Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 717 - 661 Evil Premonition

The Black Dragon’s pupils shrank into vertical slits, emitting a dangerous glint. His demeanor was indifferent, remarkably calm. He grabbed the carcass he had gnawed to the bone, tossed it aside with a flick of his paw, and like a cat, stretched out his slender tongue to lick the deep purple stains of blood on his claws. Alcalon exuded the composure and detachment typical of nobility.

Lyle felt that it looked more like stiffness from losing one’s soul.

"Come, let me show you my homeland and my tribe." The Black Dragon moved his massive body, retracting his wings behind him, and led the way by crawling into the rift. His pace was not fast, allowing Lyle to easily catch up with him.

The passage through the rift was not small; a Black Dragon without spread wings could pass through easily. The rift narrowed a bit at the upper middle part, with stone spikes hanging in the air like the teeth of a giant beast. The wind whistling through these gaps gave off a cold rustling sound.

"What was that small favor you mentioned earlier that you want my assistance with, Alcalon?"

Sunlight struggled to penetrate the towering rift, reaching the bottom. Eyes could only make out the vague and massive shadow of the Black Dragon, whose footsteps were uniform and stable.

"My tribe has returned to Sahazaan, and they have regained their ancient primal power. That’s good, but now it seems insufficient. In my view, crushing opponents with brute strength of the body is a highly pleasurable act. But it’s of no help when facing a formidable enemy. When power and magic are on par, personal knowledge and skill become the key to victory. I know this all too well," he said.

Alcalon glanced back; Lyle saw his left eye, shining bright as gold.

"Ohmhead was an honorable warrior. He always scolded my tricks, saying I should display the nobility and magnanimity of a dragon. He hated sneak attacks and despised every tactic other than direct confrontation, calling it wisdom, a betrayal of strength. The stubborn old fool. Against enemies, one should use any means necessary. Mercy is a privilege of the strong, and my only task is to ensure they meet a dismembered end, which invalidates most Resurrection Techniques."

Lyle walked alongside the Black Dragon, listening to Alcalon talk at length about how to destroy bodies and erase traces.

"Lord Ohmhead has a point; you can be considered strong. The first time I saw you again, Al, I thought it would be difficult to find a beast in this world that could surpass you. You’re nearly twice the size of your siblings. I’m not sure if that’s Sahazaan’s power, but now you’re only one size smaller than your dad."

"Strong?" The Black Dragon snorted disdainfully. "When I was young, I fought with you. When I grew a bit, I challenged father, and now, I spar with Ohmhead. I’ve never felt like a strong one. Not going all out and using all my tricks, I might have trouble even crawling normally the next day."

"I’ve always been a challenger who is continuously defeated and keeps on fighting. Glory? Dignity? Ridiculous trifles."

Alcalon’s early instruction indeed had an effect; it was hard to say whether his nature was good or evil, but he would surely live very long. Perhaps for this reason, neither the Black Dragon Priests nor the father of dragons intended to correct him, and Lyle didn’t wish to bother himself with that. Besides, he couldn’t beat him.

"So the favor you want from me is related to this? Feeling your tribe is not strong enough and you want them to become more powerful. It’s quite similar to what I do among the Dwarf Elves, promoting unity and collective progress. Okay, Al, I agree. Promoting the growth of the young dragons and the various tribes is also part of the duties of the Dragon King Priest."

"No, no, no," the Black Dragon countered with a tone full of resistance and starkly disparaging, "I’m not interested in flesh modification or Spirit Summoning Skill, and I won’t let you perform inhumane treatments on my tribe. Frankly, I’ve given it some thought and feel your power amplification of the Ancient Human Clans is virtually ineffective..."

"Then how do you want me to help?"

"The one who can make the Ancient Human Clans stronger has always been around, even within easy reach. My father, the father of dragons, Yemotar, the king of close combat, possesses the power to make my tribe stronger through martial arts. Just imagine, a group of warriors who could lift cauldrons being taught practiced techniques. My tribe could crush everything..."

Lyle cut off the Black Dragon’s delusion. "Not everything. You cannot withstand magic and remember, as a child, you were vulnerable to psychic attacks. Spiritual power could easily penetrate your impregnable flesh." The world held no absolute power, and excessive physical conditioning left their spirits wanting. Alcalon would fall at once as a child; a single onset of fear could disturb his dreams for three days.

"No, you’re wrong again," the Black Dragon shook his head. They had nearly traversed the entire rift, and by now were close to the luminous exit. The light outlined the Black Dragon’s figure, and Lyle could see his smugness. "The martial arts my father developed is unmatched, and warriors also have the power to resist magic and psyche. He even created a custom power just for me. The warrior’s rage."

The pair of golden eyes slowly turned blood red, the prelude to a rage-filled menace that made Lyle’s hair stand on end. The anger subsided as quickly as it had risen.

"Rage, what good is that?"

"It lets me be angry anytime, anywhere."

"What’s the difference between this and a bad temper?"

"When I get angry, I’ll hit anyone, I won’t be afraid, I’ll show no emotion other than anger, and those fragile spellcasters who want to invade my mind will have to bear the backlash of my rage."

"Anger is a difficult emotion to control."

"I don’t plan to control it, as long as I kill my enemies, I won’t be angry." The Black Dragon’s half body walked out of the rift, exposing itself to the sunlight.

Through the darkness, what came into view was a towering mountain peak situated in the center of the basin. Its gentle side was covered with vegetation of varying heights. Lyle saw the shadows of birds, or perhaps pterosaurs, flying out from there, ascending into the clouds. The other side of the mountain was steep, as if a large chunk had been cleaved out of thin air. The black cliff curled up in the shadow of the sun, adding a barbaric and hollow gray to this land of life.

Heat waves hit him in the face, coming from the hanging vines, from the roars of wild beasts, from the scalding sun. Sweat dripped down Lyle’s temples. The calls of insects and birds were melodious and long. The lush grass drowned his knees. The continuous trees formed a rippling sea of green that occupied most of the view. Lyle saw a blooming chamomile beside him; its buds were the size of a palm.

Sahazaan, the node of the earth. It was welcoming him, inviting him to join the competition of life. Every creature here was expressing its vigorous vitality, including those who took the vitality of others for their own.

"I still don’t know what you want me to do. Your plan seems not to need me."

"Of course, I need you. Your role is to solve problems, and I am about to discuss the problem."

Alcalon grabbed Lyle and threw him onto his back, then dipped his head and burrowed into the jungle. As he rose, the trees on both sides broke, uprooted and fell onto his fortunately positioned companion.

"This place will never have good roads. Just two days ago, I turned it to ashes with my dragon’s breath."

"My entire clan faces a problem, and that problem is Ohmhead. He does not shun martial skills, but he refuses to accept the gifts of the father of dragons. He is still obsessed with the game of competing for the next Dragon King and thinks it unfair that I sought help from the father. But you won’t have that problem; your interference is acknowledged. You are the Dragon King Priest, the keeper of the young dragons, and he won’t reject your involvement. The Necromancer Figure Club was able to build houses here for that very reason."

Lyle nodded.

"I understand, you want to use my name to teach martial skills to your people, right?"

Alcalon’s face remained cold.

"No, Ohmhead is not an idiot. Even if we deceive him this time, his old-fashioned warrior honor will hinder me in the future. I intend to correct his obstinate personality. I’ve heard my father say that the Andrai Lich is the most troublemaking and death-defying criminal. And it seems you are among the best of them."

The Black Dragon let out an angry roar, repelling the beasts hidden in the bushes. These animals never learn; the bones of the last batch that defied the Black Dragon were gone.

"Lyle, why don’t you use your status as the Dragon King Priest to involve yourself in the management of the Ancient Human Clans? Kill them for me, torment them, make them fear your training, let them complain, let them hate you to the bone. Then that dragon priest who so loves his people will take a good hard look at how ridiculous his so-called honor and rules really are. Yes, you need to make their glory and dignity worthless. Let them regret not challenging Ohmhead’s orders, not following my guidance."

"Hahaha, then, when I return triumphantly with the martial arts of the father of dragons, let the Ancient Human Clans follow me teary-eyed, adoring me as the greatest guardian dragon of this tribe. Hahahaha... Hahaha!!!"

Lyle stood on the Black Dragon’s back, watching this despicable lad’s twisted smile, his body shaking.

"How despicable, Alcalon, the Ancient Human Clans will have a very poor impression of me later on."

"It’s for the sake of my clan, Dragon King Priest·Sir. And even if we don’t do this, they would still not have a good impression of you. They don’t like ’small’ people."