In the distance, the lava flowed like seawater, and the scorching red light it emitted cast the entire area in a fiery crimson hue.
The surrounding rock walls had long since been eroded by this wave of scorching heat, becoming incredibly hot to the touch and faintly glowing with a crimson light.
Over the long years, the stones on these rock walls had become no weaker than some metal Ores.
At this moment!
In a huge cave at the very top of the rock wall, a massive Dragon with its entire body covered in crimson scales was resting comfortably on a pile of treasures consisting mainly of red gems and Ores.
It was sleeping.
There was no need to get close; the aura it emitted invisibly was far beyond that of a powerhouse in the Hero-class Domain.
Hooo—
The sleeping Dragon would occasionally exhale a wave of scorching heat from its nostrils.
However, its body, which had been relaxed in sleep, suddenly shuddered, as if it had sensed something.
Hum!
The Dragon snapped its eyes open, raised its long, crimson-scaled neck, and revealed a pair of crimson pupils that looked like burning flames.
An expression of arrogance, ferocity, and intelligence flashed in its eyes, only to be immediately replaced by confusion.
Clatter!
The sudden movement caused a large number of gems beneath it to roll away, creating a dense clattering sound.
"It seems there was a powerful magical fluctuation." The Dragon tilted its head, its ancient and majestic voice echoing throughout the cave.
That powerful magical fluctuation had disappeared the instant it appeared, enough to startle it from its sleep with its great perception as part of the Dragon Clan.
As for whether it was an illusion?
Whoosh—
Its wide, thick, fiery-red wings flapped slightly, sending two massive flames rippling through the cave, causing the temperature to rise by several degrees.
The great Teoruuna!
How could it be an illusion!
In the dark cave, a pair of fierce, crimson eyes flickered slightly.
The land of "Terror."
The aura of the Undead permeated this land without restraint; this was a huge, dilapidated city located in the middle of the barren land.
The day belongs to the world of the living, while the night belongs to the dead. Especially in this land filled with the aura of the Undead, it had completely transformed into a paradise for the dead.
"Hiss—woo—"
The chilling cries from the rotten vocal cords of Undead vultures echoed in the air.
Skeletons and low-level zombie constructs wandered across this land and throughout the entire city.
Step—step—
Footsteps, distinct from the hurried pace of the Undead, rang out on the dilapidated streets.
Khajiit carried various precious magical Materials, rarely seen in the outside world, in his arms. He carefully skirted around these Undead and headed toward a three-story inn-style building located in the center of the dilapidated city.
Although he was a living person, as a Necromancer, he naturally had ways to make these Undead ignore him.
Khajiit walked briskly, occasionally looking up at a towering black tower in the most central and conspicuous part of the city.
This was a special building with absolutely no windows, looking as if it had been constructed as a single piece. Even in the dead of night, this black tower was still very distinct. Its jet-black exterior seemed even deeper than the night itself.
That was where the true master of this dilapidated land resided, and he and his leader were merely visitors.
The closer one got to the center, the more one could feel the negative energy permeating the air.
A flash of fervor and fear crossed Khajiit's eyes. Relying on the negative energy here, if he were to perform the "Spiral of Death" ritual, he might just succeed.
This thought had just flashed through his mind before being quickly extinguished by Khajiit. Although several months had passed since his resurrection, his strength had not fully recovered, especially having lost the "Orb of Death," which left him without confidence.
Damn bastard!