Chapter 402: Lich's Diary (III)
If one were to翻开 Orestes’s Diary, they would discover the source of his arrogance—the next Tomb Chamber was a true sanctuary of the dead, a realm no living soul dared trespass, not even a Legendary being could casually breach it.
“New Era 1407, December, clear.”
“This is my second year as a Great Immortal. I have broken free from death’s chains—everything feels so exquisite.”
“Yet… there remains a flaw.”
“I needed a better method to protect my Fate Chest. So, from the Black Market, I purchased thirty-five female elves. I cursed them—transforming them into banshees.”
“I watched them struggle, scream, their flesh rot, their minds collapse—until death transformed them into undead horrors. Twenty-seven succeeded.”
“Ah… such mesmerizing Undead. They no longer feel joy—only the endless torment of existence. Yet they still cling to the beauty they once knew as living beings.”
“Fortunate indeed. My experiment succeeded. I sealed the remaining twenty-seven banshees inside a bottle. They will be imprisoned forever, forever wailing in eternal sorrow—this is the 【Bottle of Wailing Banshees】.”
“Hah… now, no one shall ever leave this place alive.”
【Wail of the Banshees】
This spell was known among mages as one of the nine most terrifying Ring Spells—its shriek could generate immense negative energy, capable of tearing open a person’s Spiritual Soul.
Yet Orestes had not merely cast it—he had frozen it in place, embedding it deep within the innermost chamber of the Eternal Tomb, as a safeguard for his precious Fate Chest.
Orestes stared at the image projected upon the Crystal Skull, his hollow eyes fixed on the man approaching the next chamber. His voice, dry and cracked, whispered like sand through bone:
“Feel death, you insolent Mortal Entity.”
“Hah… hah… hah…”
“This is the Eternal Tomb.”
“I only ever heard its name and title in my past life. Now, I stand within it.”
Kai Xiusu brushed the dust from the stone door, his gaze drawn to the pale, skeletal holy symbol revealed beneath. A wry smile tugged at his lips.
In his previous life, the Players had endured the torment of the Hall of Death, believing victory was within reach.
But one push against the stone door—only to be met with the Nine-Ring Spell 【Wail of the Banshees】.
And so, they were annihilated—once more, utterly.
Only when someone devised the method of using a Construct Destruction—specifically, the 【Bottle of Wailing Banshees】—did they finally breach the Tomb Chamber.
“Interesting.”
Kai Xiusu narrowed his eyes. With the strength of 【Heaven’s Judgment Dragon Eye】, he pierced through the stone door with his vision—revealing the crystal vial beyond, and the twenty-seven trapped banshees within.
A Legendary-grade Equipment.
Any living being who drew near would trigger the vial’s curse—the banshees would scream, unleashing 【Wail of the Banshees】, shredding the enemy’s Spiritual Soul.
He placed his hand gently upon the stone door.
“Yes… yes…”
“Foolish, ignorant Mortal…”
“Push aside this door to death, and welcome your end!”
The Lich, watching through the magical image, strained with desperate urgency—wishing he could personally push the door open for the man.
But then—something unexpected happened.
The man curled his fingers slightly.
In midair, a radiant claw field appeared—snatching the crystal vial from its place, lifting it into the air as if plucked from thin air.
“No—”
“What is he doing?!”
“Impossible! How could he have discovered it?!”
The Lich screamed silently in his mind.
But the shock did not end there.
The claw field arced through the air, slicing open a Spatial Rift—and the vial vanished, snatched away into thin air.
Stolen.
His decades of meticulous trap design—stolen.
The Lich’s skeletal hand trembled. The two ghostly flames in his eye sockets flickered erratically. He knew—things had turned dire.
Orestes snatched a bone staff from the shelf, preparing to cast a Teleportation Spell—directly to the Eternal Tomb.
But then he realized—something was wrong.
The space around the Tomb Chamber had been sealed off.
“Damned!”
“Why can’t I cast a spell?!”
The Lich was now utterly unhinged.
Necromantic fog boiled from his skull, and the ghost flames roared like dying embers.
Yet no matter how hard he strained, he could not move. He could only watch—helpless—as the man stepped into the chamber where he had hidden his Fate Chest.
“No… my Fate Chest will not be found.”
“My plan is flawless.”
“And… I still have one final trap. This human will never expect this. He will die!”
Orestes hissed through clenched teeth.
This was no empty boast. The Lich had indeed foreseen this worst-case scenario—and prepared accordingly.
Deep within the Eternal Tomb lay an Artifact-level staff—an obvious decoy, designed to lure adventurers into thinking they’d found the ultimate reward, tempting them to leave the chamber.
But his true Fate Chest was hidden in a concealed chamber, accessible only by uncovering a sequence of paintings on the wall—each revealing a hidden door.
Even more crucially, three Eye Demons guarded the hidden chamber.
He had sacrificed much of his own Spiritual Soul to summon them—and though their two-century contract was nearing its end, they were still bound.
He had assumed he’d never need them.
But today, fate had intervened.
These grotesque, hate-filled abominations were the nightmare of every spellcaster.
Their massive eyes emitted an Anti-Magic Field, and could cause petrification, sleep, and enchantment—multiple effects at once.
Orestes was certain—no one, in such a confined space, could survive an ambush by three such creatures.
Inside the Eternal Tomb.
The stone coffin lay cracked open. The corpse of the Fate’s Elder had long since turned to bone—pale as Milcor himself.
The walls were covered in paintings—scenes of death and decay, depicting men, women, and children in every stage of rot.
Kai Xiusu picked up the ritual staff from the altar and swung it once.
Dark green energy surged from its tip.
“Hmm… interesting.”
“A Wand capable of emitting an Eighth-Level Spell. This must be the ‘Artifact’ from my past life.”
It was a Sub-Legendary Rank item—the 【Withering Staff】, capable of casting an Eighth-Grade Wither Spell. It drained life force from enemies, causing their bodies to wither away.
“And these paintings…”
Kai Xiusu chuckled softly, snapped his fingers.
The oil paintings tumbled down one by one—falling in perfect sequence.
Then, with a deep rumble, a Hidden Door emerged from the corner—revealing a path into the deepest, most shadowed chamber.
“So… it was found.”
“This human knows something. Could he be one of the remnants?”
“But it matters not, Mortal Entity. Witnessing the Fate Chest of an Immortal is your final honor. You will die laughing in the eyes of the Eye Demons!”
The Lich trembled violently. His withered face twisted into a tense, almost frenzied expression. Though his words were mad, the desperation beneath them was undeniable—this chest was the very source of his immortality.
Kai Xiusu stepped down the stairs, entering the hidden chamber.
At last, in the flickering glow of the lamp’s fire, he saw it—the Lich’s Fate Chest.
Just a small box, filled with jewelry, etched with countless Binding Runes.
“Finally…”
“But… what is that?”
A spherical mass hovered in midair.
Its massive, bulging eye stared down from a giant maw filled with blood.
Smaller eyes writhed and twisted around it, scanning for prey.
Three Eye Demons emerged from the shadows, cackling.
Their main eyes conjured a barrier of anti-magic force, attacking from three different directions.
“Intruder!”
“Die!”
“Eat you!”
The man’s body flickered with arcane sparks—affected by the anti-magic field.
The Lich watched, breathless.
“Yes… Eye Demons, destroy every protective spell he has! Tear him apart!”
But the Lich did not know—those sparks were not protective magic.
They were the residue of a Fourth-Level Complete Transformation Spell.
“Boom!”
A deafening explosion rocked the chamber.
Stone shattered. Walls collapsed. A thick cloud of dust erupted—something vast swelling within the chaos.
“Crack… crack…”
When the dust settled, the chamber was in ruins.
The Eye Demons’ triumphant grins had vanished—replaced by pure, soul-crushing terror.
Before them stood a massive Red Dragon, towering over the tomb.
The Eternal Tomb, once grand, now seemed like a child’s toy.
The dragon’s spine crushed the ceiling, leaving deep cracks.
Even with its wings tightly folded, they scraped against the walls on either side.
This was not metaphor. This was reality.
The Red Dragon lowered its head, lips curling into a grotesque grin.
Its shadow swallowed the trembling Eye Demons whole.
“I heard… you wanted to eat me?”
(End of Chapter)
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