From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 649 Snow Globe

Even when faced with the golden dragon's sun-like gaze, the lich Zecharias showed no fear whatsoever.

He gave a calm chuckle: "If you don't return my wand to me, I won't be able to leave here, let alone serve the Crusade."

“Our goals are aligned; we all value wisdom and focus. And with a wise and focused mind, it’s easy to conclude that as long as the Crusaders need to breathe, there’s no way to defeat the demons. The Crusaders’ only problem is that they can be killed, but the undead cannot. The undead know no fear; they cannot betray, they cannot be injured, and they need no provisions.” The lich Zecharias spread his arms, the faint candlelight filtering through his tattered sleeves.

After the previous conversation, Zechariah was very clear that the golden dragon in front of him, who claimed to be the full military advisor of the Crusade, would not kill him for no reason. He was a guy who could set aside worldly prejudices and examine the lich and his undead minions with a rational eye.

Dealing with such a Crusader commander is actually much simpler than dealing with those paladins who shout about sacred justice and sacrifice.

Zecharius believed that as long as he explained things clearly, the holy war commander who valued the undead's combat capabilities would not give up this overwhelmingly superior force.

All agreements and conversations between the two will revolve around this point.

"...Most importantly, even a farmer who can only wield a pitchfork can become a powerful undead soldier. The deaths of a few thousand are but a small price to pay for the final victory. Whatever decision you make, mortals are destined to die, so let them die with more value. The only question is whether you will place the goal of defeating the world's tragedy above your own questionable morality. If your answer is yes, then I will call you the most deserving Crusader warrior. When the demons witness an undead army led by a powerful lich, they will learn to fear."

"The matter is very clear. You want victory and prestige, while I want freedom. If you don't return my phylactery, I cannot leave this place to serve you and your holy war. Once you hand over the phylactery, I can initiate the long-awaited ritual to add a powerful lich to your Crusader army. The little girl who used my wand to punish the undead earlier would be perfect."

The "little girl" Zecarius refers to is Ilinica. Previously, when they found Zecarius's wand in the cave below the leper's smile, they used its power to destroy the cultists who had been transformed into undead by the dissipated death energy.

Zechariah must have witnessed the entire process through the connection between the Life Box and his true self, so it's not surprising that he would have an impression of Illinika.

“Or, we could discuss other alternatives…” A light of curiosity gleamed in the lich’s hollow skull. “You say you are a golden dragon, so perhaps we can use my ritual to transform you into a unique dragon lich. But let me make this clear: the rituals I create are always based on the standard Crusader, and a dragon like you is not within my consideration.”

The lich Zecharias's proposal was quite audacious, but Ivy was also very curious about what it would be like if a mythical golden dragon like himself were to be transformed into a dragon lich.

However, given the personality changes that occurred before and after Zechariah became a lich, Ivy was very wary of this power that had a high probability of altering her will.

What he needs is controllable power, not control by some dangerous force.

Wizards who study black magic for many years are very likely to develop symptoms of mental distortion, but Ivy, with her superb willpower and talent, successfully isolated herself from this negative influence originating from her mind.

But Ivy isn't crazy enough to completely transform her body and soul into another kind of immortal being.

He is now a divine being with a bright future, so why should he pursue another power that is completely contrary to his own?
However, Ivy felt it was still necessary to collect information about the special rituals for transforming liches.

He neither nodded nor shook his head at Zechariah's suggestion, but simply stared calmly at the lich before him as always.

The light mist that had formed behind Ivy, which had transformed into a giant golden dragon, suddenly solidified. The majestic dragon head roared and then spewed out a burst of light and flame that swept across the entire basement.

The death energy emanating from the lich Zecharias vanished completely in the blink of an eye upon encountering this flame, like snow melting in hot water.

However, during his hundred years as a lich, Zechariah did not simply sit idly in this basement waiting. He was proficient in all types of magic and adept at using these spells to protect himself.

Although Ivy's sudden attack caught him off guard, the lich, who had been in his lair for a hundred years, still managed to activate multiple life-saving and offensive spells using trigger spells and unexpected chain reactions.

Dark purple clouds of death spread out from beneath his feet, and stark white bones pierced through the walls and ceiling, forming a defensive wall of bones around Zecharias. Multiple shimmering shields and mage armor were activated, all to counter the overwhelming, blazing light.

Zecarius, having activated his protective spell, did not stop to wait for his magic to take effect. Instead, he chanted incantations loudly, intending to use his most proficient necromancy to annihilate the ungrateful golden dragon before him and then completely transform its corpse into his servant.

The whistling flames first collided with Zecarius's Death Cloud spell. The dark purple instant-death poison cloud failed to provide any obstruction or attenuation and was completely blown away into the air.

Then came the bone wall that stood between the lich and the golden dragon. With Zechariah's own strength, the bone wall he summoned was no different from the walls of a large fortress like the City of Favor. However, in the face of the flames spewed from the dragon's head behind Ivy, the bone wall, which was covered with countless broken bones, was like a crispy pancake and was blasted into a sky full of bone fragments in the blink of an eye.

To the lich's astonishment, the fire shield, powerful enough to withstand lava, failed in a flash. And the mage armor cast by the lich archmage, who had existed for a hundred years, did not buy him any time either.

The flames ignited the lich's Crusader mage robes from a hundred years ago, and then burned the entire skeletal body that sustained him to the world to ashes.

In just one exchange, Zecarius the Sufferer was reduced to ashes by Ivy's dragon breath.

While Ivy was surprised by the result, it wasn't entirely unexpected. His Golden Dragon Breath was indeed a formidable weapon against undead creatures, possessing a fourfold advantage.

As an undead creature, the lich would normally suffer double the damage from the Radiant Light. However, when Ivy embarked on the Mythic Path, she selected the "Mastery of Golden Dragon's Breath" effect, which, along with "Disintegrate Breath," could deal additional Radiant Light damage to non-living creatures, equivalent to the damage from "Golden Dragon's Breath." This resulted in a total of four times the damage, which was understandable given the lich's slender build.

However, the ability to break through Zecarius's multiple protective spells and cleanly penetrate his bone wall and death cloud was thanks to the [Mastery of Golden Dragon Breath] skill Ivy had selected when she reached the second tier of Mythic difficulty.

[Dispelling Breath] can dispel all mental effects and magical effects within the breath's range, regardless of whether the target is friend or foe.

This is commonly known as skinning.

For a magic master like Zecarius, losing protective magic is no different from running naked. After being hit in the face with a Radiant Breath that is four times weaker, it's not surprising that he ended up turning to ashes.

Ivy smiled silently. Putting everything else aside, the Mythical Golden Dragon was indeed a complete counter to undead creatures.

The Grimoire of Destruction swirled around, and Zechariah's phylactery, that simple battle staff, materialized from a sketch, landed in Ivy's hands.

The surging necromancy magic around Ivy surged wildly, forming a ghastly green vortex, and at the center of the vortex was Zecarius's wand.

The high concentration of necromancy magic summoned by Ivy became the perfect condition for the lich's resurrection. In just a few breaths, Zecarius's skull emerged from the vortex of pale green clouds, staring at Ivy in shock and anger. It took him a long time to finally speak: "What have you done!"

“I’m just showing you that I can easily destroy you.” Ivy smiled politely, used the mithril wand in her other hand to push Zecarius’s skull away from her, and then channeled necromancy to create another skeletal body for him.

"Haven't I made myself clear?" Zechariah practically roared, having probably never experienced such emotional turmoil in the past hundred years combined. "If you don't return my phylactery, I'll be imprisoned here by that foolish oath, a pathetic prisoner! Even if you have the power to destroy me, so what? Without returning the phylactery, I can only guard this dilapidated church for you!"

Zechariah is a lich, and a lich who yearns for freedom. However, before achieving true freedom, he still needs to ensure his continued existence in the world. After all, becoming a lich means having endless time to study magic, so ensuring his phylactery is not destroyed is also his core desire.

After Ivy demonstrated the power to completely destroy him, Zecarius no longer appeared arrogant; at least he was able to verbally admit defeat.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Master Zecarius.” Ivy tapped her head with her finger. “I value the knowledge in your head more, about the lich conversion ritual, and those profound necromancy spells.”

"Don't even think about it! I won't share my research findings with someone..." Zecarius caught sight of the golden mist gathering behind Ivy again and abruptly stopped his roar, "...We haven't reached any agreement. Even if I share my knowledge with you, it doesn't guarantee I won't be met with your dragon breath!"

“That does sound like it.” Ivy rubbed her chin and nodded.

Zecarius was undoubtedly relieved: "So, you should find me an apprentice... let him or her return my life box to me... and then I will pass on my knowledge to him... leave here and join your Crusade, and together end the demon's conspiracy in the World's Tragedy... how about it? We have a common goal and should not be enemies."

“No, returning the phylactery to a lich like you is far too risky.” Ivy shook his head and refused; he could not possibly give up the opportunity to control the lich Zecharias.

“Then I can only wait another hundred years, waiting for another worthy Crusader.” Zecarius said blankly. The current situation was extremely unfavorable to him. His life casket was in the enemy's hands, and the enemy had a way to easily destroy his lich body. He was completely at the mercy of the enemy. If it weren't for the oath he made a hundred years ago, perhaps he would already be a prisoner or slave in another sense. Thinking of this, Zecarius was even somewhat grateful to his naive self from back then.

"How about we make a bet?" Ivy said.

"What are we betting on?" Zechariah asked warily.

"Let's bet on whether I can get you to serve in the Holy Army without breaking your oath." Ivy raised an eyebrow and smiled confidently.

“You can’t do it,” Zecarius said without hesitation. “There is no other way to break the oath except by returning the casket to me.”

“Anything is possible,” Ivy said. “You should at least hear what the stakes are, right?”

Zecarius gave Ivy a scrutinizing look, then silently nodded: "Speak."

“If I succeed, you will share your knowledge with me without reservation and pledge your allegiance to me until the world’s woes are over,” Ivy said calmly. “If I fail, I will find you a qualified apprentice and return your life box intact.”

“Not enough,” Zecarius said coldly. “You also need to promise not to initiate a conflict with me.”

“No problem.” Ivy was starting to appreciate Zecarius; at least he still had the ability to assess the situation and hadn’t used the betting as an excuse to make exorbitant demands.

"Alright, I won. Go find me an apprentice."

Ivy had just agreed to Zechariah's conditions when the lich declared that he had already won.

Ivy was somewhat taken aback; he hadn't even started casting the spell yet!

“There’s no way for me to leave here except by returning the Life Box to me,” Zecarius sneered. “You’ve lost.”

"Hi!" Footsteps and greetings came from the corridor. "I thought it would be dark down there! Who came up with the idea of ​​using these golden flames for lighting?"

Irina led her group of friends into Zecarius's cell, waving to Ivy from a distance.

“Very well, someone qualified has appeared.” Zecarius chuckled, revealing his two rows of teeth. “Quickly give her my phylactery, and then let me preside over her lich conversion ritual!”

“Human perception is limited by one’s own perspective. Even if Zecarius is a genius with extraordinary talent, he can’t escape the fate of being a frog in a well.” Ivy turned to look at Irina. “Has the goddess statue above been moved?”

“I saw Irabes find a few Tansen Floating Disc Scrolls. They should have been moved by now, right? Was that your order? Are we planning to rebuild a church for the goddess Iomede?” Irina came to Ivy’s side and gestured towards Zecarius not far away. “Is that skull really that Zecarius the Suicide Savior? Is he going to turn me into a lich?”

The divine descendant, Daelan, burst into exaggerated laughter: "What's going on? Zecharias is a blasphemous walking corpse? A legendary martyr? A paragon of justice? I have at least five, no, six acquaintances from the most pious noble families who use this name! I should write to everyone in Nerozian immediately to tell them about this—but to whom should I write first? The noble Baron Zecharias, or the venerable Abbess Zecharia?"

"Quiet." Ivy glanced at the progenitor, who reluctantly shut his mouth.

“Now, I’m going to begin the spell.” Ivy pulled a glass ball from the Grimoire of Destruction. The large diamond at the top of the mithril staff refracted a rainbow of colors, illuminating the entire basement through the floating crystal ball.

Ilinica and her companions raised their arms to cover their faces, squinting as they surveyed their surroundings.

The entire basement was bathed in Ivy's magical light. Every old book on the bookshelf, every faded brick on the wall, and every floorboard beneath everyone's feet trembled in the dazzling light.

"What's going on?" the demonic thief cried out in terror. "Are we going to be buried underground?"

No one could answer his question, because something even stranger happened.

All objects illuminated by the light were distorted to varying degrees, as if an unseen hand was treating the surrounding space like a pool of water, stirring it up wantonly. The glass sphere that continuously refracted the light was the center of all this distortion.

Everything in the basement was suspended, swirling and crowded together, the blocks of color indistinguishable from one another, all stretched and compressed, crammed into the crystal ball. The surrounding light grew brighter and brighter, and the blocks of color stirred faster and faster. Ilinica and her companions felt a dizzying sensation, their heads spinning uncontrollably.

"Oh my god! I'm going to fall in!" Fox Nie Niu grabbed his ears and shouted at Ilinica, "If he really intends to turn you into a lich, you must remember what it feels like! Then find a chance to write it down in the Encyclopedia of Glalieon! I might not have a chance to finish it—wait...aren't we in the basement? What kind of magic is this?"

Illinika and her bewildered companions rose to their feet, astonished to find themselves standing amidst a group of Crusaders. Not far away stood Irabeth, her mouth agape, with several paladins behind her, their hands tied to the statue of Iomede.

"Where did the church go?" Erabes had no time to pay attention to the suddenly appearing knight commander. "That was a Crusader artifact that existed for a century!"

“Don’t worry. I’ve kept it safe.” Ivy waved the glass ball in her hand.

Inside the once pure and transparent glass sphere, there is now a small building, which looks exactly like the lost church.
Beneath the broken vault of the church, Zechariah, with his skull on his head, seemed to be shouting, but not a single word could be uttered. Only the swirling snowflakes falling from his head added a touch of melancholy and absurdity to the scene.

The lich, still weakened from its resurrection, was pitifully imprisoned in the snow globe by Ivy.

(End of this chapter)