Red Dragon, but chosen by all four gods

"This matter has been reported to the 'Soulfire' lords. More than one 'Soulfire' lord believes that it is very likely that the withered one's magical ritual caused significant damage to the golden dragon, which led her to hunt down the withered one like a madwoman for several years."

"To reward the one who carried out this plan, Moradin Boneforge, you have demonstrated your worth to the Tantric community. From today onwards, you may move your life casket to the second level."

"Yes! Thank you, sir!"

Moradin had not expected the reward to be so generous.

It is important to know that advancement in each level of the Tomb of the Dead is extremely difficult, and the resources and power vary greatly between each level.

The second layer is mostly "skulls", which means he is likely also qualified to advance to the "skull" level!

Lazor nodded slightly: "Since the loss of the Golden Dragon is related to those fledglings, you should summarize all the details of the fledglings you have observed for the 'Soulfire' lords to study."

"Our Silent Cult is different from the Dragon Bone Oath. Many living five-colored dragons are also our allies. Perhaps these young dragons can help us strike the Golden Dragon again in the future."

Moradin dared not delay. After becoming a lich, he could hardly have any positive emotions. Therefore, he had to suppress his joy and compile all the details he could think of on the bone tablet handed to him by Lazor.

"Alright, you may leave." Lazor retracted the bone plate.

"Yes."

Moradin lowered his head and withdrew from Lazor's tomb.

Just as they were about to return to the upper tomb to move things, they discovered that the gray-robed lich who had been standing to the side of Razor had also retreated.

"Congratulations on your great achievement and advancement to the second level. I will need to learn from you in the future."

Moradin glanced at the unfamiliar lich and confirmed that this soul power was quite unfamiliar and much weaker than his previous one, probably only at the level of a normal "bone finger".

As a "Bone Hand", he often leads "Bone Fingers" on missions, and he has never been seen in the first level of the Death Tomb before.

Are they newcomers to Tantric Buddhism in recent years?

Although he was promoted, he may even be on par with Lazor in the future.

However, considering that the other party seemed to have gained Lord Lazor's trust and that he was far from being able to advance to the third level, he nodded slightly.

"That's natural."

The hierarchy within the Silent Cult is extremely rigid, and those who have been transformed into liches have no positive feelings for each other; this behavior is already considered quite friendly.

"What's your name?"

"Frank... As for titles, I am not yet qualified to have them."

Although liches don't have any expression, Moradin inexplicably detected a faint smile in his tone.

He had never heard of this name before.

"I've got it."

After saying this, Moradin stepped into the passage first.

After Moradin left, the space inside the passage changed, and a new path leading to the first floor was generated. Frank also entered the passage.

However, he walked with a swaying gait, as if he were a living person in a good mood.

……

On a barren, yellowish-brown land, one can occasionally see adventurers carrying weapons, searching everywhere.

Villages of all sizes are scattered throughout this land, striving to extract resources from the land to support their small families.

This land was so barren, its color like the afterglow of a setting sun, that it offered no hope.

Therefore, people in other parts of the mainland call this place "Sunset Peninsula".

However, this peninsula is vast enough that it is said to be a gathering place for "elves" during the Golden Age.

At that time, its name was "Emerald Peninsula".

Whether before or after the Godfall Era, a terrifying magical plague swept through this place, extinguishing all life on this land.

Large and small magical entities kept coalescing, turning this place into a dangerous yet rare source of magical materials.

To this day, the elf inheritors on the other side of the Sea of ​​Horrors still cherish the memory of their glory on this land.

"boom!"

A blazing fireball shot out, shattering a newly born magical entity.

"here you go!"

A man wielding a longsword rushed out, enduring the scorching heat, and reached the magical entity. Before it could reassemble, he swung his sword wildly inside its body.

The magical structure is constantly being destroyed, and the stability of magical entities is getting worse and worse.

Soon, the magical entity emitted an unstable aura and began to tremble violently.

"Watch out, back off quickly!"

As a concerned female voice rang out, a magical shield appeared on the man who was retreating rapidly, perfectly blocking the splashing stream of magic power.

The magical entity completely disintegrated. The man, who hadn't retreated far, immediately seized the opportunity, took a special bag from his waist, and hurriedly collected the magical dust scattered on the ground.

Nevertheless, much of the magical dust that had not been collected quickly deteriorated and dissipated, leaving behind only a pile of useless powder.

"You shouldn't touch the magical dust directly with your hands; the dissipated magic could cause instability in your bloodline."

The girl who had come before him gritted her teeth: "Perhaps some unknown anomalies will occur."

"There's no time to deal with it slowly, otherwise we'd lose a lot of money. Those robed people are willing to pay a lot of gold coins for this kind of magical dust... Of course, you're a robed person too."

The man scratched his head nonchalantly; he had already undergone quite a few changes.

Extra toes, calves covered in snake scales, bone spurs growing on the joints...

"However, Finn, you really should be careful. It would be such a waste if someone with such a stable bloodline as yours were to mutate."

The man slightly shifted his gaze. He liked Finn, but that didn't mean he wanted to keep her.

Seeing Finn's silence, the man realized that what he had said was somewhat inappropriate, so he changed the subject:

"Fin, you must really need this magic dust, right? Why do you always just take the gold coins from me? It'll be much more expensive to buy it outside."

"I need gold coins; I also have many people of my tribe to support."

Finn looked somewhat somber: "They're not used to this land... I don't have any good ideas."

Rig knew there must be a lot of hidden stories behind this.

A tribe capable of supporting a spellcaster wouldn't be too small; relying on individuals to support them would be exhausting.

No wonder Finn, a spellcaster in robes, had been following him around collecting magical dust in the most dangerous places.

However, who on the Sunset Peninsula can say they are doing well? Perhaps only the southern countries are doing better?

He heard from travelers that there were fewer desolate wastelands and fewer calamities over there, and everything was incredibly prosperous.

Rig had never been there, but he felt that Finn was capable of escaping the Fallen Wilderness and visiting the southern kingdoms.

He was all alone, and if Finn were too, he could go with Finn to see things.

However, he could only think about this in his mind and couldn't say it out loud.

"Here are fifteen gold coins, the reward split equally. You can take them back and use them first. I'll go find the robed man to sell magic dust myself."

"No, I've inquired, the market price should be ten gold coins, I can't..." Finn immediately stopped him.

Finn gritted his teeth and finally accepted the gold coins.

"I will repay you."

"Okay, I'm waiting."

The two parted ways, and Rig walked back humming an unnamed tune.

He didn't actually lose that much. If he spent a little more time, he could always find mages who were in a hurry to use magic dust, and they would offer a higher price...

Suddenly, a huge shadow enveloped him.

He looked up and saw a huge, dark red beast.

"Dragon... a giant dragon!"

He blurted it out, and fear instantly made his legs go weak.

Dragons, especially red dragons, are practically synonymous with calamity.

Fortunately, the dragon paid no attention to an ant and flew straight toward the northwest.

He remembered the way Finn went back; it was that way.

For some reason, Rig suddenly turned a corner and took off chasing after the dragon's figure.