The Empire's Skeleton Army

With ripples in the space, the portal opened on the scarred plain.

"Call--"

The north wind howled.

Wild grasses bend and fall with the wind.

This is the site of the Battle of Okaglar. The flat ground still bears the marks of artillery shelling and trenches dug by engineers, leaving behind traces of the brutal war.

Tens of thousands of soldiers from the Northern Kingdom are buried here. However, after several months, most of them were washed away by rain, eroded by insects and bacteria, and began to rot. Eventually, they were buried by thick soil and turned into fertilizer buried deep underground.

Night falls, and all around is silent, with only the sound of the wind and insects chirping.

The lich used its flickering will-o'-the-wisps to survey the wandering souls of the wasteland, greedily inhaling the aura of death in the air.

He should have been excited to come to such a "Pure Land".

The bones of soldiers are excellent material for converting the undead; otherwise, there would be a famous saying, "The battlefield is a necromancer's paradise."

War always brings endless slaughter and death, and these things are the breeding ground for Undead Creatures.

He could raise an undead army here.

However, things are different now. The lich is no longer converting the undead for himself, but working for the empire.

Thinking of this, and looking at the nearly 100,000 skeletons densely packed underground, Aurest suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, a cold sensation rushing to his head—even though the lich didn't have a scalp, and even had a yellowish skull exposed.

"These, these"

"Does this mean they all have to be turned into undead?"

"You guessed right, this is only the second batch, but I will help you complete it all."

Keosius replied calmly.

The lich felt a chill run down his spine at the unintentional smile that appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Is this "only" the second batch? Will there be a third, fourth, fifth, or even more? But ultimately, the life-sustaining Phylactery is in the hands of the other side, and the lich Aurest is helpless against it. He can only obediently follow orders in order to save his own life.

Aurest gritted his teeth, trying to console himself. "They're just a few tens of thousands of ordinary undead skeletons."

"It's nothing at all."

"Moreover, there is the help of the master."

Although the lich was saying this, his exposed gums had already begun to tremble.

The Azure Foot Dragon Snake, being a monster several meters long, requires a considerable amount of power to transform, but for a lich, transforming the skeletons of ordinary soldiers is extremely easy.

But even small things add up. The remains of the the North soldiers present numbered nearly 60,000! To convert them all into undead skeletons would be an enormous undertaking—even with Myrkul's Bone Scepter in hand.

Yet, under Keosius's merciless gaze, the lich still tremblingly raised the scepter in his hand and chanted softly. "Long-sealed bones, beings wandering in the void, I call for your return."

"Buzz—"

The necromantic stone at the top of the scepter suddenly emitted a spherical dark green force field, covering the vast wasteland.

Meanwhile, Keosius, standing beside him, lightly flapped his wings, and the power of the [Empire Domain] suddenly descended.

The surrounding Weave suddenly became extremely active, driving the casting of spells, and the necromantic force field expanded several times at a visible speed, enveloping the entire vast abandoned battlefield.

[Undead Scourge]

"Click, click"

The skeletons buried deep underground began to tremble, wriggle, and make soft noises.

The wandering souls of the dead began to wail, cry, and howl, but were still dragged back to the earth by an invisible force.

The lich's withered, bony hand, holding the scepter, trembled even more violently.

However, Aurest underestimated the energy of those tens of thousands of skeletons, and also underestimated Keosius's "help".

He had never felt he wielded such immense power, enough to unleash a Undead Scourge that would sweep across Anzeta.

Seventy thousand immortal bones are attached to one body.

If he hadn't been arrested by Keosius, he might have already completed Myrkul's sacrificial mission and embarked on the path to true immortality.

"Returning to immortality, becoming me." In that instant, Aurest was somewhat intoxicated by it, forgetting that he was still in a predicament, and even regarding himself as the true master of these undead.

However, the next moment, an invisible pressure descended, and the lich felt an extremely dangerous aura coming from it, and its soul fire began to flicker.

This was a fatal mistake!

He shuddered instantly, quickly changing his words to a low murmur, "No, I am the eternal servant of the great Embers of the Burned Emperor — Lord Keosius! To serve the Embers of the Burned Empire until the end of the world!"

The surrounding aura suddenly dissipated, and the lich breathed a sigh of relief. He could sense that if he hadn't changed his mind, his Phylactery would have been crushed.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble slightly, and the skeletons buried in the soil moved around, making a "crackling" sound as their joints rubbed together.

"Whoosh—"

The first skeletal hand broke through the ground.

Immediately afterwards, more skeletal hands burst forth from the ground, like a ghastly white, eerie sea of flowers made of skeletal hands blooming on the wasteland.

The skeletons of those the North soldiers and generals crawled out of the soil and stood up unsteadily. They were often still wearing rotten and tattered the North military uniforms, and held broken knives and swords in their skeletal hands.

However, most of these skeletons are incomplete, with many missing arms or legs, some losing their heads and only having half a body left, and some even having shrapnel embedded in their ribs.

There is the skeleton of a particularly tall general, whose clothes were once luxurious, and there are obvious bullet holes in his skull.

However, this was perfectly normal. According to statistics from Imperial officials, one-third of the Allied casualties came from artillery fire, and another third from gunfire.

These poor the North were not only mercilessly slaughtered by the guns of the Embers of the Burned Empire in life, but even in death, they were dragged out of the ground by liches to serve as the empire's laborers.

Undead skeletons occupy the wilderness, forming a spectacular torrent of skeletons. The 70,000 the North Army soldiers who once perished have now become the Empire's undead legion.

Aurest struggled to support himself with his scepter, the ghostly fire in his eyes dimming further, and his figure becoming even more hunched.

The lich forced a smile and bowed obsequiously, "Master, this is your undead legion, belonging to the empire."

Keosius nodded slightly, but then turned his head and looked down at him with his pale golden eyes. "You seemed to be saying that this is your servant?"

"No, no!"

You misheard me!

"No, you have no problem, it was a slip of the tongue!"

The lich lowered his head even further, offering repeated explanations, some of which were even incoherent.

"I hope so."

Keosius turned around, slowly flapped his wings, and rose into the air, looking down at the undead army below in the moonlight.

"Aurest".

"You've done a good job so far, and hopefully you can keep it up."

"Rest assured, my empire will not mistreat anyone who contributes to the empire—whether you are an immortal lich or a brutal demon, I will treat you all equally."

"Thank you, Master."

The lich knelt on the ground, his body hunched over.

Hearing Keosius's words of praise, he was somewhat flattered—after all, he had just been worried about whether he could save his life.

"Now, come with me to the location where the next batch of undead will be transformed."

"."

Aurest was on the verge of tears. This lich, who had once taken countless lives, finally understood the feeling of being exploited.