The Black Sun hung among the dark clouds.
Its cold, silent light poured down. Undead Life bathed in it received a constant boost: Soulfire burned brighter, bodies grew harder, and even Divine Power flowed more smoothly.
For the living, it was the opposite.
Anyone alive within its light had their energy steadily drained. Their life waned, their strength ebbed, and they grew weaker.
By all rights,
the Undead should have been in their element here, with an overwhelming advantage in battle.
But now,
not one of the six remaining Immortal Undead looked pleased. Each wore the grim, rigid expression of someone who had been dead for years.
The Red Iron Dragon, on the other hand,
looked relaxed. He stretched, grinning so broadly that he seemed almost arrogant, as though this were his home ground rather than the Undead's domain.
"Start running."
"Our game has only just begun."
So he said.
To the dragon, the Immortal Undead might have had numbers, but they already looked like easy prey—not enemies on his level at all.
Across from him, the Undead did not flee.
Losing a companion would not frighten the Undead.
The dead did not know fear.
And they saw no reason to run.
The Lich's death in the blink of an eye had shaken them so badly that their decayed hearts had almost started beating. But on reflection, their setback had mainly come from the Red Iron Dragon seizing the initiative and catching them off guard.
This was the Material World, after all.
If they had a chance to wield their Divine Powers and layer their effects upon the dragon, six against one, they still had a strong chance of burying him.
"Arrogant dragon, you're courting death."
"Die!"
The crowned Undead Monarch gave the order without a trace of expression.
At