Chapter 404: The Phylactery
"An ogre's finger, a hydra's scale, a yeti's heart…"
"Soul-devouring grass."
"A banshee's feather."
The lich mumbled to himself, frantically rummaging through boxes and cabinets.
Several bloodied, disembodied hands hovered mid-air, moving like living creatures to help him search for the necessary spell components.
The entire Soulweeper Castle was in motion. Wandering spirits, armored death guards, flying heads, and rotting zombies were scouring every corner at his command.
Orest was now fully convinced—the red dragon had found him!
A being akin to an ancient red dragon was about to descend upon Soulweeper Castle. Even worse, the dragon held his phylactery in its claws. He had to prepare for the worst!
The lich had anticipated the worst-case scenario of his phylactery being stolen.
He had memorized a variety of malicious spells, such as [Wraith's Curse] and [Death's Pursuit], designed to curse the thief and retrieve his phylactery.
"There's still a chance, still a chance—this doesn't mean the end."
"It's just a greedy red dragon."
"Dragons are naturally greedy. Maybe I just need to offer a trivial amount of gold to redeem my phylactery."
He muttered to himself.
"Boom!"
Suddenly, the ground trembled violently. The entire Soulweeper Castle shook as shelves of potions and jars tumbled down, and even the lich struggled to maintain his balance.
Dust and debris fell from the ceiling along with shattered chandeliers.
"W-What's happening?!"
"Impossible!"
"Soulweeper Castle is filled with wards and protective spells! I've placed over a hundred layers of defenses—how could anyone break in?!"
He sensed a fluctuation in the surrounding space.
Furious, Orest's raspy voice roared, echoing throughout the fortress. The disembodied hands trembled in fear, afraid that their master would devour them.
Suddenly, all the undead creatures froze in place.
"You useless fools!"
"This… this is—"
The lich cursed as he turned around, only to freeze in terror, his withered body trembling uncontrollably.
The red dragon had effortlessly torn through the fabric of space, brute-forcing its way past countless wards and appearing majestically in the main hall of Soulweeper Castle. It occupied most of the space, crushing samples, potions, and magical artifacts beneath its massive body.
Vicious enchantments activated automatically. Distorted faces, spectral shadows, and thick black mist attacked from all sides. But with a simple flap of its wings, the red dragon dispelled them.
"Aargh—"
"No, no—"
"Help!"
The curses vanished with mournful wails and agonized screams.
The red dragon looked down at the lich from above, holding an unassuming wooden box in its claw.
—That wooden box was Orest's phylactery, the source of his immortality and the only means of permanently killing him.
Cassius bared his teeth in a sinister grin, his golden eyes glaring down at the lich.
"Orest."
"We finally meet."
"You seem to enjoy watching from the shadows?"
Holding his staff, the lich lifted his head and forced a smile onto his decaying, skeletal face.
"Y-Your Majesty, you know of me? What an honor this is."
"Emperor, this must be a misunderstanding. That tomb was merely a storage site for my phylactery. The traps and beholders were meant to fend off ignorant mortals. A being as magnificent as you wouldn't possibly be—"
"No."
Cassius interrupted.
"There's no misunderstanding, lich. I came here for this."
He toyed with the phylactery in his claws, each movement causing Orest's soul to tremble with fear—just a small mistake could mean total annihilation.
The lich, visibly anxious, could feel his soul quivering inside the phylactery. "Y-Your Majesty, what do you want?"
"We've had no conflicts before, so you must want something."
"Gold, spells, or the fruits of my research—I'll give it all. Just spare me and return the phylactery…"
He spoke cautiously.
Cassius shook his head gently, smiling. "You don't get to dictate the terms."
"Whether or not we've had conflicts doesn't matter."
"The fact is, your existence is a threat—an unregulated power within the borders of the Ember Empire. I won't allow any force that could endanger the empire's security or unleash an undead plague."
The lich lowered his head and responded, "Your Majesty, you're being… too harsh. I've resided in Anzeta for centuries. I don't act alone—I represent the will of the Lord of Bones."
Orest stroked his staff, revealing the pale skull insignia engraved on it, its hollow eye sockets seemingly endless.
The staff carried a fragment of divinity—[Myrkul's Scourge Staff].
The lich tried to connect with the Lord of Bones, the deity who had made him a lich, hoping for divine protection against the terrifying dragon.
"Orest."
The pale skull began to distort.
"Heh."
"Even gods can't interfere within the borders of the Ember Empire."
Cassius sneered as the power of [Imperial Domain] descended, severing the staff's connection to Myrkul and leaving Orest in despair.
Within the Ember Empire, the emperor's authority rivaled that of a god, capable of blocking even divine intervention.
"Lich, stop your futile resistance. I'll give you two choices."
The red dragon lifted his claw, holding the phylactery aloft as Orest's eyes filled with dread.
"Swear allegiance to me, subject yourself to the Ember Empire's rule, and surrender everything—including yourself."
"Or—"
Cassius pressed his sharp claw against the wooden exterior of the phylactery, threatening to pierce through it.
"No—"
The lich let out a desperate cry, collapsing to the ground as terror gripped his soul.
Since becoming a lich, Orest hadn't felt fear like this in centuries.
He knew, without a doubt, that the red dragon was willing to destroy his phylactery.
He knew he would die.
If those sharp claws punctured the phylactery, his soul would be annihilated, and his centuries of accumulated life would be reduced to nothing.
Thankfully, the red dragon halted just before delivering the fatal blow.
Cassius cast a disdainful glance at the collapsed lich and continued.
"Or choose complete obliteration."