Chapter 408: Undead Cataclysm
It turned out the more you feared something would happen, the more likely it was to actually occur.
Soon, Kai Xiusu’s command echoed through the chamber.
“Orestes, transform every Azure-Footed Dragon Serpent corpse present into Undead Skeletons.”
.“”
The Lich hesitated, his voice barely a whisper after a long silence. “Master… the cost is immense. I—”
Though the Skeletal Staff of Milcor possessed the power to cast the Nine-Ring Spell Undead Cataclysm, transforming living beings into Undead still required the caster to expend their own Strength.
Transforming creatures of such colossal size—like the Azure-Footed Dragon Serpents—into skeletons demanded an astronomical toll.
And there were hundreds of such skeletons here.
If he completed the transformation, he could forge a terrifying army of skeletal warriors. But the price? It would drain one-third of his accumulated Soul Energy—energy he’d spent centuries gathering.
Even worse, once transformed, the Undead would instinctively summon their Necromancer through Soul Feedback.
But the Undead created by a Lich? Their master was only Kai Xiusu. Orestes himself was merely a conduit—more like a sacrificial offering than a true commander. He had no control over them, no ability to siphon power from them.
“There are no ‘buts’,” Kai Xiusu said coldly, staring down at the Lich with eyes like pale gold fire. The invisible aura of a Red Dragon pressed down upon the chamber, unrelenting, laced with threat.
Beside him, Hart drew his long blade and pressed it against the Lich’s neck. “Lich! Are you defying the King’s command?”
“Hurry and perform the transformation!”
In another time, a mere New Life Zombie Lord would have been beneath Orestes’ contempt.
But now, under the overwhelming intimidation of the Red Dragon’s presence, the Lich trembled. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even think clearly. His mind recoiled at the memory of the Red Dragon tearing open the earth with its bare claws—shame and dread clawed at him.
He tried to reason with himself: Just a little Soul Power… Perhaps serving this Red Dragon will grant me greater strength in the end.
Hart barked again: “Hurry! Do you want the King waiting for you?”
Finally, Orestes lowered his head, his voice hoarse. “N-no, Master… I was merely reflecting on how to best serve you—how to create the most perfect Undead Skeletons… so as not to disappoint your expectations.”
The Red Dragon smirked. “Ah, now that’s more like it. Proceed.”
“It’s merely a necessary sacrifice,” the Lich whispered to himself, trying to calm his fraying nerves. “This much Soul Energy? Nothing compared to what I’ve already given.”
With a grim, almost tragic resolve, he raised the Skeletal Staff of Milcor—the very staff once used to summon the Undead Cataclysm in Anzeta, the instrument of Milcor’s Sacrificial Spiritual Soul Quest.
Now, it was being wielded to forge an Undead legion for the Red Dragon.
Orestes began to chant, his voice hollow:
“Spirits sealed in dust… I call you back to life.”
Undead Cataclysm
The staff pulsed with a ghostly glow, emitting a wave of overwhelming Necrotic Power.
Crack… crack…
A faint sound.
On the ground, the Azure-Footed Dragon Serpent skeletons began to tremble. Fragments of bone slowly reassembled, knitting together. A mist of Undead energy swirled around them, binding the bones into coherent forms.
Scritch… scritch…
The dry, grinding sound of bone against bone, bone against stone.
The reassembled serpents began to move—twisting, writhing, their dozens of skeletal legs churning the earth as if still alive.
In the end, hundreds of Azure-Footed Dragon Serpent skeletons had been transformed into Undead.
Now, these towering, fifteen-meter monstrosities—living like fleshless phantoms—roamed the cavern floor and walls, clumsily entangling themselves in their own movements.
“I am your master!”
With Kai Xiusu’s will descending, the hundred skeletons bowed in unison toward the Red Dragon, letting out a chorus of low, guttural roars. The sight was overwhelming.
Unlike intelligent Zombie Lords, these Serpent Skeletons were pure Undead servants—driven only by instinct.
Once a biological weapon crafted by giants to hunt dragons, now they served as tools for the Red Dragon’s dominion. Irony, indeed.
“Transformation complete, Your Majesty.”
The Lich’s voice was drained, hollow. The ghostly flames in his eye sockets dimmed.
Clearly, the transformation had cost him dearly—his Spiritual Soul energy sapped.
“My soul…!”
The Lich wailed silently in his mind.
“You did well,” Kai Xiusu said, almost casually. “Pity the Legendary Storm Giant was reduced to ash. I could’ve used him. A little extra muscle never hurt.”
Landta had sealed his entire strength into the Eye of the Storm Sovereign. Once the artifact was taken, his corpse had disintegrated—reduced to dust.
But millennia ago, the Elder Storm Giant could never have guessed that this very act would save him from the ultimate humiliation: being dragged from his grave to serve again.
Orestes shuddered at the thought.
Transforming a Legendary Storm Giant?
The very idea made his soul scream.
He was lucky it hadn’t left a full corpse.
He exhaled in silent relief.
Kai Xiusu watched the new Undead Serpents with quiet delight.
These skeletons were invaluable—not just as immediate combat power, but as laborers. They could mine, transport supplies… the foundation for conquering The Underdark.
Of course, they couldn’t venture out during daylight. But The Underdark had no daylight.
“Hart, Marquis.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Kai Xiusu extended a claw, plucked a bone whip from the tail of one of the skeletons, and tossed it at the Zombie Lord’s feet.
“I grant you command over these Skeleton Serpents. They will be your Undead Legion—your army to conquer The Underdark for the Empire.”
“Recently… the Drow Elves have been restless.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!” Hart dropped to one knee, his pale face alight with ecstasy and ambition.
For a Zombie Lord, loyalty to a master was one thing. But beneath that obedience burned a deep-seated hatred for the living—and a hunger for slaughter. War? That was the only true joy.
“Go,” Kai Xiusu said, opening a portal to Lakanman Castle and the Twilight Grove.
There, a passage led to Dragonshadow City—once Mortifer’s domain, now fully under Kai Xiusu’s control. Though it remained a ruin of ash and silence, Imperial forces held the ruins.
Alongside Hart, several high-ranking officers from the Imperial Military Department had been dispatched. Even some Players—those who had prepared for war—were already there, ready to act.
The Underdark lacked any true unified nation. Most settlements existed as city-states, clans, or villages, tangled in complex alliances and rivalries. This made it perfect for the Empire’s expansion.
But the Empire didn’t seek total conquest. Only presence. Outposts. A reliable underground base.
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Hart gripped the bone whip, commanding the skeletal serpents to enter the portal.
His heart—long dead, pierced with countless wounds—thumped with unnatural vigor.
Resurrection from death was already a miracle. But to command an army, to lead conquests… this was beyond belief.
He’s going to conquer The Underdark?
Orestes thought to himself, his decaying skull tilting with sudden hope.
This is my chance! Countless wandering spirits in the battlefield—perfect for replenishing my lost Soul Energy!
He stepped forward, his hollow eyes pleading. “Master… I too wish to accompany Marquis Hart into The Underdark. I will serve the Empire faithfully. My Necromancy skills could greatly assist in securing the region.”
Orestes paused. “And I believe my talents could—”
“Orestes,” Kai Xiusu interrupted, “this was only the first batch of Undead you’ve transformed.”
“Besides, sending you into The Underdark would be… a waste of your abilities. I have other plans for you.”
“Yes, Master.”
The Lich’s smile froze. His skeletal fingers—clutching the Skeletal Staff of Milcor—trembled.
Things were spiraling beyond control. Worse than he’d feared.
And first batch?
What did that mean?
Was he expected to transform more Undead? Ones not even under his command?
Though the Lich had little in the way of living emotions, the ghostly flames in his empty eye sockets flickered—just once—with something new.
Emotional exhaustion.
(End of Chapter)
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