Chapter 406: Respawn – Corpse Suburbs of Northwind Keep
Inside the Iron Dragon Wing Palace.
Kai Xiusu sat upon the Iron Throne, flanked below by the three dukes—Lanpu, Dolo, and Meizhuolashi.
Most of the Empire’s high command were currently based in Isdalia. This urgent summons, however, had drawn them here from across the realm through emergency teleportation.
Kai Xiusu surveyed the chamber, then asked, “Gentlemen, have you all grasped the situation? What are your thoughts on this Lich?”
Meizhuolashi frowned slightly, his voice heavy. “Your Majesty, forgive my candor—but such an ancient, evil Undead is not worthy of trust.”
He was, after all, a former Paladin. He knew full well that a Lich was a being beyond redemption, a soul irrevocably corrupted by darkness.
Dolo countered, “He could serve as a weapon for the Empire. Perfectly suited to fill our gap in Necromancy magic.”
Lanpu added, “Your Majesty holds the Lich’s Fate Chest. This old monster has lived for centuries. His mind holds forgotten lore lost to time—secrets so terrifying they’re worth their weight in treasure. A vault of knowledge, buried within his memories.”
The Cannibal Magician licked his lips, his voice dripping with greed. “We can extract it… bit by bit.”
“Indeed,” Kai Xiusu nodded. “But first, let you witness his worth.”
With a quiet command, a line of Tiefling soldiers entered, heaving a stone sarcophagus into the hall. They strained as they lifted the lid.
“This is… Baron Hart.”
Within the coffin lay a towering, broad-shouldered Half-Dragon, his chest riddled with a ghastly wound. His skin, treated with arcane preservation, was pale as bone—clearly long dead.
During the Magul Incident, Hart—the leader of the Free Trade Caravan—had been caught in the Allied Forces’ siege. First frozen in place by a spell, then riddled with bullets. Yet Duke Leo had been astonished to discover that the Dragon-blooded Baron’s body was impervious to fire.
The Allied troops had brought the corpse back to Stravburg. Northern nobles sought to unlock the secrets of his draconic bloodline. But before they could begin their research, the army of the Kingdom of Ashen breached the city, reclaiming the body.
After the war, Hart was officially hailed as a hero who died for the liberation of the Northern Regions. He was granted the honorary title of Marquis. His statue and corpse were placed on display in the Imperial Museum.
Now, that very body—still bearing Dragon Blood—had been brought here.
What Kai Xiusu intended was obvious. This was a Baron he had personally bestowed with rank. Letting him die in vain would be a waste.
“Bring in Orestes.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Lich entered the chamber, trembling, and fell to his knees before the Red Dragon. His aura was weakened—his power diminished, since the Fate Chest was not in his hands.
“Your Majesty… no, my noble Master, I have come as you commanded.”
“Transform him.”
“Yes, Master. But I do not know—what form of Undead do you wish me to resurrect?”
“The highest tier. One with full consciousness.”
“But…” The Lich’s gaunt face twisted with hesitation.
Kai Xiusu lifted a claw. The skeletal staff—Skeletal Staff of Milcor—appeared midair, floating before the Lich.
“I lend it to you.”
“Thank you, Master’s generosity.”
Orestes raised the Bone Staff of Milcor, pointing it at Hart’s corpse. The black magic stone pulsed with necromantic energy.
> “Evil Undead born from dark desires and great vanity.”
> “Zombie Lord, heed my call.”
> [Summon Greater Undead]
When death extinguishes a heart’s breath, silencing life, the spirit essence may return—not as a soul, but as a wraith, binding itself to the corpse. To the living, it brings eternal war.
That is the Zombie Lord.
They obey any darkness that forged them. Though they retain their will, they swear eternal fealty to their new master. Unwearied. Unyielding. Unswerving. They pursue their purpose with relentless focus.
Lanpu suddenly spoke coldly from the side, “Lich. Are you transforming your own servant? Look closely—who is the master here?”
Orestes froze. The truth struck him like lightning. For centuries, he had acted only for himself. He had nearly committed the gravest error.
This was not about him.
This was for the King.
He bowed low, voice trembling. “Of course, Your Majesty. You are the undoubted master of this Zombie Lord.”
“Master, please bestow your will—complete the final step.”
A wave of Red Dragon’s overwhelming willpower descended.
The final invocation was sealed.
Undead mist swirled around the Half-Dragon’s form. Like embers of negative energy spreading from the heart, it seeped through flesh, clothing, armor—transforming the corpse into a vessel capable of housing an Undead spirit essence.
Hart felt himself drowning in endless darkness. Images flashed in his mind—long spears piercing him, fire consuming his body. The final memories of his life.
And then, a distant, vast voice called to him.
“Hart…”
It was the Dragon Lord’s voice.
The voice of the one who had granted him new life, rewritten his fate, and bestowed upon him noble blood.
“Your Majesty needs me.”
“I must return.”
Slowly, his eyes opened. Dark, yet flickering with a cold, unnatural light.
“I… came back?”
Hart rose, dazed, staring at his cold, lifeless body. But soon, clarity returned. The King had brought him back. Given him new life.
The Zombie Lord remembered. His past self still lingered within—guided by the same consciousness. Yet the question remained: Was this Undead truly a continuation of the man he once was? Or merely a monster with false memories, utterly unlike the original?
He adjusted to his new existence. Crawling from the sarcophagus, he knelt halfway before the Red Dragon.
“Your Majesty,” the Zombie Lord rasped—voice hollow, devoid of emotion.
Yet Kai Xiusu felt it—the loyalty, not just of a dragonblooded vassal, but of an Undead bound to its summoner. A bond forged in spirit, not flesh.
“Welcome back to the Empire.”
“Hart Marquis.”
Kai Xiusu stared down at the newly awakened Zombie Lord, his presence towering, his voice calm.
In the Empire’s future, Undead were not monsters to be feared—but pieces of a greater design. They were cheap, expendable cannon fodder. A recyclable labor force. And in the Underdark, they could be devastatingly effective.
But Hart’s resurrection was only the beginning.
Now, Kai Xiusu had a far more greedy, far bolder idea for the use of this Lich.
(End of Chapter)
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