Harris's demeanor became serious and focused as he began to chant complex and arcane spells. The high-tier casters around him tensed immediately. A legendary lich performing a spell with such solemnity indicated that this was no ordinary magic—it had to be a legendary spell.
The high-tier casters of the Golden Alliance exchanged glances, then simultaneously took action. Some vanished from sight, others swiftly retreated, and some activated teleportation circles beneath them. In such a dire situation, they lacked the courage to face a well-prepared legendary lich.
Just the unintentional, fearsome aura radiating from Harris was enough to instill profound fear, creating illusions in their eyes and rendering them incapable of considering a direct confrontation.
In this environment, where death was rampant and the blood of the dead soaked the earth, the negative energy of death was abundant. Even a standard necromancer would find their powers nearly doubled here, let alone a legendary lich of Harris's caliber.
Simultaneously, the blood-soaked battlefield became eerily still, and the air grew thick and oppressive.
Harris's chanting grew louder, soon resembling the rolling thunder within storm clouds, clear even to the true dragons thousands of meters above.
Finally, the last forceful word of the spell was spoken.
Instantly, the blood that had saturated the ground began to boil and bubble, bones trembled, and the dead opened their eyes, moving their still-warm bodies. The air and earth filled with the scent of death, and spirits appeared in the air, wailing eerily.
Tenth Circle Legendary Necromancy Spell: Realm of the Dead!
Boom!
The sky immediately darkened. Although it was already night, the landscape had been lit by moonlight and stars. But now, it turned pitch black, as if all light had been extinguished.
Below, the roars of undead creatures mixed with the terrified shouts of the Golden Alliance soldiers.
Garon's heart sank.
The scope of Harris's legendary spell was beyond his expectations. Even using his speed boost, he could not escape the spell's range.
"This creature... I may not be able to defeat him now," Garon admitted to himself, taking a deep breath to stay calm.
Even newly born dragonlings, inherently powerful as legendary beings due to their ability to manipulate time, struggled against seasoned legendary foes without diverse abilities.
Legendary beings stood at the pinnacle of existence everywhere. The universe was vast, with many worlds, and legends could traverse them all. But even among legends, there were disparities. A sufficiently powerful legendary being could even make gods wary.
Harris's aura marked him as an unquestionably strong legend. He had remained inactive until almost all the high-tier casters of the various dukedoms had gathered, revealing himself only then and unleashing a domain-like legendary spell, clearly intending to capture or kill everyone here.
"He seems to be trying to overcome the drawbacks of his lich form," Garon pondered.
Becoming a lich, whether through worshiping a god of liches or making a pact with a demon lord of undeath, granted immortality. But everything had a price. In becoming an undead, one's personality could gradually degrade under the influence of necrotic energy, becoming malevolently twisted.
Furthermore, liches were constantly plagued by an insatiable hunger that required a constant influx of souls to quench, merely to sustain their undead bodies. Over time, this could drive a lich mad, causing them to lose their minds until they forgot to harvest souls, potentially leading to their destruction.
Liches did not age, but due to these significant flaws, they were considered only pseudo-immortal beings.
Yet, somehow, after consuming the souls of two high-tier casters, Harris's body had shifted from a corpse-like dryness to a semblance of vitality and fullness.
Garon suspected that if Harris consumed enough souls, he might fully revert to a human form, achieving a truly flawless, immortal lich body.
"According to Duke Thorn, the legendary caster Harris had protected Dimos for over a century and died a few years ago," Garon recalled.
"It was shortly after his death that many dukedoms became restless and began to clash with the Kingdom of Dimos."
"Normally, they would have waited longer, not rushed into conflict."
"This war, which involved all the southern dukedoms, was likely influenced by this legendary lich."
Death, especially on a large scale, produces the necrotic energy and souls a lich needs to increase its power substantially.
There is no better time to harvest deaths than during a war.
Golden Alliance soldiers, Dimos troops, exceptional warriors, spellcasters—all these lives were mere fodder for the already powerful Harris, which would elevate his strength to unimaginable levels.
Garon's gaze flickered as he looked up at the pitch-black sky.
Even with a true dragon's night vision, the surroundings became blurred due to the
minimal light.
Trick of Light!
With a thought, Garon illuminated his surroundings, dispelling some of the darkness with tendrils of light.
Behind him, two red dragons raised their necks and breathed out fiery breaths, lighting up the sky more brightly than any trick of light.
Using this illumination, Garon looked down at the gruesome scene below and inhaled a breath of deathly cold air, flying even faster.
Flesh split and bones lay bare as white skeletal figures emerged from pools of blood and gore, silently picking up weapons and attacking any living beings nearby.
The already dead soldiers of the Golden Alliance and Dimos, enveloped in auras of death, stood once more, growling and attacking the surviving Golden Alliance forces.
In the air, several large grey portals hovered, with countless pale ghosts flying out, continuously shrieking.
Additionally, a multitude of undead creatures, drawn by the scent of death, roared and crowded together, squeezing out of portals from other planes into the material world.
Zombies, skeletons, nightmares, vampires, death knights, necromancers—even undead dragons and a basilisk made of stone emerged.
These summoned creatures from other planes seemed to receive a unified command, attacking the high-tier casters trapped within the Realm of the Dead.
The death magic filled the Realm of the Dead, isolating and repelling other elemental energies, leaving only a trace amount.
The Realm of the Dead also carried an effect similar to a dimensional anchor, causing teleportation spells to fail and forcing those hidden to reveal themselves.
The high-tier casters trapped within struggled to access elemental energies, relying solely on their personal magic to fend off the assaults of the undead.
Meanwhile, the discarded flesh writhed as if alive, emitting strands of blood-red light that gradually turned to a lifeless gray. This light, like swallows returning to the nest, flowed towards Harris, standing high upon the ironstone city walls, and entered his skin.
Countless souls of the dead also felt an invisible pull, gathering like a torrent towards Harris, entering his eye sockets.
Surrounded by bloodlight and souls, Harris wore an unrestrained smile, slowly spreading his arms, raising his head, and half-closing his eyes as if embracing the world of death before him, celebrating his own rebirth.
His body was slowly, but visibly to the naked eye, transitioning from the grotesque form of a lich back to human.
The rapidly rising aura of death altered the weather, making the clouds shift and change.
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