Nearly a quarter of the Undead Legion had been completely annihilated under the overwhelming assault of the Red Iron Dragon, with the battlefield covered in remnants of bones and scattered soul fires, like a grey-white carpet of death.
Yet, the giant dragon, majestic as a mountain, with scale armor as hard as iron, still appeared unhurried, brimming with fighting spirit.
Its black and red interwoven dragon scales bore clear, carved-like battle scar patterns, as if carrying the mories and glory of countless battles, emanating an endless, overwhelming power.
"Damn it... how could I encounter such an unbelievably strong dragon?"
The witch demon’s soul fire flickered intensely in his sockets; for a mont, he could barely suppress the tremor from deep within his soul.
He faced an unprecedented difficult choice.
To risk everything and continue the death battle, or to retreat and minimize losses?
Centuries of accumulation, tens of thousands of undead troops, had suffered heavy losses in this unexpected skirmish.
To abandon now, he could not reconcile with himself.
Moreover, although his life level had fallen to the 18th level, with so distance from reattaining a legendary status, his soul essence still bore the mark of legendary.
With his witch demon body, he could fully overload his soul’s original power, briefly unleashing so of the true power belonging to the legendary domain.
But even if doing so, he still couldn’t suppress this Red Iron Dragon, born seemingly for battle... he would lose not just the legion.
His soul would deteriorate into chaos from over-exhaustion, starting to transform into an undead, losing in a mont the accumulation of centuries; he might even lose his sanity, forced into eternal slumber.
At that ti, all ambitions and resentnts would beco void laughs.
Eventually, the calm and weighing belonging to his human tis finally prevailed, temporarily surpassing the undead’s near-instinctual greed towards the living.
Phillips made up his mind: Retreat, retreat at all costs.
Preserve the remaining forces, change the target, and once he reclaims his legendary position, return to the Ximu Territory to drag this Red Iron Dragon and its domain into the realm of death.
"So decided."
"Full retreat of the army—!"
However, at the right flank edge of the undead legion, behind a mindless, staggering common skeleton warrior, there was a barely detectable ripple in space.
A Cross Knight Sword, glowing with sacred silver light, silently erged, fiercely striking towards the skeleton’s posterior skull.
Accurate, ruthless, trying to penetrate its soul fire core with one strike.
But just as the sword tip was about to touch the pale skull, it seed to hit an invisible yet unbreakable barrier, all montum absorbed instantly, progressing no further.
Shire erged from the void, frowning deeply.
His wrist flicked swiftly, and the Cross Sword transford into a skyful of silver light shadows, enveloping the skeleton like a storm.
The sword edges scread tearing through the air, enough to instantly shatter fine steel armor, but landing on the target, it couldn’t even leave the tiniest scratch.
"Sothing’s wrong!"
Shire’s pupils suddenly contracted, alarm bells rang wildly in his mind.
It wasn’t that his attack couldn’t break through the defense, but that every sword technique touching the opponent’s body surface was completely isolated by an invisible and absolute barrier.
As if to respond to his doubts.
The soul fire in the skeleton’s eyes exploded with terrifying dark black light, and dense negative energy flas erupted around it, instantly engulfing the frail fra.
The next mont, it shed all disguises.
The shriveled, blackened flesh rapidly covered the bones, the withered, sinister face twisted and deford—revealing the true form of Phillips the Witch Demon.
—Paralyzing Touch!
Phillips waved his withered claw, countless invisible yet chilling negative energy tendrils appeared out of thin air, entwining towards Shire like erging serpents.
Simultaneously, several elite skeleton guards and terror corpse demons roared, encircling from all sides, collaborating with the witch demon’s magic, instantly sealing all Shire’s evasion space.
Shire swiftly retreated, his sword danced into a silver screen, narrowly avoiding the erosion of Paralyzing Touch, while dodging the malicious claw strike from a gargoyle.
Without any hesitation, he stepped backward into the void once more.
The next second, he reappeared under the massive wing shadow of the Red Iron Dragon, breath slightly erratic.
"My Lord, that fellow is extrely peculiar."
Speaking with unprecedented gravity, Shire quickly said: "He can wield an absolute defense similar to the legendary domain, but the actual energy intensity has not reached the true legendary threshold. I surmise he might have been legendary in life, transford into a witch demon after death, causing a drop in realm, but still retaining so legendary tier traits and abilities."
Galos’ Dragon Eyes remained razor-sharp, firmly locking onto the distant witch demon.
On the other end, Phillips was also staring back at the Red Iron Dragon with those two deep soul fires, the corners of his withered lips seemingly pulled into a cold arc.
"Heh... extraordinary dragon, your strength far exceeds my initial expectations, worthy of being called a formidable foe."
The witch demon’s voice sounded coarse, like bones scraping together.
"As that perceptive yet overconfident human servant of yours speculated, I, Phillips, once stood atop peaks and glimpsed scenes beyond legendary."
"Now, rely temporarily stuck in a valley."
He paused slightly, as if weighing his words, then continued: "You have shown your worth through your power, therefore, I am willing to offer you a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity."
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