Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

Page 79

Chapter 248

　Flames circulated within the spiritual entity, forcibly maintaining its stability, barely managing to withstand the pressure that originated from an unknown source yet was omnipresent.

　Casaloz's more than 50,000 layers of the undead of Elena's inhabitants, which it had annihilated, began to weaken. It had no time to think about what the layers of the blazing flames were or what it had taken from those "life" individuals that originally belonged to the heavens of the realm. It could only focus on the mysterious connection established between the spiritual entity and the physical body after the passage door opened, and then break out of the demiplane and enter the astral plane to fly forward with all its might.

　The psychic entity created by the Dragon's Treasury is not a true psychic entity; it seems to possess all the external physical properties that a physical body in Casalos should have, and within Casalos's known scope, it is almost indistinguishable from a physical entity. This means that when the psychic entity flies through the astral plane, it still needs to contend with the chaotic gravitational interference, especially since there is no wind in the astral plane—which is actually quite strange. Wind is simply the phenomenon of air movement; unless it is in a sufficiently small, enclosed space, wind should exist as long as gaseous matter is distributed in the space.

　Air is distributed throughout the astral plane, and both the airflow over the wings during flight and the unobstructed breathing seem to prove this; Casalos has never doubted it. However, this first flight of the psychic entity outside the boundaries of the Dragon's Treasury gave it a completely new and strange feeling.

　Aside from the omnipresent pressure, the resistance of the oncoming air blowing against his body, the vortexes flowing over the wing surface and being swirled into dense vortices by the unique abilities of the upper and lower wing membranes, the turbulence stirred up by the irregular wingtips, and the tail vortex that flowed along the scales to the tail tip, Casalos still felt that something was missing... Yes, those air currents stirred up by his flight were also wind, but they disappeared without a trace once they left his body.

　Flights that rely on air—or more accurately, on flowing air, or "wind"—continue to proceed normally.

　Some rules seem to break down in the astral plane, or perhaps...

　Casalos suddenly had a thought. It closed its eyes and stopped looking up at the magnificent silver rivers of the astral plane, and stopped paying attention to the stars shining in the endless distance. It simply flew forward, guided only by its own body.

　It recalls certain knowledge and imagines that the place it is traveling in is not the astral plane that it is used to recognizing, but the space that is almost a material vacuum, where only distant stars, after crossing the vast space, exert a weak and negligible gravitational pull on small-mass objects.

　A feeling of suffocation suddenly struck, and with it disappeared the oncoming drag, the cyclone flowing over the wing surface, the turbulent airflow, and the tail fossa that flowed away with the tail section.

　The omnipresent air of the astral plane simply vanished!

　It reopened its eyes, and the silver river that stretched across the endless darkness remained. The information it received visually impacted its brain, instantly restoring Casalos's preconceived notions of the astral plane. The winds that had only existed close to the surface of its body returned, and its breathing became smooth again.

　"I probably understand..."

　Then it began conducting more experiments, closing its eyes to eliminate vision—the most information-rich sensory experience—and imagining its surroundings. Sometimes it succeeded, but most of the time it failed.

　"So, the environment of the astral plane is actually idealistic?"

　Summarizing his several successful experiences, Casalos discovered that the key to successfully altering his environment lay not in imagining the compatibility between the environment and the astral plane, but in his level of focus. He could not only fly through the astral plane as if in space, but also swim in lava, or dig through mud... as long as he could eliminate distractions and focus on imagining the real feeling of acting in those environments.

　All beings in the material plane… no, all intelligent life forms capable of entering the astral plane, have their understanding of the astral environment based entirely on their own imagination!

　When the first astral traveler from the Prime Material Plane entered the Astral Plane, it naturally assumed that the Astral Plane had air and therefore could breathe normally. Based on its initial account, subsequent travelers naturally assumed the same, and the Astral Plane truly manifested as they imagined. When masters using psychic powers established communication with the Astral Plane and glimpsed its vastness, they naturally regarded it as a wondrous realm connecting all planes, thus giving rise to long-distance teleportation and even interplanetary travel routes through the Astral Plane.

　This is precisely why the astral plane has a strange, subjective "frozen" time.

　But in fact, it seems that even the gods have never discovered the secrets of the astral plane?

　Thanks to the spiritual entity created by the Dragon Vault, which doesn't belong to the rules of "this world," Casalos sensed certain attributes closer to the essence of the astral plane. Unraveling the hidden secrets of the astral plane is still a long way off, but a journey beyond his own limitations is more than enough.

　He summoned the four higher elements of wind, fire, water, and earth to completely envelop himself, shutting down all his senses and shielding himself as much as possible from the interference caused by the "world" of the Kingdom of Heaven, which was built on the four elements. Then he entered a state of deep meditation, stirring up the inexplicable connection with his own body, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep that transcended age, without thought, desire, or interest.

　Seemingly trapped in eternity, yet also seemingly only for a moment, the magic that sustained the four higher elements subsided, and the inherent mechanisms of the elemental realm pulled them back to their own world, equivalent to the gravity of the prime material world appearing below.

　Casalos opened his eyes, and the silence was broken along with the light that came into view. The noisy sounds of various construction machines and behemoths building things up at full speed, the meaningless cheers of the kobolds when they saw the dragon, and then the air that came into view, and the forward base that was right in front of him.

　"Ha, now I can teleport to the Astral Plane without Iron Dawn? This must save most of the Blazing Flames..." The psychic entity landed on the platform, and the guards, who were on high alert, immediately cleared a passage to the place where the main body was sleeping.

　Casalos shook its head in dissatisfaction. It felt the flames within its psychic body suddenly disappear by half, and the excitement it had felt after figuring out some of the astral attributes and learning astral teleportation faded: "Sigh, I was overthinking it. It seems the Archbishop had foreseen this as well, or perhaps the consumption was calculated based on absolute distance and had nothing to do with my travel method? I don't understand."

　The psychic entity crossed the astral plane to meet the main body. Half of the flame layers remained. The process of transferring the flame from the psychic entity to the main body would waste nearly ten thousand layers of flame... The archbishop's estimate of 30% was exactly the worst-case scenario.

　6. Ceremony

　"Is gravity also an 'imaginary' construct?" Casalos, in its psychic form, uttered a new question as it stepped across the ground. The flames were still dissipating, and time did not allow it to dwell on it. It could only take one last look at its slumbering body within the confluence of fire elements and quickly transfer the flames according to the information it had received earlier.

　Casalos had seen this many times before in the Dragon Vault room-clearing dungeons, observing his own "body" from the perspective of another version of himself. The battle where he ground down Grommash Hellscream was so intense that the entire battlefield was filled with his own corpses, and there was even a complete corpse killed by an instant-death spell in the floating city of Elena… those were all corpses. The perception possessed by the split soul controlling the fake Grommash Hellscream felt more like an extension of his body; the feeling of looking at the real body was somewhat like having eyes growing from its tail and staring at him—very strange.

　And now, with consciousness completely detached from the physical body and residing in a kind of spiritual entity, looking at one's living physical body with a complete or even higher form of perception, it's honestly quite novel.

　Blinking his outer eyelids, Casalos controlled the psychic entity to lie down beside his main body, assuming the exact same posture, then silently chanted "Exit," leaving everything to the Dragon Treasury.

　Awakening normally from a deep sleep, the psychic entity beside him was still there, but it had completely lost its original physical attributes, transforming into a psychic entity in the conventional sense of Faerûn, with shimmering lines outlining its translucent form.

Chapter 249

　The three-dimensional image was so clear that when you stretched out your wings to touch it, you simply passed straight through without feeling any obstruction.

　All the layers of Blazing Flame have been transferred to the main body, totaling over 15,000 layers. The 300-odd layers gained from bombing demons during the war of Damara are negligible. Casalos has finally brought Blazing Flame to a practical level in reality—its practicality standard is very high. If the Blazing Flame damage from two or three breaths stacked together can't kill an ancient dragon, then how can it be considered practical?

　However, the biggest gain from this mission was not actually the number of Blazing Flame layers, but the spiritual entity that had taken a large amount of Blazing Flame to reach the main body.

　The spirit-like entity is a product created by copying the information of the original Casarosz from the Dragon Treasury. With the support of the Dragon Treasury, it possesses the exact same power as the original Casarosz!

　Due to Casalos's withdrawal, the psychic entity lost most of its external physical properties and became an invisible and illusory form, thus avoiding the fate of being crushed by the rules of the celestial realm. However, it still retains most of its previous power: except for the part that needs to rely on a physical body and the transferred flames, this psychic entity has everything Casalos had!

　Of course, because the psychic entity also possesses the attribute of being from another world, certain rules of the celestial realm will increasingly repel it, and the time it can "stay" will remain limited. Furthermore, this otherworldly attribute brings another problem: if Casalos were to actually use it in battle, a single banishment spell might be fatal. Therefore, making it practical will require considerable effort.

　First, a physical entity is needed that conforms to the four-elemental material rules of the celestial representation layer of the realm, can bear the enormous energy of a psychic entity, and can establish a transmission protocol with the psychic entity to serve as a body. Coincidentally, Casalos had long ago created a suitable thing: a fake Roar, which housed Casalos's fragmented soul and was created using an ancient red dragon body combined with an astral construct and mechanical structure.

　Beyond the physical body that can support it, for a psychic entity to truly unleash its power, its "otherworldly" attribute must be fundamentally eliminated. In technical terms, the network layer of a psychic entity differs from that of the celestial realm, thus requiring the reconstruction of a network protocol that conforms to the rules of the celestial realm—even though Casalos had seen these terms in his previous life, he was still completely clueless about them, let alone whether their definitions were the same as similar terms he had occasionally encountered in his past life.

　Fortunately, the information from the Dragon's Treasury wasn't a manual piled up with obscure technical jargon, but rather the abstract content directly pointing to the answer. The answer told Casalos that there was a ready-made network protocol available. Even more coincidentally, this protocol was also related to Roar.

　When Casalos first killed Grommash Hellscream within the astral realm designated by the Dragon Vault, he obtained a sort of loot—not quite a full-fledged prize, but the soul of Grommash, the ancient red dragon. Casalos wasn't entirely sure what it was used for; he had originally planned to release it in a good place, hoping it would return to nature and create a protective haven. Little did he expect it would come in such a crucial role.

　Casalos then made an unfounded connection to the fact that the gods, the hell of Bathor, and the bottomless abyss all have an urgent need for "souls," which might suggest the importance of the "network protocol" of the soul in the rules of the celestial realm.

　That's not a level Casalos can reach right now; he only needs to consider the present.

　With the most important hardware and protocols sorted out, all that remained was the tedious ritual and the preparation of the "spellcasting materials." Thanks to Asgras, Casalos had long ago raised a pack of loyal and capable dogs who had already prepared everything it needed.

　More than two hundred half-dragon kobold warlocks surged into the hall where fire elementals converged, followed by strong ogres and troll laborers carrying large boxes.

　Under the dogs' command, the laborers took out different materials from the boxes and arranged them in various places in the hall. In the center of the hall was a mountain of treasure, from precious works of art to ordinary natural jewelry, gold coins, silver coins and copper coins from various countries of the Faerûn continent, expensive magical equipment, a wide variety of magical props, and even alchemical potions and poorly preserved inferior herbs. Thousands of tons were piled up haphazardly, like a garbage mountain, burying the psychic beings and the fake Howling Frog.

　Forty-one drow elf death row inmates were driven to the outer perimeter of the treasure pile. With a command from the dog presiding over the ceremony, more than 70 tons of pure red dragon blood flowed into the hall through a pre-dug channel, and a "formation" unlike anything commonly seen in Faerûn quickly appeared.

　The warlocks began chanting like an orchestra, their tones rising and falling, sometimes soaring, sometimes somber, sometimes ethereal, all accompanied by frantic spellcasting. Coupled with the scalding blood flowing across the ground, it resembled a sacrifice by an evil god. The terrifying and eerie atmosphere reached its climax when the grey dwarf grinned as he ripped a drow's heart from his back and knelt to offer it as a sacrifice to the pile of treasure.

　The red dragon blood that outlined the magic circle burned like dragon breath, then rose into the air, gathered into a stream, and flowed towards the 41 drow hearts, enveloping them. Then, using these hearts as nodes, fine threads were drawn out and intertwined to wrap around the treasure pile, pulling it, along with the buried fake Howler and the spirit-like entity, off the ground to form a giant, blazing cocoon.

　Thump, thump!

　A deep, rumbling sound, like thunder, echoed through the underground hall as the giant cocoon throbbed.

　"Tsk tsk, if some outsider saw me like this, they'd definitely think I was some kind of evil big boss..."

　7. The Duck Law

　Let alone being seen by "mortals," even if the gods glimpsed such an "evil" ritual, they would at least have to give Casalos the title of a follower of an evil god.

　However, the forward base was located in the Astral Plane and had comprehensive isolation measures. No mortal possessed the ability to spy on it, and the gods were banished to the mortal realm. Those presiding over and participating in the ritual were all dark creatures, and aside from Casaloz's incessant mutterings, no one could falsely accuse him of any crime. The ritual's sinister nature ultimately stemmed from Casaloz's inability to grasp its fundamental principles; he could only rely on a black-box approach—a kind of rule-based fantasy—based on abstract information output to achieve his goal…

　The flames burning in the giant cocoon quickly died down, and the rhythmic throbbing subsided. The dragon blood lost its crimson hue and solidified into a transparent gel, revealing the scene inside. As if eroded by billions of years, the once glittering and radiant treasure had rusted and weathered into dark slag, enveloping some slumbering creature.

　With a thought from Casalos, a massive dragon claw emerged from the rubble, easily tearing open the cocoon. Then, its outstretched wings, head, tail, and remaining limbs completely burst open the giant cocoon, sending thousands of tons of treasure transformed into mud that splashed and filled the entire hall, obscuring all vision.

　The kobolds chanted to the ogre trolls to open the ventilation ducts, unleashing a storm that swept away the dust, revealing the colossal form.

　Two pale, twisted, sweeping horns; rows of horn-like spines covering the top of the head, cheeks, and lower jaw; a bird-like snout; protruding serrated teeth; and flames dancing in the nostrils and eye sockets, making it appear even more ferocious. Dark, thick, and broad crimson scales, lava-ball-shaped eyes, and the smell of sulfur and pumice proclaimed its identity as an ancient red dragon—how perfectly normal, the one originally wrapped in the cocoon was just a fake Howling.

　In fact, the red dragon that emerged from its cocoon still retained the original size and appearance of the old roar, and the old and ugly scars on its face were still lifelike.

　Garrosh, who once carried the spirit of Casalos, has now been transformed into a living, breathing ancient red dragon, no longer just a construct that could only serve as a pretense.

　Casalos now possesses a true avatar of the Primordial Red Dragon!

　This Primal Red Dragon clone retained Roar's extraordinary size and corresponding basic attributes. Its strength was 60% greater than a regular Primal Red Dragon, its constitution was more than four times stronger, making it even more resilient and destructive. Unfortunately...

Chapter 250

　The red dragon did not acquire Grommash Hellscream's legendary spellcasting abilities; it only possessed the level 19 arcane spellcasting abilities of an ancient red dragon, as well as other spell-like, supernatural, or special abilities.

　In addition, the Carved Skin Dragon, Elemental Master, and Bloodscale Frenzy advancements that Casaroz obtained through the Dragon Vault were not fully reflected in the Primordial Dragon Body, only retaining an average level of 3. The number of Blazing Flames transferred to the main body was not even one. On the other hand, the Mage level that Casaroz obtained through normal learning, as well as the Arcane Divine Gift class after combining with the Primordial Power, were fully extended, and the effects of the Primordial Power Talent Tree were also fully present... Isn't that enough?

　If placed on the continent of Faerûn, this clone would be enough to rank among the most powerful dragons in Faerûn!

　"With Roar's body and Roar's dragon soul, does this count as me possessing Roar? I guess so... Tsk, not counting the Blazing Flames, my main body isn't even as strong as my clone. Is this the power of spending money?" Casaroz and the Ancient Red Dragon's tails were sticking up to the sky, and they were still muttering in unison, "It's a pity that it takes more than 35,000 layers of Blazing Flames to take out a quasi-spiritual body from the Dragon Treasury. I simply can't afford to spend money a second time."

　It was certainly not satisfied, because its enemies were still stronger than it.

　With a snap of its iron beak, the Primordial Red Dragon separated its synchronized consciousness, turned around and paced around, then called to a half-dragon kobold who was kneeling on the ground, instructing it to lead the way to the Prime Material Plane passage within the base, maintained by psionic energy.

　The nightmare of the northern dragons, Grommash Hellscream returns to the Material Plane. He is stronger and more terrifying than ever, and has become a minion of Tiamat, the Mother of Dragons. The blasphemous power of the Dragon Queen flows through his veins. Who will be the sacrifice to mark his return?

　Casalos, still in the underground hall, shook his head, gesturing for the numerous half-dragons to rise. He then ordered Svent to gather all of Dragonlord's combat forces at the Astral Forward Base. Dragonlord, having undergone nearly a decade of massive construction in preparation for the turbulent year's disaster, was about to restart its war machine. The half-dragons, dragon veins, dragon servants, and the dragon slaves were already itching for war…

　On the Tinkol Grassland, Isis, a dark-skinned, white-haired hot girl, looked at the tornado "playing and frolicking" in the distance with a melancholy expression, barely managing to set up an area-of-effect protective spell to protect dozens of grassland people.

　She didn't hide in the underground steel shelter, nor did she stay behind in Desera, where disaster relief and emergency supplies were readily available. Instead, she walked across the vast grasslands of western Tindor, which did not belong to the Dragon Territory, doing her best to help the people of those grasslands.

　Thanks to her eyes that could see the warp and weft of the magic network, Isis developed an exceptional control over spells far beyond her spellcasting level. Even in the shadow of the magic network's failure and the chaos of magic, she still retained a considerable spellcasting ability and a sufficiently high spellcasting success rate. Roughly speaking, the magic power consumption for casting spells doubled, and the original near 100% success rate decreased to about 30%. It would take about six parts of magic power to cast a spell three times to succeed once.

　It looks incredibly difficult, but compared to other spellcasters, it's already a miraculous feat. Just the ability to detect the mutation of her own spells in advance and counteract it sets Isis apart from other spellcasters, because she doesn't need to worry about being harmed by the mutated magic she releases.

　The departure of the gods and the cocooning of the magic network were a devastating blow to the entire "magic" system of Faerûn. After all, Faerûn's magical items also relied on the magic network to function; not only were spells cast by spellcasters susceptible to backlash and mutation, but magical items were also subject to the same fate. This upheaval essentially reduced the inhabitants of Faerûn to a world without magic, and ironically, it also triggered natural disasters in the high-magic world.

　Without magic or steel barriers, how can mortals wielding swords withstand the calamities caused by raging magic?

　Isis's magic has saved thousands of grassland people, and the strong half-dragons have sent them back to Desera. The name of the grassland saintess has begun to be sung.

　“I can’t see anyone else, let’s call it a day.” After checking her own magical state, Isis said to Eisen, who was guarding behind her. The latter nodded and made a gesture. The half-dragons checked the steel cables and safety belts again to make sure they were secure, and then prepared to pull up the windbreaks and set off.

　"Wait, did you hear that?" Isis suddenly called out, as she heard what sounded like cries for help coming from the center of the storm.

　Leave

　I can't stand coughing anymore...

　Please grant me one more day; I'll try to update as much as possible in the next two days to make up for it.

　barley

　8. Queen of Vairakis

　Beneath the eternal silver river that outlines the sky, a colossal six-armed corpse floats silently. The head of this unidentified deity has long been petrified, and its lower body has been shattered into tens of millions of floating islands of varying sizes, clustering around the giant corpse, with the occasional figure of a red dragon disappearing among them.

　A dense cluster of buildings of varying styles were piled up on the chest and abdomen of the giant corpse, forming a bizarre city. Tall, humanoid creatures with pale skin, dressed in extremely ornate yet disheveled clothing, led chained slaves, walking in twos and threes along the streets. They would occasionally stop to carve or paint something on a building, or randomly destroy a house, inviting their fellow humans to release their slaves for a deadly battle or a gruesome spectacle…

　Hundreds of psionic magical ships were moored and crisscrossed the six outstretched arms of the giant corpse. Two thick iron chains extended from its eye sockets, securing a drifting obsidian fortress to the corpse, which retained parts of its humanoid skull.

　This is the astral city of Tunaras, the home and final stronghold of the Githyanki.

　Several astral portals opened, and a magical ship adorned with unique decorations emerged from each of the silver, swirling gates, docking at the natural harbor formed by the giant corpse's arm. A varying number of Githyanki disembarked, looking around with curiosity, as if entering Tunaras for the first time.

　It wasn't just a vague appearance; they wore only simple armor, without any ornate decorations. Each of them carried a head resembling a purple octopus—the head of a mind flayer they had personally severed during their "coming-of-age ceremony." This head was their pass to the giant city, which granted them the Queen's approval to reside in. This was their first time entering this astral giant city known as the home of the Githyanki.

　Thirty-four young people from different outposts around the world independently completed their mind flayer hunts and joined the Great City as the Queen's subjects—a truly joyous occasion. Even Queen Vairakis, residing deep within Whispering Palace, would leave her skeletal throne to personally preside over the ceremony welcoming the new generation. The Githyanki, eager to catch a glimpse of the Queen's "beauty," would not miss this grand event; the bustling streets served as a warm-up—though their lives were usually just as extravagant and decadent.

　However, their queen, Vairakis, was not in a good mood. Her cold voice was filled with anger: "Why are there so few people?"

　Beneath the throne forged from the bones of a Mind Flayer, the three rulers—Chairman Yeda, Chief Zamkaras of Kra, and Warlord Zechariah—trembled and bowed their heads, unable to look directly at the Queen's increasingly withered and terrifying face.

　But the Queen's question had to be answered. At Speaker Yeda's signal, a scribe behind her had to step forward to bear the Queen's wrath: "Your Majesty... as expected, there should be at least 500 newlyweds completing their coming-of-age ceremony this time, but..."

　"Just what?" The Queen narrowed her eyes, a negative energy flickering in her dry, shrunken eyeballs.

　"It's just a bit of an accident... A huge change occurred in the world of Toril this year, making it impossible for magic ships to pass through, so the newcomers who came from there will have to wait until the next time to reach the Great City."

　"Very good, you have done well. I grant you the right to ascend."

　The clerk trembled slightly; it knew it was finished, but dared not show it, silently retreating behind Speaker Yeda, contemplating its "ascension."

Chapter 251

　A moment of silence for the future—the lower classes of the Gith Yankees, including the knights, believed that ascension was the honor of going to the kingdom of the Gith Queen. However, the scribe who often accompanied the Speaker to the Lich Queen knew very well that so-called ascension was nothing more than becoming food for the Lich to increase her power.

　Perhaps it should have switched allegiance to the Warlord long ago? I heard it was actually a rebel against the Lich Queen's rule, dying a heroic death in the rebellion—better than being devoured without a trace. Or perhaps fleeing to Mark City was the best option for every Githyanki? But that would only make them a stray dog.

　Regardless, it's too late to say anything now. The clerk looked at Zamkaras, the male lich chief of Kra, who was standing next to the speaker with a "sparkling gaze": The Lich Queen will not allow any prey to escape, and the absolutely loyal lich lackeys Kra will carry out her orders without reservation. This six-legged male lich has his eye on it, and it has nowhere to escape.

　I shielded the Speaker from this calamity, and I only hope that Yeda will keep his promise and inscribe my name on the silver sword, so that my glory may live on forever…

　Regardless of the complex thoughts churning within the clerk's mind, the preparations for the ceremony proceeded smoothly. The speaker devised elaborate, ever-changing procedures to elicit a smile from the cold, ruthless lich;

　The war lord was responsible for maintaining order and security, and deliberately left some loopholes to allow dozens of "resistance armies" of different races and slaves, of varying sizes, to take advantage of the situation. Unfortunately, these inferior fellows never amounted to anything, and those who participated in the operation were always taken advantage of by Zechariah, who saw that things were going to fail.

　But the various races' "resistance army," knowing they were doomed to defeat, still tirelessly supported Zechariah's secret rebellion—even I, a scribe, knew Zechariah harbored ulterior motives, so how could the Lich Queen not know? It's truly strange—their reasons for supporting Zechariah, besides being able to obtain his protection and live in seclusion in Tunaras, were primarily that if they were to sacrifice themselves in Zechariah's rebellion, this war lord would deliberately ignore the original world of the sacrificed in future large-scale raiding wars.

　The six-legged male lich and his cronies, the Kraks, were tasked with monitoring the former two and all other "living" beings in Tunaras, ensuring the stability of the Queen's rule. Due to Zechariah's protection of the rebels and his constant behind-the-scenes machinations, the Kraks rarely performed their duties well. However, the Kraks carried some secret plot of the Queen's, so she generally didn't punish these "inanimate objects" too harshly—perhaps it was precisely because they were inanimate that they earned the lich's absolute trust.

　The Lich Queen Vairakis was also satisfied with the "balance" maintained by the three powerful ministers who checked, guarded against, and fought against each other under her clumsy political rule.

　In short, the "Upper Council" in the palace was peacefully discussing the upcoming grand event, except for the world where the injured scribe had achieved his goal.

　However, a sudden event shattered this joyous scene. A heavily wounded knight broke through layers of notifications and entered Whispering Palace, collapsed before the Bone Throne, and with his last strength sent a telepathic message before suddenly dying.