The Red-Iron Dragon stood at the bottom of the giant crater, beneath his feet the massive remains that no longer moved.
He slowly exhaled a breath of scorching air, the glowing red color of his iron-like scales gradually fading back to a black-red hue, like metal that had cooled after high-temperature tempering.
Billowing heat waves surged from the gaps between his scales, dispersing and evaporating the bone-chilling cold negative energy that permeated the air.
Immediately after, his aura rapidly declined at a visible rate.
Upon those dragon scales that were originally indestructible, like tempered steel, scars now abounded—fine lines cracked from the overload of the Crimson Lotus State, and striking wounds torn by the Skeletal Giant's claws or corroded by the Lich's insidious Spells.
In short, he now looked heavily injured, his aura withered, appearing exceptionally weak.
"Hey, do you have any more trump cards or hidden tricks up your sleeve?"
The Red-Iron Dragon bared his massive maw, revealing a weary smile, and said to the Lich imprisoned in his claws, "Look, I've paid a quite painful price to defeat you. I'm so weak right now, I'm practically fragile."
"So, if you have any methods left unused, go ahead and use them. No need to keep them hidden anymore."
Fragile?
From his perception, the other's aura had indeed weakened significantly, far from the hopeless dominance of before.
However, any means Phillips could still use had already been exhausted in the previous battle.
If he truly had any hidden trump cards, he wouldn't have fallen to the point of being held in the other's claws like a chick.
He felt that with the combat instincts this Red-Iron Dragon had displayed, it was impossible for him not to understand this.
Those words just now were merely a victor's condescending mockery of a loser who had completely lost the ability to resist.
His entire body was tightly bound and imprisoned by the scorching and majestic Dragon Qi, making him completely unable to move.
With the Lich's own frail body, at this moment, the other only needed to exert a little pressure with his claw tips to crush this form, which had taken hundreds of years to condense, into powder.
"...You win."
After a long silence, the Lich Phillips finally spoke hoarsely, his voice filled with the despondency of accepting his fate.
Garros had not won through any schemes or trickery, but had fairly and squarely crushed the Legendary Domain Phillips took pride in with absolute power in a head-on confrontation.
Since that was the case, he was utterly defeated and could only accept reality.
After saying those words, the pride that once belonged to a Legendary human and the ruthlessness of a Lich undead seemed to vanish from his haggard and hideous face simultaneously.
Replacing them was a hollow calm.
He forced a twitch at the corners of his mouth, pulling the remaining withered flesh on his face into a human smile that looked worse than crying, though it appeared incredibly eerie on his skull-like face.
"Great Dragon, I see near-infinite potential and a future within you."
"Can we... reconcile?"
"I am willing to pay a corresponding price, one that will satisfy you, in exchange for the chance to continue living."
The reason and calculation from his human days now held the absolute upper hand; Phillips temporarily set aside his dignity and chose the most realistic path to survival.
Garros lowered his massive dragon head, staring at the prisoner in his claws.
"Are you very afraid of death?"
He said, "As far as I know, you Liches who enjoy toying with Souls hide your little lives in a phylactery. Even if I crush you to pieces here, you should be able to crawl back out of a box in some dark corner."
"However, you act as if you are terrified of total extinction, without any of the confidence a Lich should have."
The Soulfire in Phillips' eye sockets flickered weakly as he replied in a low voice, "Not all Liches possess a phylactery."
Garros narrowed his eyes and asked, "The process of creating a phylactery is indeed tedious, but you were once a Legend, yet you couldn't even prepare a life-saving phylactery. Isn't that a bit too embarrassing for a Legendary powerhouse?"
The Lich shook his head slightly, his skull making a faint grinding sound.
"I once fought a fierce battle with the Holy King of Lothern, and in the end... I was narrowly defeated by his sword."
He concealed the fact that he was actually swiftly beheaded by the Holy King with thunderous momentum after his true identity was exposed, saying in a voice full of vicissitudes, "Before that, I never intended to transform into a Lich, so naturally, I never made the corresponding preparations."
"Unfortunately, after the battle with the Holy King, my injuries were too severe, and my Soul was on the verge of dissipating."
"To cling to life, I had to hurriedly transform into this hideous undead form."
"In the centuries since, the Lothern Federation has been at its peak, its influence spreading everywhere. I didn't dare expose my existence easily, so naturally, I had no chance to refine a phylactery in peace, nor could I collect enough powerful Souls to recover and strengthen myself."
"It wasn't until recently, when I heard the news of the Holy King's fall and the Federation falling into the chaos of civil war, that I finally decided to end my hibernation and step out of my hiding place."
At this point, the Lich's voice paused.
He raised his hollow eye sockets, looking at the massive dragon head close at hand, his tone becoming extremely complex: "And then... as soon as I came out, I met you, another terrifying fellow who, like the Holy King back then, can single-handedly crush an Undead Legion."
First being slain by the Holy King and forced to transform into a Lich.
After enduring hibernation for centuries, he finally got a chance to see the light of day again, only to run into this Red-Iron Dragon and end up with the same unlucky fate.
Phillips felt deeply as if he were being ruthlessly toyed with by fate.
"I see."
Garros remained non-committal about this explanation, neither asking for details nor questioning its truth.
He asked simply, "Then, what price are you willing to pay to trade for your life?"
The Lich responded immediately, his tone appearing exceptionally sincere.
"I am willing to sign the strictest Soul Contract with you, to pledge my loyalty and become your most faithful servant and Vassal."
"Please believe that a Necromancer who once stepped into the Legendary Realm and even fought the Holy King is a rare and precious treasure, even for a powerful dragon like you."
"The experience I've accumulated, my vast sea of knowledge, and the various powerful Necromantic Spells I've mastered... all of this will be at your disposal, helping you achieve great things."
As he spoke, the Lich's Soulfire flickered imperceptibly.
Those claims about loyalty and not having a phylactery were, of course, complete lies.
As a being who had once reached the Legendary Realm and whose Soul essence had already undergone a transformation, even though he was now scarred and weak to the extreme, his Soul Core remained incredibly resilient, containing an essence far beyond that of an ordinary Lich.
An ordinary Soul Contract?
Its binding force on him would be negligible.
His sole purpose now was to deceive this Hybrid Dragon, who seemed powerful but whose wisdom, in his eyes, must be limited.
As long as the other was careless or conceited for a moment and accepted his loyalty, he could not only preserve this Lich body that had cost him so much effort—avoiding the massive price of recongealing it—but also follow this powerful Red-Iron Dragon legitimately.
Just imagine.
When this dragon raised a storm of blood in the wilderness and killed countless powerful beings, those strong, resentful, fresh Souls... would all become nourishment for Phillips to grow stronger.
He would be like a maggot on a bone, absorbing the feast of death brought by the dragon in the shadows, quietly growing stronger—
When he regained his strength or even reached the next level... that would be the moment he turned on him, completely transforming this stupid, powerful Red-Iron Dragon into the strongest Undead Puppet under his command.
In his eyes, the strength of this Red-Iron Hybrid Dragon was indeed incredibly powerful, exceeding his expectations.
But he absolutely did not believe the other's wisdom could rival his own.
Neither purebred Iron Dragons nor Red Dragons were known for their wisdom, and this hybrid's violent combat style and arrogant posture perfectly fit the definition of a brute.
And Phillips, when he was alive, was famous for being cunning and resourceful.
Even after transforming into a Lich, with his human thinking distorted and made paranoid by the erosion of Necrotic Energy, he still instinctively displayed that cunning deeply rooted in his Soul when faced with a life-or-death crisis and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.