"Your perception is really sharp, Mikaela. You're much better than someone else." Muria smiled at the seraphim girl behind him as he looked at the underground cavity filled with various undead structures before them.
As Muria and Mikaela chatted as if no one else were around, a dark knight on a skeletal warhorse stared at them in a daze from less than a hundred meters away, the soul fire in its eyes flickering violently. It couldn't comprehend why a hole had suddenly appeared in the wall that its master had fortified, nor why three beings with such vibrant life auras had emerged from it.
But comprehension wasn't necessary; these creatures weren't known for their intellect. All it needed to know was that it was enemies with these living beings. Its only task now was to raise its spear and charge.
"Cavalry, prepare to charge!" The cold and authoritative command echoed in the soul fire of the resting undead knights. One after another, knights charged out from the skeletal buildings.
"Looks like our luck is good. We've stumbled upon an undead cavalry regiment's encampment." Muria turned to see over twenty undead knights charging at him in a line. He raised a finger, and the soul fires of the knights were extinguished in an instant.
"The lich is coming out," Mikaela softly reminded from behind Muria.
"I see it, Mika." Muria looked up at the nearly ten-square-kilometer underground cavity.
An eerie blue ghostly fire illuminated the cavity, and between the densely packed, orderly undead buildings, a thick black-gray death aura erupted. A skeleton inscribed with runes faintly appeared, exuding immense spiritual pressure.
"Who dares to invade the territory of the great lich, Barak?" The lich roared in fury, feeling its undead knights wiped out in an instant. Small wraiths flew towards Muria's location, and he could feel the ground trembling slightly as a flood of skeletons, ghouls, abominations, and various corporeal undead creatures poured out of the buildings, forming a small undead tide rushing towards Muria.
"Only a third-tier soul lich? Too weak. We'll need to catch a few more," Muria sensed the lich's strength, looking disappointed.
With Muria's thought, golden flames ignited in the dark cavern, as if the sun had descended. Hundreds of low-level undead turned to ashes under the flame's light.
"Mercy, Golden Dragon Lord!" The once fierce lich immediately submitted upon seeing the golden flames around Muria. It lay prostrate at Muria's feet.
"Are liches this cowardly now?" Muria's outstretched hand froze in mid-air as he looked at the submissive lich. "Did you think surrendering would spare you?"
With a thought, Muria's dragon flames formed a massive hand, which then struck the lich, sending it flying and crashing into the other side of the underground cavity, creating a huge pit and spiderweb cracks. The carefully polished crystal skeleton body showed numerous fractures.
Muria intended to subjugate the lich, and he needed to demonstrate his power. Even liches, in their pursuit of eternal knowledge, revered superior strength.
"Mercy, Golden Dragon Lord. I serve Bartholomew Boganda. Please, spare me." The lich Barak, unconcerned with its nearly shattered body, hurriedly explained.
"Already have a master?" Muria frowned. "How strong is your master? Another lich? A legend or a demigod?"
"Noble Golden Dragon Lord, he is a golden dragon like you." The lich quickly replied, fearing another blow from Muria.
"Hmm?" Muria's face showed surprise. "Did you say your master is a golden dragon?"
"You should know the name of Bartholomew, the dragon who enslaves liches. As a golden dragon, you must have heard of him."
"I'm from another continent, not a native dragon." Muria explained, finding the situation intriguing.
"A fallen dragon," Ilvester, beside Muria, revealed undisguised killing intent upon hearing the lich's master's name. The relationship between seraphim and dragons was not friendly, especially with chromatic dragons or those dabbling in necromancy or abyssal powers.
"You can contact your master, right? Let me meet him." Muria glanced at his brother-in-law, squinting. As a golden dragon, he knew the potential horrors a fallen golden dragon could bring. In necromancy, the highest achievements besides liches were undead dragons like ghost dragons, bone dragons, and zombie dragons.
"My master is not a fallen dragon. He is just different. He hasn't harmed other creatures while commanding us." The lich began to explain, sensing that Muria and his companions were considering confronting its master.
"Enough nonsense. Do you think we'd believe a lich?" Ilvester impatiently said.
"Don't worry about him. If this golden dragon has only enslaved undead without other deeds, we might have a lot in common," Muria said, his demeanor becoming more relaxed. "Contact your master for me."
"Barak, what's going on?" In the dark communication circle, necrotic aura gathered, vaguely forming a dragon shape. "Hmm? You're injured. What happened?"
"Are you the dragon who enslaves liches?" Muria pushed the almost broken lich aside, looking at the necrotic dragon shadow with interest.
"Did you attack my servant?"
"Yes," Muria admitted frankly.
"How dare you," the dragon shadow instantly shattered. The space rippled like water, and a golden, black-edged dragon claw reached out, clawing at Muria.
"So aggressive," Muria blocked Ilvester, who was about to attack. He transformed his hand into a dragon claw and met the necrotic dragon claw head-on.
"You're a golden dragon too!" A surprised voice came from behind the claw, followed by a resigned tone. "Another kinsman here to trouble me. How many times must I say, I have not fallen!"
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