The disturbance in the river of time did not cause much reaction among the creatures.
Not all beings have the ability to perceive the existence of the river of time.
In the realm of the dead, all the high-ranking spellcasters, true dragons, and countless types and numbers of undead creatures were unaware of what was happening at the moment.
Except for Garon and Harlis, whose excitement turned into cautious seriousness.
He sensed a dangerous aura, and his powerful spirit as a dual-school legendary spellcaster, along with his understanding of the fundamental rules of the world, allowed him to perceive the changes in time.
The constantly flowing time seemed to become a rotating circular vortex, where the past, present, and future intertwined.
Harlis no longer hesitated. The moment he sensed the anomaly in time, his lips moved again, uttering spells.
His expression serious, the ghostly blue flames in his eyes danced rapidly, while he slowly extended a pale finger, now with some flesh and skin, pointing it towards Garon.
Ninth Circle Legendary Necromancy Spell: Death's Finger!
A Ninth Circle instant death spell from the School of Necromancy, a relatively rare legend, shares similarities with the Command Death but comes with certain costs. Upon hitting its target, it delivers greater lethality than Command Death, completely killing the opponent from spirit to flesh.
Whoosh! The pale finger shot out, carrying rolling deathly aura, streaking through the air as a dark light, instantly covering a kilometer distance, appearing at the center of Garon's forehead.
However, the pale finger, almost touching Garon's head, halted in its tracks, frozen in front of Garon, the cut flesh and white bones clearly visible.
Garon looked up.
A super-giant true dragon, made entirely from the tangible forces of time and measuring a hundred meters from head to tail, with ripples of time flowing over its body, quietly observed him.
Silver-gray scales, six irregularly distributed rings of black scales, four backward-curving dragon horns, and a pair of gleaming profound platinum dragon eyes.
This seems to be the real future me, Garon realized.
The future Garon before him seemed not to be from another parallel timeline but his own future.
It was an intuition.
Huff! The future Garon exhaled.
The pale, deathly aura-enshrouded finger turned to ash in an instant as if it had gone through countless ages in that breath.
"This is..."
The sudden change made Harlis's face turn pale.
He looked at the hundred-meter-long silver-gray dragon, feeling an extreme danger.
At that moment, Harlis recalled a rumor about time dragons.
It's said that time dragons are never alone...
Time dragons can directly summon their future selves to the present. Without god-like power, it's best not to harbor evil thoughts even against a lone dragonling.
Harlis had previously disbelieved in such against-the-heavens methods; after all, legends tend to exaggerate, and nobody had truly seen a time dragon.
But now, seeing with his own eyes, although still reluctant to believe, he had no choice but to accept it.
The flames in Harlis's eyes danced wildly.
In the spreading black fog, he took a deep breath, recklessly absorbing life essence and souls, not even allowing himself a moment to buffer. Unable to erase the emotions and memories carried by the many souls, Harlis's gaze gradually became chaotic, changing incessantly.
However, his aura became stronger, his body more muscular, his skin glowing, his appearance changing almost every second.
The future Garon ignored the commotion caused by Harlis.
He looked at Garon, who was severely injured, weakened, and dispirited, with a strange smile on his face, speaking in a deep voice: "Being severely injured is a rare experience for both of us. Take a good look."
"Such opportunities will become less and less as time goes by."
Garon was speechless for a moment.
The future Garon's words seemed to be for his own good.
After all, for a time dragon, being severely injured is rare. Thinking about it, what he said seemed to make sense, but damn it!
Garon's face darkened.
This experience, as rare as it may be, he didn't want to go through this terrible feeling!
It's best if it never happens again.
When hit by Command Death, there was a moment when he thought he was truly going to die, his mind enveloped by the terror of death, filled with emotions like unwillingness, anger, and regret.
"I know what you're thinking."
"Trust me, you'll understand what I mean later."
"Life is long and dull; it's always good to find a little fun."
Your fun, is it watching your past self get beaten up?
Garon's face darkened.
The future Garon moved, disappearing from the spot, and then appeared in front of Garon, looking at him with his scales dull and cracked.
"This look, really terrible, but also quite interesting."
Noticing Garon's displeased gaze, the future Garon smiled slightly, extending his huge dragon claw towards Garon.
"Watch closely, this is how the power of time is used."
The power of time flowed out like water, condensing into a semi-illusory ring at his wrist.
The ring, made of time power, was adorned with numerous mysterious runes that Garon couldn't understand.
Under Garon's curious gaze, the runes lit up, and the wheel of time turned counterclockwise.
Instantly, the dragon scales on his body underwent rapid changes.
Cracks healed quickly, and the gray-white scales gradually returned to silver-white.
A mass of invisible dark air, carrying a large number of enchantment spells, quickly retreated from Garon's body and dissipated into the air.
The dragon's body, which had been on the verge of death, revived with vitality, reversing back to its peak condition.
In just the blink of an eye, all injuries on Garon's body vanished.
Garon, feeling his unharmed body, took a few steps, flapped his dragon wings, and shook his tail.
The injuries that had been troubling him seemed to have been an illusion, as if they had never happened.
He looked at the future Garon, opening his mouth to ask about his future development path and such.
But a burst of crazed laughter suddenly came, interrupting Garon.
He looked in the direction of the sound.
A hurricane seemed to rise within the rolling black smoke, dispersing in an instant, revealing the figure within.
A young man in a black robe, with a healthy complexion, robust body, and handsome features appeared in Garon's view.
Except for the deep blue ghostly fire burning in his pupils and the constantly changing, mad expressions and eyes, this young man looked like an ordinary spellcaster in his twenties.
Healthy and full of vitality.
It was hard to imagine this was the appearance of a lich.
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