Ashen Dragon

The lich knelt on the ground, ghostly flames flickering in its eye sockets. That emaciated body covered in a decayed robe trembled violently.

"Your Majesty, but I..."

"No buts."

Cassius interrupted him again, applying slight pressure with his claw.

The wooden box began to deform slightly, making a "creak" sound that sent a shiver through the lich's mind and caused its body to tremble even more.

"Submit, or die. You have no other choice."

"To be honest, I would be glad to kill you."

Cassius's indifferent voice echoed in the devastated hall, and with each word, the atmosphere grew heavier.

"Think about it. Your decayed soul, sustained for centuries by necromantic sorcery—imagine the emotions in that instant as I destroy it. What a hideous sight it would be."

The red dragon suddenly tightened his unoccupied left claw.

"Crash!"

With a crisp sound, one crystal lamp after another shattered in Soulcry Castle. The imprisoned wraiths within cried as they fled.

"No!"

"I, I'll submit!"

"Don't kill me!"

The lich's body shrunk back sharply, appearing somewhat comical. He truly believed his life box had been crushed—there was no sign of the composure he had shown not long ago, confident of victory.

Those who pursue immortality fear death the most.

The last time Orestes felt such terror was three hundred years ago, when he discovered he was about to die of old age.

During that period, he spared no effort to seek ways to extend his life, ultimately finding a method to transform himself into a lich from Elder of Misfortune Milco's tomb.

He succeeded.

To live eternally, he abandoned life and embraced the path of undeath, becoming a lich.

But this was not true eternity. A lich's life box is their greatest weakness. Once it is destroyed, the lich's decaying soul would perish along with it—an ever-present fear for Orestes.

Therefore, for centuries, he exhausted almost all his efforts to protect his life box and continuously collected souls to fulfill Milco's task.

But now, everything had been destroyed.

The Dragon Emperor who ruled the North, with overwhelming strength, effortlessly annihilated everything he held dear, clutching his most cherished life in his claw.

The lich knelt on the ground, curled into a ball, muttering incessantly, "I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die..."

"Please, I don't want to die..."

All past memories surfaced within his soul: his proud days as a mage, the debauched times spent in the castle, the fear when he realized his impending death, and his cautious life after becoming a lich...

To him—

Existence was meaning.

Being alive was everything.

If he couldn't exist in the world, then nothing held any significance.

In pursuit of immortality, he could turn beautiful and kind elves into banshees, could sacrifice his most loyal servants to the evil god, and even abandon his body entirely to embrace the undying form of a lich.

Given this...

Then... to submit to a giant dragon, to offer everything to it, didn't seem like an unacceptable choice.

In the face of existence, freedom was trivial—at least to the lich Orestes.

He raised his head, the hollow sockets still flickering with eerie green flames, full of endless pleading. He lifted the [Scepter of Bones of Milco] high, offering it like a devout follower presenting a gift to a deity.

"Your Majesty, I am willing to submit to you."

"As long as... you let me continue to live in this world, I am willing to offer Bewildering Valley, Soulcry Castle, everything to you."

Cassius showed a smile, stepping forward, slightly spreading his wings, casting a vast shadow that engulfed the entire lich.

"Very good, Orestes."

"You have made the right choice."

The scepter floated up, landing in Cassius's claw.

In comparison to the red dragon's massive body, the scepter looked almost like a toothpick.

It was the so-called "Divine Artifact" nearly obtained by players in a previous life. After the players killed the lich, Milco's skeletal hand reached out from the void to reclaim the scepter.

But now, Anzeta was part of Cassius's empire. Even a deity couldn't easily touch it.

He carefully examined the scepter, observing its entirely pale structure composed of vertebrae segments.

At the top of the scepter was the skull, representing Milco's holy emblem, the skullcap hollowed out with a pitch-black negative energy magic stone embedded in it.

[Scepter of Bones of Milco]

Quality: Legendary

Creator: Feroz Bradford

"Acknowledge me, fear me. My embrace extends to all, patient yet reliable. Death will always find you. My hand is everywhere—no door I cannot enter, no guard can impede me. —Lord of Bones, Milco"

Effects:

[Undead Scourge][Summon High-order Undead]

[Undead Scourge]

9th-level Necromancy

Releases powerful necromantic energy, raising all nearby skeletons to serve under your command.

[Summon High-order Undead]

8th-level Necromancy

A higher version of necromantic summoning, capable of creating shadows, soulbinders, wraiths, revenants, and other various undead creatures.

Cassius toyed with the scepter. He didn't understand necromancy, yet he could feel the surging negative energy within—it was indeed highly valuable.

"Orestes, I see your sincerity."

The lich breathed a sigh of relief, cautiously asking, "Then, Your Majesty... since I have become your subject..."

"What about my life box?"

Cassius glanced at him, chuckling lightly, "Since you are offering everything to me, doesn't 'everything' include your life box?"

"Or are you..."

His voice suddenly turned icy.

"Trying to breach our contract?"

The lich, terrified, immediately prostrated himself, repeatedly declaring, "It's a misunderstanding! Your Majesty! I absolutely didn't mean that!"

"That's good."

"Haha, you should feel honored. Without me, your laughable tomb would eventually be breached, and your life box would be destroyed."

"Rest assured, I have placed your life box in an absolutely safe place, under my personal control. No one can destroy it—"

Cassius intentionally slowed down his speech.

"Unless you defy my orders, provoking me to act personally."

The threat in his words was glaringly obvious, but the lich dared not show any resistance.

Orestes could only force a sycophantic smile on his sunken face, responding accordingly:

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Your kindness... I will never forget."

Being unearthed, having his life box taken, and getting beaten to his lair, only to end up expressing gratitude—the "victim" being an exceedingly evil lich.

—One can only say this is indeed a magical world.