Chapter 152: The Undead Calamity

Sniffing the scorched and decaying scent in the air, Garon watched as Future Garon gradually disappeared, suddenly filled with anticipation.

"When can I reach that level?"

"To wield time as easily as eating and drinking."

Garon's eyes shone brightly, his mood surging.

Future Garon could directly control and affect the Time River, making Garon feel far behind. His own time-related magical abilities couldn't be used at will, only in a fixed manner, according to instinct.

Staring blankly at the steadily flowing Time River for a while, Garon let out a long sigh, then withdrew his gaze and scanned his surroundings.

The wind-dried skeletons covering the land cast a lifeless gray hue over the ground, with death energy swirling around. In just a moment, Garon noticed some skeletons, stimulated by the death energy, igniting naive soul flames in their eye sockets, mechanically and stiffly trembling.

"It won't be long before this becomes a paradise for the undead."

The Stone Tomb Serpent Dragon, remaining in the prime material world, slithered its body and flew into the air, looking down at the gray plains below, speaking softly.

When Harris died, a vast amount of death energy was released, lingering in the air like thick lead clouds. Before that, the deaths of hundreds of thousands had already made the land fertile for the growth of the undead.

Countless deceased, influenced by the realm of the dead and Harris's residual magic, might soon form an energy vortex connecting to another world filled with death energy, attracting extraplanar undead creatures, brewing an undead calamity.

Both the duchy forces composing the Golden League and the Dimo Kingdom will be devastated by this war, both suffering heavy losses, unable to recover for a long time.

Whoosh! The powerful flapping of dragon wings sounded.

After Harris's death, the paralysis effect dissipated, allowing the four chromatic dragons to regain their mobility.

They looked rather bedraggled, their scales covered in dust and dirt, and with fine cracks from falling from high altitudes, appearing disheveled.

Fortunately, Harris's later focus was entirely drawn by Garon, sparing them a finishing blow.

The eyes of the few dragons were exceptionally bright, looking at Garon with a gaze as if they had witnessed a legend.

Their gaze mainly focused on the two rings of black scales on Garon.

"Respected Time Dragon, it is my honor, Rhoel, to pledge allegiance to you."

The Red Dragon bowed its head, its voice full of awe.

The female Red Dragon did the same.

They had decided to serve Garon on their way to the lava demi-plane, and now knowing Garon's identity, what might have been driven by interest now included a measure of genuine willingness.

Beside them, the Black and Green Dragons exchanged glances.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the two evil dragons also bowed their proud heads, saying with awe, "Respected Time Dragon, Black Dragon Helret (Green Dragon Akra) pays its respects to you."

Like the undead dragon, the Black and Green Dragons, although expressing respect for Garon, didn't immediately lower their status to become followers upon learning his identity.

For true dragons, noble status can inspire respect, but to make them submit without force or the promise of benefits is nearly impossible.

Otherwise, the dragon gods of the outer planes wouldn't have remained lesser deities for so many years.

The two high-ranking spellcasters who survived also flew over, looking down at the desolate plain covered in bones, their faces grave as they sighed, then said, "Lord Garon, 7th-ring transmutation school high-ranking spellcaster Frederic (8th-ring enchantment school high-ranking spellcaster Krichens), thank you once again for saving our lives."

"We will serve you faithfully for ten years, according to the contract, and hope you will honor the contract and grant us our freedom after ten years."

As the most mysterious legendary dragon species, the title of Time Dragon was shocking.

But high-ranking spellcasters are not ordinary people; they have their independent thoughts, intelligent brains, and their logic of action, not swayed by Garon's identity into heartfelt loyalty.

Most powerful spellcasters do not worship gods, considering them merely powerful beings who initially seized control of the world.

Spellcasters believe that mastering the ultimate secrets of magic allows mortals to make gods fear.

Their view of the Time Dragon is similar.

Time, though mysterious, is also within the scope of spellcasters' research.

The transmutation school has a 9th-level spell called Time Stop.

It allows the caster to move so fast that to outsiders, it appears as if their own time has stopped.

This 9th-level spell isn't purely about time, but it already touches the threshold of time, borrowing the power of the Time River.

As for legendary spellcasters, like Harris, who can sense the existence of the Time River and have certain countermeasures against time spells.

Back to the point, Garon looked at the two high-ranking spellcasters, calmly saying, "I always keep my promises."

Pausing, he continued, "I seek your loyalty, not for you to fight for me or do difficult tasks, but for the knowledge in your minds."

Future Garon used time abilities effortlessly, but he also mastered legendary-level transmutation spells, indicating he never ceased exploring the path of magic, reaching the level of a legendary spellcaster.

Legendary spells, developed by legendary spellcasters, can indeed make gods uneasy when powerful enough.

This is a path of infinite possibilities.

Krichens and Frederic were slightly stunned, their faces brightening with a glow, smiling, "The door to truth is always open to you."

"May the brilliance of magic protect you."

Meanwhile, the Black and Green Dragons hesitated, looking at Garon's expression, slowly backing away, saying, "Respected Time Dragon, we have matters to attend to and must leave now."

This was fear that Garon would force their allegiance.

Having witnessed the legendary Time Dragon and the might of time, the Black and Green Dragons were excited but still unwilling to serve without significant benefits from Garon.

Black and Green Dragons have little use in the lava demi-plane.

Garon was indifferent, saying, "Leave then."

The Black and Green Dragons nodded, their wings fluttering, ready to leave.

At that moment, the female Red Dragon, Grelsha, frowned, as if suddenly realizing something, and said sternly, "Wait!"

The Black and Green Dragons turned their heads in confusion, looking at Grelsha.

Grelsha snorted, with sparks flying from her nostrils.

Her face turned fierce, and she spoke harshly, "Those damned Dimo people hired us to fight, only to plan on sacrificing us on the battlefield."

"Hmph, this cannot be overlooked, the Dimo royal family must pay five times, no, ten times the compensation to make up for our injured bodies and spirits!"

At this time, Dimo had lost almost all its high-ranking combatants, and its army was decimated here. If several adult true dragons were to descend, they had no choice but to appease them with money.

Grelsha looked at Garon, her fierce expression suddenly turning to awe, whispering, "Lord, the damned Dimo people, for deceiving true dragons, must pay the appropriate price."

"Please allow me to go to the Dimo capital to seek justice for myself."

Rhoel nodded in agreement, saying, "Right, as Grelsha's partner, I too will go to demand an explanation for Grelsha!"

While speaking, Rhoel revealed a greedy expression, as if already fantasizing about how to extort the Dimo royal family.

Garon thought for a moment and finally, under the expectant gaze of Rhoel and Grelsha, said solemnly, "Let's go together. I'm curious how this legendary lich managed to control all of Dimo's high-ranking spellcasters without anyone noticing."

High-ranking spellcasters aren't fools.

Although powerless against legendary beings, it's implausible that a dozen high-ranking spellcasters became puppets without anyone realizing.

Considering the odd measures taken by the Dimo Kingdom when faced with an invading army, it seemed like they were sending soldiers to their deaths, creating an environment filled with the undead and death energy, maximizing the legendary lich's abilities.

This man, as Dimo's chief mage and teacher to many members of the Dimo royal family during his human life, Garon didn't believe the bloody war lacked the covert support of the Dimo royal family.

Had Harris completed his immortal lich form, not just the south, but few on the entire Noah Continent, a relatively small prime material world, could contend with such a state of Harris. With such a legendary being's protection, regardless of how severely the army and other high-ranking spellcasters were damaged, Dimo could rise again.

Even further, becoming the first human empire on Noah Continent wasn't impossible.

"If it weren't for me also being trapped in the realm of legendary spells, forced to use Time Reversal, he might have succeeded."

Garon shook his head imperceptibly.

Harris was incredibly unlucky.

However, the strength Harris displayed left a significant impression on Garon.

This legendary being's power wasn't due to the lich form, but because of Harris himself, who, as a human, was already a dual-school legendary spellcaster, renowned across Noah Continent.

A typical legendary lich couldn't match his strength.

"Now, it's time to settle accounts."

"Dimo royal family."

Garon put the deceased Harris out of his mind, his eyes slightly narrowing as he looked towards the devastated Ironstone defense line.

The capital city of the Dimo royal family lay in that direction.

After cleaning the battlefield and collecting appealing equipment and magical items, five true dragons, one serpent dragon, and two high-ranking spellcasters, as the only survivors, crossed the Ironstone defense line.

Several hours after their departure, the sun rose, casting bright and beautiful sunlight across the world.

However, a dense layer of death energy, like dark clouds, obscured the sunlight above the Baki Plains, casting the land below in gloom.

On the charred and gray wasteland, countless corpses lay scattered.

Under the erosion of massive death energy, pale skeletons suddenly trembled, their eye sockets slowly igniting with candle-like soul flames.

Those who died in the war were gone, but on their remaining bones, new life slowly emerged.

Dimo Kingdom, the capital city, Kraken.

A seemingly prosperous city, covering a vast area with a square outline, surrounded by tall and majestic walls, filled with towering towers and wide, clean streets lined with lush evergreens, casting dense shade.

Pedestrians on the streets, mostly dressed in bright and elegant clothes adorned with precious metal accessories, seemed to live better than those in the main city of Moxia.

They walked and talked, their faces bearing the smiles of kingdom citizens.

However, upon closer observation, one could see that beneath their bright appearance, their smiles were somewhat forced, their eyes tinged with a hint of worry, their steps hurried, not relaxed.

Many were carrying large and small boxes, fleeing the city with their families.

The situation in Dimo was clear to its citizens.

Although the city had yet to be ravaged by war, according to frontline reports, those damned duchies forming the Golden League had already set foot on the Baki Plains, battling Dimo's last defending army.

If the last Ironstone defense line were breached, this millennium-old city might no longer exist.

Although they were fellow humans, they didn't hope the Golden League Army would come with kindness and mercy.

Human nations waging war, upon gaining a significant advantage and breaking through the enemy's walls, often allowed their troops to plunder and revel in violence, a frequent occurrence.

Soldiers, due to brutal and harsh training, coupled with the life-and-death nature of war, were mostly in a state of repression and tension. This was a reward for warriors who had faced death, allowing them to vent their negative emotions through violence.

A portion of the population, due to long-standing beliefs, still held an inexplicable confidence in Dimo, believing Dimo would suppress the rebellion and securely sit on the throne.

But most, aware of the situation, were trying to escape the falling tower.

"If Lord Harris were still alive, those damned duchies wouldn't dare invade Dimo like this."

"If the Ironstone defense line is broken, we small nobles are the first targets of looting!"

Inside a luxurious carriage, a viscount dressed in silver-adorned noble attire gritted his teeth, urging the coachman to speed up.

The carriage wasn't alone; several simpler vehicles followed, carrying most of the viscount's belongings.

Suddenly, he heard a commotion outside.

Before the viscount could peek out, the fast-moving carriage suddenly halted, the magic-blooded wind horse collapsing, causing the following carriages to crash into it due to inertia, tumbling over in a whirl, people and horses scattered.

"Lowly coachman, I'll kill you!"

The viscount howled.

He clawed his way out of the shattered wood, his face scratched by sharp splinters.

But just as the viscount barely emerged from the wrecked carriage, he suddenly felt his heart tighten, as if an invisible hand had grasped it, slowly tightening, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Simultaneously, the bright sunlight in the sky was obscured.

A massive shadow enveloped the viscount.

His pupils contracted, stiffly raising his head.

Several imposingly large true dragons, along with a ferocious-looking serpent dragon, silently flew overhead, their dragon might unhidden, crossing the sky above Kraken, followed by two figures wrapped in magical radiance.

"Dragons!"

The viscount's face paled, sweat beading on his forehead, his body stiff.

Many others shared his plight.

The five true dragons, exuding rolling dragon might like a storm, headed straight for the Dimo royal court.

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