Chapter 383: Are You Waiting for Me? (Part 3)

  "I've been waiting for you, you know?"

  When Ethan charged into the pitch-blackness that represented the Lich King, he heard these words. He froze.

  It wasn't just these words that stunned him, although the words themselves were enough to do so.

  The earth-shattering arrow shot by Gru with the Phantom Divine Bow had torn open this darkness, which was as substantial as reality. He plunged forward. No matter how terrifying the scene within this darkness, no matter how monstrous the Lich King was, he was prepared. But he saw nothing terrifying or dreadful. He only saw a young man, entirely gray, standing in the center, who woodenly said these words to him.

  The surrounding pitch-blackness had closed again. But in the center of this blackest black, the source of all the dark aura of the sea of the dead, it was not black at all.

  There was nothing abnormal here. The darkness merely formed a sealed space around it. From the outside, it was a blackness beyond black, but the center was as calm as the eye of a typhoon. And it was a true, pure, a near-nothingness calm.

  A person entirely gray stood in the center, with a suit of armor formed from gray smoke coalescing on his body. His expression, his gaze, were as empty and void as his surroundings, but other than that, he didn't seem particularly abnormal. Except for the faint aura emanating from the black sword hilt in his hand, which extended to the dark barrier around them, he didn't quite match the core of this endless sea of the dead, the Lich King, who was said to destroy all things.

  He was different from when he had first appeared in The Radiant Citadel. It wasn't just a change in appearance; his presence was completely different. The bone-chilling blackness that devoured everything was gone, as was the imposing aura that shocked and terrified all living things. All that remained was the same emptiness and void as the surroundings.

  Perhaps this was the true essence of "death". The so-called terror, the so-called cruelty, the so-called blackness, were in fact all just projections from the hearts of living beings.

  If not for the aura coming from the black sword hilt in his hand, Ethan would have truly thought the person before him was just a void illusion. He couldn't even rouse his fighting spirit, like a hunter who had mustered all his courage, prepared his mind, and written his will, ready to hunt a lion, only to find he was facing just a portrait.

  It wasn't just this feeling of weightlessness; this person standing before him truly gave him a sense of nothingness. It was as if there was an emotional black hole that physically existed there, making all his emotions, all his impulses, all his motivations vanish without a trace.

  "I knew you would come, so I have been waiting for you," the Lich King said hollowly. "I can feel it now; all of this is guided by fate. So I am here, waiting for fate to bring you."

  "Fate? I've heard that word many times, but it only gets more and more boring, especially now."

  Ethan was more talking to himself than to him. He had no interest in chatting with this opponent, whether he was the Lich King or someone else. Before he charged in, he knew that the people he left outside would be facing the Necromancers. In the time it takes to say a single word, perhaps a hundred warriors were already dying.

  Words are just a process, but what he needed here was an outcome, not a process.

  "Regardless of the fate you speak of, I only know that I am here because I chose to be. I came for an outcome." He took a deep breath of the endlessly empty air, filling his chest, and it felt as if he was refilling himself with fighting spirit and strength. What he inhaled deeply was not just air, but also all the will and the very source of all power from the depths of his body and soul. He raised his blade, pointing it from a distance at this person who had become the Lich King.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Either you die, or I die. It doesn't matter which outcome. Come, let me see the fate you speak of." Ethan's voice was already hoarse. He wasn't just making sound with the air he inhaled; all the emotions and all the power from the depths of his body, mind, and soul had surged out, stirring within him.

  It was unknown whether it was because he had charged into this space or because it had sensed his will, but the Robe of the Lich Lord had long clung to his body. It seemed every fiber had merged with his capillaries, becoming one with his body. From the outside, it was no longer a seemingly ordinary robe. Rhombic horns and protrusions began to appear on it, like a fierce beast finally revealing its claws and horns.

  Perhaps it was because he was facing this endless void, perhaps because he was finally confronting the reality that he might have to die, or perhaps it was this faintly visible fate, but everything surging from the depths of his consciousness became more and more intense. Although it was only an instant, scenes from the past flashed through his mind with incomparable clarity, connecting and cementing into a single force.

  I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I want you to die. Let it all end.

  A roar suddenly burst from his mouth, echoing in this utterly empty space as if tearing it apart. Ethan became one with the blade in his hand and the robe on his body, transforming into a phantom shadow. He charged toward the Lich King with all the power he had unleashed and condensed, intending to use this tangible force to tear this seemingly intangible enemy to shreds.

  Outside this central void, the dark aura was slowly fading. Half was because of Gru's arrow, and half was because of the giant black shadow that had suddenly appeared from behind.

  Immense, strange musical notes came from the black shadow, then echoed through the space. It was not any known language, yet it was more majestic and inscrutable than any language. The vast desert actually began to echo like a small room. The echoes did not dissipate, but instead continuously reverberated and overlapped. Countless tiny blue sparks began to appear in the space once filled with the dark aura. All the remaining members of the coalition fell to the ground, clutching their heads and writhing in agony. Only a very few could still stand amidst this strange, immense wave of sound.

  In the distance, the tide of undead slowly approaching came to a complete standstill. The undead were gradually crumbling under this grand sound.

  At the very center of this sea of the dead, any elemental magic was originally powerless against the deathly aura of The Black Star. The ubiquitous, heavy black aura not only drowned all life; all elements were likewise submerged. Even the Archmages in the coalition had their casting ability reduced here to below that of an ordinary mage. But this power, which was clearly that of a magical incantation, still raged and rampaged without restraint. The dark aura was gradually dissipating within this incantation, shrinking back into the darkest mass at the center.

  "Moriel? Master Sandro, you really went and did it..." The flames in Vedenina's eye sockets flickered like a candle in a hurricane, about to be extinguished at any moment. The moment she saw this figure, she understood what had happened.

  Only the Dragon Language magic of an ancient dragon could break through the barrier aura of The Black Star like this. And on the entire continent, there was only one dragon capable of casting this spell: Princess Moriel the Black Dragon, sealed by Archibald beneath Nighon.

  The Necromancers behind the Lich showed no reaction, their faces just blank, appearing even more apathetic than the Lich, who was already undead. The Lich King was so close to Diya Valley, the blade of The Black Star had been activated. The brand of The Black Star within their bodies had taken effect. All their original rationality had been obscured. They were now something between a Wight and a Lich, between a living being and an undead creature.

  This was the inevitable fate of a Necromancer, the path Archibald had set for them. But Sandro, at this final moment, had chosen a different path.

  The Lich suddenly turned around, the flames in her eyes flaring up intensely. The Dark Dragon she sat on opened its giant maw, spewing a sky-covering torrent of green corpse fire toward Gru and everyone below.

  But the fire stopped halfway through its spray, and all the sounds echoing in the space suddenly stopped as well. All the blue sparks in the space converged around the green corpse fire and the Dark Dragon. The spewed fire then froze in mid-air. The next instant, the green fire, along with the entire body of the cyan dragon, began to disintegrate.

  With an ear-piercing shriek, the Lich led the other few Necromancers to jump down to the ground. By the time they landed, the Dark Dragon had turned into a sky full of fragments and vanished into the void. Even the surrounding aura of The Black Star could not preserve its form.

  "Is this the soul of Lander, imprisoned in The Black Star? Your spell makes me rather sad, little Lich girl..." The Black Dragon arrived in the blink of an eye. Its massive figure shrank and transformed as it descended. By the time it landed, she had already become the form of the black-clad woman with fiery red hair. She looked at the Lich, and the other Necromancers behind her, then nodded casually and said, "For a human, you are quite strong. In terms of magical power, you're only a little weaker than Archibald. However, I really have no fondness for the undead, so all of you can go die."

  Moriel's voice still maintained the vast majesty of a dragon. Although the effect of the Dragon Language magic had dissipated, not many in the coalition could still stand up. Especially the orcs; even the strongest Ogre among them was now no different from a frightened rabbit. Even when facing the endless undead, they had not been afraid, but now they were trembling. This was the nature of beasts, the instinctive fear of a being far more powerful than themselves.

  "Don't tell me such unfunny jokes. Your dragon's might is useless against us." Only the Lich and a few Necromancers did not seem afraid. Although the Dark Dragon had been defeated, and they were facing the most powerful living being on the continent, Vedenina still let out an owl-like laugh. "Before the great Lich King, what are you?"

  "The Lich King? You mean this thing?" Moriel glanced at the pitch-black mass and smiled. "Do you think just any random person holding the hilt of The Black Star can become the Lich King?"

  She turned to Gru and smiled again, "Come on, kid, let me see how much you've improved. First, let's take care of these insects' skeletons. Later, we'll go and twist that guy's head off together."