Lich's Diary (III)

If you were to open Aurest's diary, you would find the source of his confidence—the next tomb is a true Living Being Forbidden Ground, which even legends cannot easily enter.

"December 1407 (New Era), sunny."

"This is my second year as the Great Immortal. I have broken free from the shackles of death, and everything has become so wonderful."

"But there are still hidden dangers."

"I needed a better way to protect my Phylactery, so I bought thirty-five female Elf from the black market, cursed them, and turned them into Banshee— "

"I watched them struggle, wail, their flesh decay, their spirits collapse, until they were transformed into immortal monsters upon death. In the end, twenty-seven of them were successfully transformed."

"Hmm, those are truly fascinating Undead Creatures. They cannot feel joy, only the suffering of life remains, yet they still yearn for the beauty of being alive."

"Fortunately, my experiment was a success. I put the remaining twenty-seven Banshee into a bottle, where they will be imprisoned forever, their mournful wails never ceasing—that is the [Banshee's Wail Bottle]."

"Heh, from now on, no one will be able to leave here alive."

[The Banshee's Wail]

This is known among mages as "one of the most terrifying Ninth Circle Spell." The roar emitted by this spell can generate extremely strong Negative Energy and can even tear a person's soul apart.

Aurest, however, solidified this Ninth Circle Spell and placed it in the deepest chamber of the tomb to protect his precious Phylactery.

Aurest stared at the image on the crystal skull, his gaze fixed on the man about to enter the next tomb chamber, and murmured in a hoarse voice, "Feel death, you presumptuous mortal."

Hehehe

"This must be the Doomsday Tomb."

"I'd only ever heard of it in my past life; I never imagined I'd be able to get in now."

Keosius wiped the dust off the stone door, gazed at the exposed White Bone Skull Holy Emblem, and couldn't help but sigh.

The players from the previous life had finally overcome the torment of the Death Corridor and thought they could finally taste the sweet fruits of victory.

Upon pushing open the stone door, they were met with the Ninth Circle Spell, "Banshee's Wail"—and the players were wiped out once again.

Players were only able to enter the tomb after someone devised a way to destroy the Banshee's Wail Bottle with soulless constructs.

"Something interesting."

Keosius narrowed his eyes, and with the help of the power of the [Calamity Dragon Eye], his gaze passed through the stone gate, revealing the crystal bottle behind it and the twenty-seven Banshee imprisoned within.

That was a legendary piece of equipment. Whenever a living being approached, the Banshee inside the bottle would unleash the "Banshee's Wail," tearing the enemy's soul apart.

So he gently placed his hand on the stone door.

That's it, that's it.

"Foolish and ignorant mortals"

"Push open this door to death, and then meet your end!"

The lich stared at the Magic Image, urging it anxiously, wishing he could teleport there himself and open the door.

However, something unexpected happened. The man slightly bent his fingers, and a claw-shaped, shimmering force field appeared in the tomb chamber, directly grabbing the crystal bottle containing the Banshee.

"No--"

"What is he going to do?!"

"Impossible! How could he have found out!"

The lich roared furiously in his mind.

However, the next moment, something even more alarming happened to Aurest —the claw-shaped flashing force field carved a Space Rift in mid-air and actually took the bottle away without a trace.

It's been stolen! The trap he meticulously designed over decades has been stolen!

The lich's withered hands trembled slightly, and the two ghostly flames in his eye sockets flickered. He knew the situation was becoming dire.

Aurest picked up a bone staff from the shelf, preparing to cast a teleportation spell to go directly to the Doomsday Tomb.

But he was shocked to discover that the space around the tomb seemed to be isolated.

"Damn it!"

Why can't I cast a spell?!

The lich went completely mad.

Thick necromantic mist billowed from his head, and ghostly flames blazed in his eye sockets.

Even with all his might, Aurest could not enter; he could only watch helplessly as the man entered the place where he had hidden his Phylactery.

"No, he won't find my Phylactery."

"My plan was absolutely correct."

"Moreover, I have a final plan that this human will never expect! He is doomed!"

Aurest said through gritted teeth.

This was not just empty boasting; in fact, the lich had indeed anticipated this worst-case scenario and made thorough preparations.

Doomsday Tomb is a sub-legendary staff, which serves as bait to lure adventurers into believing they have found the "final reward," thus leading them to leave the tomb.

His Phylactery was hidden in a secret room that was not easily noticed. He had to peel back the paintings hanging on the wall in order to open the secret door and enter the secret room where the Phylactery was hidden.

More importantly, his dark chamber is guarded by three Eye Tyrant —he had paid a considerable price to summon these creatures, and their two-hundred-year term is up; they are about to return to the other world.

The lich thought he wouldn't have a chance to use these last safeguards in the next two hundred years, but unexpectedly, the accident happened today.

These mutated monsters are greedy and full of hatred, a nightmare for all spellcasters. Their enormous eyes can emit Anti-Magic Field and cause various effects such as petrification, hypnosis, and charm.

Aurest believed that no one who was ambushed by the Three- Eye Tyrant in such a confined space would have a good end.

The Doomsday Tomb.

Inside the heavy Stone Coffin, the body of the Doom Elder had turned to bones, like the embodiment of Myrkul.

The walls were covered with paintings depicting men, women, and children at different stages of death and decay.

Keosius picked up the staff from the altar and casually waved it, releasing a surge of dark green energy.

"That's interesting."

"A wand capable of casting Eighth Circle Spell... this must be the 'divine artifact' from my past life."

This is the Sub-Legendary [Wither Staff], capable of unleashing an eighth-circle level Wither that drains the enemy's life energy, causing their body to wither.

"And these paintings too."

Keosius chuckled and snapped his fingers, causing the paintings to fall down in sequence.

Immediately afterwards, accompanied by a rumbling sound, a hidden door appeared in the corner, leading to the darkest secret room.

"So it was found after all?"

"This human must know something. Could he be one of those remnants?"

"However, this has nothing to do with mortals. Witnessing the Phylactery of the immortal will be your last honor. You will die amidst the mad laughter of the Eye Tyrant!"

The lich's body trembled violently, and a tense expression appeared on his withered face. Although his words were insane, it was clear that he valued the Phylactery.

That is the source of the lich's immortality!

Keosius walked down the stairs step by step and entered the dark room.

Finally, in the flickering lamplight, he saw the lich's Phylactery —it was just a small box containing jewelry, surrounded by densely packed restrictive runes.

"We've finally arrived."

"But what is that?"

Its spherical body hovered in the air, its huge, bulging eyes wide open above a gaping maw, while other smaller eye stalks twisted and rotated around it, searching for enemies.

The three- Eye Tyrant emerged from the shadows, laughing wildly. The three main eyes created anti-magic fields that attacked from different directions.

"Intruders!"

"Go to hell!"

"I'll eat you!"

Sure enough, the man's body seemed to be affected by the Anti-Magic Field, and his whole body was shimmering with tiny magical lights.

The lich watched all this nervously, praying in a low voice, "That's it, Eye Tyrant, destroy all the Sorcerer's protective spells, tear him to shreds!"

However, he did not know that it was not a protective spell, but a fourth-circle Complete Polymorph.

"Boom!"

A deafening roar was heard.

Stones flew everywhere, walls collapsed, and billowing dust rose suddenly, as if something was rapidly expanding in the dust.

"Snap, snap..."

When the smoke cleared, the surroundings were a mess. The dark room had completely collapsed, and the arrogant smiles on the faces of the Eye Tyrant had disappeared, replaced by endless fear.

The Doomsday Tomb seemed so small in the face of the enormous Red Dragon.

The towering spine shattered the ceiling, creating sunken cracks on it, and the wide wings, even when deliberately tucked in, still touched the walls at the left and right ends of the tomb chamber.

The dragon's body occupied most of the tomb chamber.

This is not rhetoric, but reality.

The Red Dragon lowered its head, grinning with a ferocious smile, casting a shadow that completely enveloped the trembling Eye Tyrant.

"I heard you're going to eat me?"