan, and several knights' arm armor, unable to bear the load, directly exploded, and the rotten bone arms inside snapped inch by inch!
The nightmare warhorses let out painful whinnies, rearing up on their hind legs, the eerie blue flames between their hooves flickering violently, nearly extinguishing.
The Death Knight legion's proud destructive charge had failed to even break the opponent's defense!
Almost at the same time, the skeletal behemoth's terrifying bone claws, capable of smashing through granite city gates, also crashed down, the gale raised by the giant claws blowing away the smoke and dust lingering below.
But just as those massive bone claws were about to touch the towering Dragon horns.
The Red-Iron Dragon simultaneously raised its claw and swiped upward, fast as lightning.
Boom—!!!
The Dragon claw and the bone claw collided violently!
There was no stalemate, only a destructive crushing.
The skeletal behemoth's giant claw, pieced together from countless thick bones and reinforced with negative energy, disintegrated and shattered inch by inch like rotten wood the moment it touched the Dragon claw.
Countless shattered giant bone pieces shot outward, smashing a group of walking corpses that couldn't dodge in time into meat paste.
The Bone Behemoth's massive body was forced to stumble backward by this irresistible Great Strength, leaving deep craters in the ground with every step.
In the air, the Banshees shrieked incessantly, their faces twisted and filled with hatred.
However, that shriek, capable of tearing apart a Soul, was like a gentle breeze hitting a wall of bronze and iron when it struck the Red-Iron Dragon's Soul. It failed to stir even a ripple. Within that impossibly robust body lay a Soul equally tough and powerful beyond imagination.
The Red-Iron Dragon slashed with its wings, whipped its tail, and alternated with claw strikes.
The undead creatures threw themselves forward one after another, only to be completely destroyed.
A single simple charge could leave a long trail of emptiness within the massive Undead Legion, creating a floor covered in broken bones and minced flesh.
"So strong, such a powerful Dragon."
"It's not just a half-breed! Could it be a Legendary variant Dragon? Like that Twenty-Four Winged Golden Dragon King?!"
Phillips initially felt the urge to retreat, but the undead creatures' craving for powerful life filled him with greed for the Red-Iron Dragon's body and Soul.
Click, clack.
The broken bones pieced themselves back together, and the rotting flesh turned into terrifying, twisted monsters. The fallen undead rose once more, continuing to surround and kill the Red-Iron Dragon.
Not only that.
Although some undead had died completely, the negative energy dissipating from their bodies merged into the surrounding space. It formed a grayish-white mist that suppressed the living, causing weakness and a gradual loss of reason. This caused the Red-Iron Dragon's movements to slow down, and it seemed as if his mind was clouded, keeping him on the ground to fight instead of taking to the sky.
"Even if this legion is wiped out, as long as I can obtain this Dragon's body and Soul, it will be worth it."
The Necromancer hesitated no longer, maneuvering the Undead Legion to continue besieging the Dragon while slightly changing its tactical strategy.
"Wear it down! Use endless bones to wear it to death!"
"Death Knights still alive, retreat! Bone Behemoth, press forward!"
"All Skeleton Warriors, Bone Shield formation! Zombies, use your rotting bodies to fill every inch of land beneath it! Banshees, constant Soul impact, interfere with its will! I don't believe its power is endless."
The Necromancer's command spread throughout the Undead Legion.
The Bone Behemoth that had just been repelled let out a silent roar.
Ignoring the injury to its broken claw, it took mountain-like steps again, using its massive body and remaining bone arms to slam fiercely into Garros, intending to restrict his movements with pure weight and impact. Two other Bone Behemoths also approached simultaneously.
A total of three Bone Behemoths were pinning down the Red-Iron Dragon, even as they constantly shattered themselves.
At the same time, the dense swarms of Skeleton Warriors began to deform and combine with astonishing efficiency.
Under the Necromancer's precise control, they were not charging chaotically but acting like a precise machine.
The Skeleton Warriors in the front row slammed their huge bone shields into the ground, while the warriors in the back rows stepped on the shoulder blades of those in front, stacking the second and third layers of bone shields, reinforcing and bonding them with negative energy.
In just a few breaths.
Directly behind and on both sides of the Red-Iron Dragon, several walls constructed from layers upon layers of pale bone shields had been erected.
The undead cluster, under the reinforcement of negative energy, seemed to transform into a single entity, as solid as or stronger than steel.
From the gaps between the bone shields, spears of the Death Knights and various weapons of the Skeleton Warriors protruded like a steel hedgehog. They were like mobile fortresses, advancing step by step, squeezing toward the Dragon in the center.
The swarms of rotting Zombies were like the cheapest cannon fodder.
Ignoring the shattered remains of their companions beneath their feet, they hissed and writhed, crazily throwing their rotting bodies at the Red-Iron Dragon's limbs and abdomen. Upon death, they would self-destruct, using corpse poison and pure rotting flesh to defile and slow down those thick scales.
Countless more Zombies climbed on top of each other like an arhat formation, forming a nauseating mountain of rotting flesh.
The Banshees in the sky completely abandoned the idea of physical attacks. Their figures darted through the air at high speed, leaving trails of illusory afterimages. The ear-piercing Soul shrieks, capable of causing instant brain death in living beings, hit the Red-Iron Dragon's head like an invisible, incessant storm, wave after wave.
The entire battlefield was completely submerged by undead creatures.
Looking down from high above, one could only see a sea of grayish-white, writhing madly. The Red-Iron Dragon was completely drowned out.
"It's in the bag, it's in the bag."
Phillips pulled at the corners of his mouth, revealing a smile.
Undead fighting on their own are not powerful, but under his control, when different units coordinate perfectly and are supplemented by various Spell enhancements, it is enough to surround and kill any powerful enemy below the Legendary Realm.
This unique Red-Iron Dragon before him would be no exception. The Necromancer's Soul fire flickered, and his gaze narrowed slightly.
Sizzle! Sizzle!
Under the Necromancer's grave gaze, streaks of golden lightning leaped through the gaps between countless undead. The friction of countless bones could not drown out that impassioned, soaring sound.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The cage formed by countless undead bulged outward continuously, as if struck by the violent bombardment of four giant arms. The negative energy dissipated, and cracks appeared in the airtight cage.
Rip!
A pair of Dragon wings, seemingly blotting out the sky, immediately followed by cleaving through the toughest bone wall. Simultaneously, he spun and slashed, soaring into the sky amidst a cluster of countless bone fragments and rotting flesh.
The Red-Iron Dragon circled in mid-air, most of the scales on his body having fallen off.
The Necromancer did not feel happy about this, because he could clearly see that beneath the target's already shattered scales, there was another layer of black-Red Dragon scales, and it was covered in some rough, crisscrossing cracks.
battle-scarred patterns?!
An ordinary person might not recognize them.
But Phillips, who had once been Legendary, certainly knew the meaning of those patterns.
The Dragon, his body expanded by a large circle and wrapped in golden lightning, soared in mid-air before fiercely crashing to the ground, smashing the surrounding undead into a mess.
At the same time, the Red-Iron Dragon stood upright.
He took a deep breath, lightning flying around his body. His chest, covered in thick scales, expanded violently, and he opened his Dragon jaws.
Golden lightning and crimson flames danced and intertwined between his Dragon teeth.
With Garros's growth and the development of his Frenzied State, the spherical Flame-Lightning Dragon Breath in this state could now turn into a rolling torrent. Although it was not as powerful as the heat-enhanced Breath of Destruction, it was still far stronger than normal Dragon Breath.
Whoosh!
The Dragon lowered his head slightly and exhaled his Dragon Breath.
The Flame-Lightning, formed by the mixture of flames and lightning, erupted from his mouth in a huge fan-shaped torrent, instantly devouring everything directly in front of him.
Sizzle——!!!
The intense sound of vaporization, scalp-numbing and akin to cold water being poured into boiling oil, became the main melody of the battlefield.
Bearing the brunt was the Bone Behemoth. Its massive body, pieced together from countless sturdy bones, was as fragile as a wax figure thrown into a steel furnace in the face of this torrent of lightning and flames.
At the moment of contact, the bones constituting the beast's body melted and vaporized rapidly, like snow under the scorching sun.
The beast that had previously withstood Garros's attacks, constantly shattering and reforming, simply vanished.
Next was the wall of bone shields, constructed from massive amounts of skeletons and reinforced with negative energy, which should have been indestructible.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Like inferior cardboard pierced by a red-hot branding iron, the layers of bone shields were unable to stop the Flame-Lightning torrent. They were melted through and vaporized, and the Skeleton Warriors hiding behind them were vaporized instantly.
The Dragon Breath did not lose momentum. After sweeping away a large circle of undead creatures, this unstoppable scythe of death plowed a terrifying trench into the ground that was bottomless and steaming with billowing white smoke and dark red embers.
Within the trench, all undead, whether skeletons or Zombies, were reduced to ashes.
The ground was scorched into a crystalline, glazed state.
Dealing with these undead, fire-attribute energy attacks were more effective than physical damage.
After realizing this, the Red-Iron Dragon did not stop his actions.
His huge head turned slightly, and that destructive torrent, like a whip of light wielded by a god, began to sweep across as his gaze moved.
Wherever it swept, there was complete purification.
The disgusting, twisted mountain of Zombie flesh? Turned to ashes!
The Banshees circling and wailing in the sky? When the Flame-Lightning swept across the sky, the Banshees' semi-transparent bodies were like thin ice thrown into boiling water; they evaporated completely before they could even scream.
Countless Skeleton Warriors and Zombie swarms were like pencil drawings erased by an eraser under the sweeping Dragon Breath.
Disappearing in patches!
The entire left wing of the Undead Legion was completely wiped out by the Red-Iron Dragon's breath in just over a dozen seconds, leaving a huge, steaming, crystallized zone on the battlefield.
The previous behavior of gathering in large numbers to surround and kill the Red-Iron Dragon had instead caused them heavy casualties.