Wandering Knight-Chapter 324: Corpse Retrieval

The phylactery broke open where Avia's Severing Thread struck it. Black smoke billowed from its ruptured core, releasing ceaseless wails of agony. No matter how desperately Valma's fading consciousness struggled to cling to life, there was no stopping what had already begun.

The phylactery, the source of a lich's immortality, was also its fatal flaw. Once shattered, the lich's soul would be annihilated, leaving no possibility for reincarnation, for taking on another form. Varma's death would be final.

"Well?"

Wang Yu holstered the Conqueror as he glanced toward Avia, who stood within an activated array. She had prepared it in advance specifically for Varma. As a master of spatial magic, she had been waiting for the fluctuations in space that would signal an incipient spatial rift, and had struck with lethal accuracy the instant it appeared.

"I've confirmed the kill."

Avia exhaled slowly, tension melting from her face as a smile touched her lips.

Though the phylactery had clearly been cleaved in two, that alone wouldn't have been enough to guarantee Varma's demise. But now, she was certain. Hovering above her was an unmistakable curio: the Crimson Mark.

The curio had appeared the moment Varma's phylactery was split and tethered itself to Avia. Curios, after all, only disengaged from their hosts upon their total and irrevocable death.

"That was damn hard to kill," Wang Yu muttered, giving her shoulder a pat. "Even if the Professor showed up with overwhelming power by the end, we still nearly let that thing get away. Good thing you were here."

He frowned. The lich hadn't just been strong, but also infuriatingly resilient.

In this world, more power didn't always mean greater destructive strength. But it always made them harder to kill—especially if their opponents were able to flee at will.

Mid-rank mages, grand wizards, grand knights—by that level, everyone had a survival technique or two. Defeating such opponents was one matter, and killing them as they fled was another altogether. The moment they chose to flee, killing them would be an order of magnitude harder.

For legends, the difficulty was even more extreme. There was a record of ten legendary powerhouses hunting down a single legendary renegade. It took them over forty years to finally trap the lone wolf, who had no fixed abode, no kin, and no comrades.

"So that's what this curio does... I see. This is how she managed to find Sieg and Noelle."

Avia was already parsing the residual knowledge in the curio that had been passed to her the moment it recognized its new bearer. Now it made sense how the Church of Dragonkind had tracked them here. They'd been lucky. The cult didn't yet know their exact location.

Most likely, they had followed Aurelian into the undead plane and used the Crimson Mark to trace her bloodline, leading them to Skyborne City.

A massive form landed beside them—Sieg, reverting to human form.

"I truly owe you both," he said sincerely, bowing to Wang Yu and Avia.

Their bond had long surpassed the need for formal gratitude, but Sieg didn't hide the depth of his appreciation.

"All's well that ends well," Avia replied gently. "And you needn't worry. It's unlikely the Church of Dragonkind knows where you're hiding. That lich tracked you using a curio."

She manifested the Crimson Mark, letting its crimson glow illuminate the space as she explained its function: to trace a target through bloodline resonance.

"As always, curios are absolute in their nature," Sieg mused. "It was pointing in the right place—Noelle and I had to be the targets. But Its power, the blade imbued with Its essence, locked onto you instead, Wang Yu."

He paused, understanding dawning.

"That's why that lich didn't take Noelle when she had the chance. She was waiting for me. The plan was to kill both of us—both heretic dragons—in a single strike. Varma, armed with that Dragonslayer blade, could have done it. But it targeted you instead. That mistake saved our lives."

"That sword... That was Its power?"

Wang Yu blinked. He'd felt the blade stab into him, but hadn't sensed any divine presence. Still, if it were true...

"So even gods can be mistaken—but curios can't." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "A curio's nature supersedes that of a god. I wonder how a soul-targeting curio would fare against me?"

No divine being had ever pierced his will. But curios existed in a domain of their own. If they were indeed higher in the hierarchy—well, he would test that out someday.

"This lich felt unusually weak," Avia murmured, adjusting the Perfect Fractal lens atop her right eye socket. "Liches are usually legends. This one was powerful, yes—but not even close to that level. We'd be dead if she were."

She reviewed the data collected during the battle.

"And it never used its own body, which is unusual. Lich bodies are durable and often protect their phylacteries. Why risk separating them?"

"Maybe it wasn't a risk," Sieg said slowly. "Maybe it deliberately avoided bringing its body here to prevent it from being destroyed by the alchemical golems of Skyborne City. Just the phylactery."

Sieg reached the same conclusion that Avia did.

"In other words, there's an unclaimed legendary lich's body lying around somewhere in the undead plane?" Wang Yu's eyes gleamed. "That'd be a true treasure. Avia, lend me that curio for a moment."

"What are you planning to do with it?" Avia asked, curious.

"If I have a shard of the phylactery, I can use the Crimson Mark to find the lich's body. Who else would have a stronger bloodline?" He grinned. "Legend-tier undead material—can't pass that up."

Without waiting for a response, Wang Yu dashed toward where Varma's phylactery had shattered. Both Avia and Sieg stared at him, stunned.

His logic was wild, but not necessarily wrong. Curios defied explanation. Who could say for sure?

They followed him to the broken remnants of the phylactery. Wang Yu knelt, gathering the fragments and grinding them to fine dust in his palm. He scattered the powder into the void, where it drifted gently down...

Then, he saw it. A crimson thread of radiant light flared from the Crimson Mark, extending in a single direction.

Time to collect Varma's "corpse."

Above the Endless Sea, nestled within the inner edge of the Eternal Maelstrom, lay an island not far from the mainland. At its heart stood a solemn temple in which a gathering of figures knelt in reverence. They bore the traits of reptiles—or more precisely, dragons—but none of them were dragons in truth. They encircled a great stone effigy of a dragon, murmuring ceaseless prayers to It and the draconic divinity It represented.

The statue was carved from dark stone, lifelike to a fault, exuding a presence so powerful it seemed almost animate. Though inert, it emanated a majesty and dread that stirred instinctive awe. Its eyes glimmered with a strange light, a vitality that defied its lifelessness.

Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the dragon bore a striking resemblance to the form Varma had assumed as a draconic lich. And yet, Varma's transformation was but a pale imitation, a degraded echo of the majesty immortalized in this stone.

A sudden sound shattered the solemnity of prayer. Gasps rose from the worshipers as the statue convulsed with unnatural movement. The light in the dragon's eyes vanished in an instant, and a jagged fracture tore through its chest. Chunks of stone tumbled to the floor, revealing a withered, blackened heart that rolled lifelessly from within.

Panic erupted among the cultists of the Church of Dragonkind.

"The statue—it cracked! Lady Varma has failed in her task!"

"It's over! She'll never become a true dragon now! The other dragons will devour us for this!"

"How can this be?! We sacrificed hundreds of our own to dispel the silver dragon's safeguards! Is death to be our fate?! I won't accept it! I refuse to accept this!"

"The flame has gone out... Lady Varma is dead! But she was a legendary lich. Who could possibly have destroyed her? Could another being like that silver dragon have appeared?!"

"..."

Despair spiraled into chaos. The very air was thick with dread, as every voice quivered with fear of what lay ahead. Varma's death was beyond anything they had foreseen.

Not long ago, they had chased the silver dragon Aurelian into the undead plane, sacrificing themselves to identify the coordinates to that realm. In doing so, they discovered the existence of two other dragons close to her.

Varma had then petitioned the Church of Dragonkind for the use of the Crimson Mark and launched a hunt for the other two dragons connected to Aurelian.

Success would have meant Its blessing. She would have ascended to a true dragon—and they, her faithful, would have basked in the glory of her rise.

Now, after the sacrifice of hundreds, all they had to show was the death of the legendary dragon-lich Varma, the mission in ruins, and the loss of an irreplaceable curio. It was despair made manifest.

"No, there's still hope. If we can determine where Lady Varma fell, we may yet pinpoint the location of the other two dragons. If we pass this knowledge to our former enemies, perhaps... perhaps a sliver of survival remains."

One cultist forced himself to calm down, suggesting the only rational path forward that he could think of.

"Yes... yes, there's still a chance."

"That might work... yes, that might work..."

"..."

Their voices surged with renewed, desperate hope. The words spread like dry grass catching fire, seized upon by every trembling soul.

And then—the world cracked apart. The temple shook violently, a thunderous roar tearing through the hall. Its ceiling exploded in a burst of light and fury, the protective enchantments inscribed above vanishing as though they were nothing but paper in flame.

Terrified cultists raised their eyes, only to see the form that haunted their deepest nightmares.

Suspended in the sky above the shattered temple was a silver dragon, slender and regal, wings spread wide in cold majesty. In her eyes blazed a frostbitten wrath, her fury smoldering like glacial fire.

She had emerged in her full power, no longer suppressed by the suppression of the undead plane. Her presence alone was cataclysmic. The pressure of her domain descended like a mountain, crushing all beneath it. Everything within its reach edged toward annihilation.

The cultists fell to their knees—not in worship, but in sheer, involuntary submission. They did not call upon Its blessings. They couldn't even stand.

"This was my mistake," Aurelian's voice rang through the air, cold as winter steel. "My oversight. The safeguards I left behind were not enough... and because of that, Sieg and Noelle were placed in danger. What should have come for me, instead found them. I will not make that mistake again."

A silver sphere of condensed destruction shimmered before her, its power humming with quiet finality.

"I will see the Church of Dragonkind utterly destroyed. And know this: there will not be a second time."

Her power surged. A pillar of blinding silver light tore through the heavens, engulfing the entire island. When it faded, nothing remained.