Chapter 494: The Lich's Greatest Weakness

The pale elf standing before him spoke with a faint hint of teasing, almost flirting, though both he and the Dragon Tyrant were male.

But there was nothing disgusting nor thrilling about his behavior. Atros felt a chill that injected his heart with fear, like a bottomless abyss whispering to someone peering over its edge.

The Dragon Tyrant did not respond to the question. Even with his greatest secret laid bare, even with no one else around for miles, this was an issue on which he would never comment, much less admit to.

That the power of time had no effect on this pale elf made it clear the man was a god's avatar.

The heart-chilling sensation he felt was simply the overflow of his divine power. But the Dragon Tyrant had no guesses as to just who this uninvited guest might be.

Suppressing his mounting fear, the Dragon Tyrant addressed the pale elf warily. "Your Excellency, you are clearly a god, so you must know of Aion's decree that gods are not to interfere in mortal affairs at will. I am the Emperor of Lyon. Surely you understand that exchanging even a few words with me risks drawing Aion's punishment. Even the elven gods themselves cannot escape it."

The pale elf shook his head. "No, I have nothing to do with Choralan. I chose this form simply because I thought elves were beautiful. I haven't come today to expose your identity, either. This is a wager between the dragon gods and the Lord of Dawn, and I wouldn't dream of interfering so crudely and pointlessly. I've only come to offer you a friendly word of warning."

The Dragon Tyrant did not let his guard down. He didn't believe in free lunches, nor that a god steeped in this much malevolence would offer him goodwill without expecting something in return.

Evil gods and devils loved nothing more than dangling bait and luring others into ruin of their own accord.

Paying no mind to whether the emperor believed him, the pale elf went on. "I know you're about to keep an appointment a thousand years in the making. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you it's a trap. That lich knows your true identity, so he's certainly prepared to make sure that once you go, you won't come back."

"I'm well aware of that."

Now that Arthur Lyon had been revived and had sent him an invitation, his identity could no longer stay hidden. The lich simply had no proof with which to expose him.

The Dragon Tyrant was confident, that no matter how anyone tried to verify it, no proof would ever be found.

He had already devoured that poor wretch's soul. Even if the lich came to examine him personally, he would find nothing amiss.

As long as he held onto the identity of the emperor of Lyon, the Lyon Empire would remain his to command. With an entire empire's strength behind him, on top of his own power, he wasn't afraid of whatever scheme the lich might have in store.

"I know you've made preparations. That lich has no chance of killing you right now. But you also know he's prepared just as thoroughly—even if he can't finish you off, he'll be able to retreat without a scratch. Not only that, he has plenty of means to force your hand and make you submit to his schemes. You can't deny the lich has that kind of ability. Am I wrong?"

The Dragon Tyrant offered no rebuttal. This was precisely what troubled him most.

A time dragon wasn't easily dealt with, but neither was that lich.

By all accounts, no one knew just how many phylacteries the lich had prepared.

Since the Silvermoon Knight's death, no one in the Lyon Empire would be able to fully annihilate the lich's soul.

The Dragon Tyrant had even considered using his power over time to resurrect the Silvermoon Knight, but he worried the man's soul might already have ascended to a divine realm.

Once inside the Lord of Dawn's realm, the Silvermoon Knight would learn the whole truth—and if he were revived, that Sacred Slash of his might well come down on the emperor himself.

To the Dragon Tyrant, the Silvermoon Knight's signature Sacred Slash was no weaker than Arthur Lyon's own. If he were unlucky, he'd end up with two mortal enemies instead of one.

After much hesitation, the Dragon Tyrant chose not to revive the Silvermoon Knight. But without the Silvermoon Knight's Sacred Slash, there was hardly any means left in this world to deal with the lich, especially considering he was a diviner capable of foreseeing the future.

It seemed this lich was destined to remain a festering threat to the Lyon Empire for a long time to come, and his plan to unify the world would suffer serious setbacks as a result.

Yet judging by what this pale elf was saying, perhaps there was some way to deal with the lich after all?

Half-doubtful, half-eager, the Dragon Tyrant asked, "Honored deity, do you have some way to deal with this lich? Aren't gods forbidden from acting against mortals?"

The pale elf shook his head. "Of course I wouldn't act directly myself. That lich is fast becoming a curse upon the gods as it is. But dealing with him isn't actually difficult at all. You're entirely capable of it yourself, with only a small hint from me."

"Not difficult?"

The Dragon Tyrant nearly laughed. That lich had frightened the gods themselves into silence in his presence. And here was some nameless deity claiming it wasn't difficult, clearly a god too proud to admit otherwise.

The pale elf, once again seeing straight through the emperor's thoughts, smirked and said mockingly, "Just about everyone, gods and mortals alike, believes that only killing your enemy counts as successful revenge. But look at everything that lich has done. How many times has he actually annihilated an enemy completely? A victory of the spirit lasts far longer than a victory of violence, and serves your goals far better. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Victory of the spirit? You mean..." The Dragon Tyrant thought it over for a moment and arrived at a rather absurd conclusion. "I should offer him a large sum of gold as a bribe?"

The pale elf smiled wickedly and nodded. "Now you're catching on. That's the first method, and also the most direct and effective one. Guess what price that lich would sell you a revived Arthur Lyon for. Guess how much gold it would take for him to work for you."

The Dragon Tyrant clenched his fists. The thought of that lich willingly submitting to him sent a thrill through his body.

It made sense—everything that lich had done was for gold, and gold was the one thing Lyon had no shortage of.

Any other emperor of Lyon might have refused to cooperate with an undead, but he was the Dragon Tyrant revived. Humans and the undead were equally foreign to him.

The Dragon Tyrant mused, "If that lich were on my side, everything would become simple. But I doubt it'll be that easy."

It wasn't that he feared the lich's resolve would hold firm. He simply worried he couldn't afford the lich's asking price.

Not long ago, when the lich had owned nothing but a single castle and stood on the verge of bankruptcy, a million gold would have been enough to make him the emperor's court mage. But how much gold would it take to convince a lich as wealthy as a small nation to work for him?

Or perhaps he should settle for less—just enough gold to buy a preliminary agreement of cooperation?

That alone might suffice. Even with Arthur Lyon revived, a man of his character would never amass great wealth. In terms of raw resources, he stood no chance at all.

Without the lich's backing, how long could Arthur Lyon possibly hold out alone?

Would he really dare to expose his own identity and force Lyon into civil war? Given the Dragon Tyrant's understanding of him, that reckless man would likely infiltrate the palace himself and challenge him to a king's duel. He would never drag half the empire's people into the flames of war.

This did seem like a viable path forward. The Dragon Tyrant was about to offer his thanks when he saw the pale elf shake his head again. "Not so fast. Have you considered what would happen if the lich refuses?"

"This is his life's obsession. Can an undead truly endure giving it up?" the emperor countered.

The corner of the pale elf's mouth curled into a cold smile. "It's precisely that endurance that makes him stand out. If you underestimate this lich, you'll pay for it."

"Then I take it Your Excellency has a backup plan as well."

"Of course. Let me tell you something in confidence. Do you know what this lich's greatest weakness is?"

The Dragon Tyrant frowned. "Vulnerability to holy light?"

The pale elf shook his head. "No. It's the very intellect he takes such pride in. He spent centuries as an adventurer, and that experience tempered his will and gave him a deep understanding of human nature. He isn't swayed by faith or emotion. He can always analyze problems and find solutions with the cold detachment of an outsider.

"But that, too, is his greatest weakness. The moment he can no longer stay calm, that lich is finished. And you're the only one who can make that happen. Do you understand what I mean?"

The Dragon Tyrant fell into long, silent contemplation—then suddenly lifted his head.

He rose to his feet, trembling with excitement, fists clenched. "So that's it. I understand now! If that lich refuses to cooperate... then he'll be done for!"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.