NOVPUBLin Moyu was just giving it a shot.
The Summon Elemental Lich skill required materials with elemental attributes.
On the surface, there was no indication which element the Dreadbeast Bone held. But its regenerative property made him suspect it might hold a special element.
After all, the world contained far more than just the common elements like fire, wind, or light. Many were obscure—some even unknown.
With a “might as well try” mindset, Lin Moyu activated the skill.
The skill's light gradually intensified.
His six Elemental Lich slots were already full. To summon a new one, he’d need to replace one.
After some thought, he chose the Light Lich—it was currently the least useful, mainly effective against Abyssal Demons. Plus, he still had three Light Crystals left. If needed, he could summon it again later.
The ash gray light intensified—brighter, yet never harsh. Gentle, almost soothing. He had never seen a light like this before.
From within it, a new Elemental Lich emerged, cloaked in ash gray.
[Platinum Elemental Lich]
[Level: 50]
[Strength: 90,000]
[Agility: 90,000]
[Spirit: 90,000]
[Physique: 90,000]
[Skill: Undying Ring]
[Undying Ring: when undead troops take a fatal blow, they will not die, and the ring of light will restore their health to 50%. Cooldown: 24 hours]
Lin Moyu was stunned as he read the description of the Undying Ring.
With this ring of light in play, his undead army had reached a new level. Even the devastating explosion attacks from the Archaic Luanniao—once capable of wiping out his entire force—could now be endured.
This dramatically boosted his survivability.
As long as the undead army lived, so would he.
Unless he faced something that completely ignored his talent and skill, he was essentially untouchable.
Replacing the Light Lich—currently redundant—for the Undying Lich was undeniably the right call.
This also confirmed his theory: elemental materials weren’t limited to the common elements—they could also include rare and unique elements.
In the future, he could try using such materials if he came across them.
Over the next eight days, they traveled more than 10,000 kilometers.
Along the way, they battled killed countless monsters and saw numerous bosses—but disappointingly, no more Battlefield Dreadbeasts appeared. Otherwise, Lin Moyu might’ve secured more Dreadbeast Bones.
They drew closer to the center.
Beams of light pierced the sky ahead, converging and scattering in the air, weaving into bands of light that stretched across the Immemorial Battlefield.
The beams of light marked Lin Moyu’s destination—the center of the upper level.
The terrain shifted again.
The smooth plains gave way to a broken landscape, where jagged black stones jutted out unevenly, making travel difficult.
As Lin Moyu stepped on it, a strange sensation struck him—it didn’t feel like ordinary rubble.
He ordered a Skeletal Berserk Warrior to strike the ground with full force.
The result: nothing. Not a single scratch. The ground was impossibly hard.
Lin Moyu narrowed his eyes, then looked to the horizon, “I’ll take a look.”
He rose into the air, eyes sweeping across the endless stretch of black stones that reached far into the horizon. Not a single monster stirred below—only silence.
Multicolored light poured from the sky, only to be swallowed by the earth beneath.
The entire landscape looked as though it had been ravaged by war, left charred and lifeless.
The longer Lin Moyu observed, the more unsettling the terrain seemed. The black stones weren’t just random protrusions—they followed a pattern.
He ascended higher, brow furrowing.
From above, the layout became clearer. The stones resembled scales on a creature’s body.
When he descended, Mu Xianxian noticed the shift in his expression, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” He said quietly. “Something’s off. I can’t explain it... but it doesn’t feel right.”
Mu Xianxian looked around. To her, the only obvious danger was the rough, uneven ground—easy to trip over, or slip into one of the many cracks.
But she trusted Lin Moyu’s instincts. If he felt something was wrong, then there probably was.
“Stay sharp.” Lin Moyu commanded his undead troops to spread out and stay alert.
The pitch-black earth stretched on endlessly. Even after an entire day of walking, there was no end in sight.
They had been moving steadily toward the beams of light, certain they were heading the right way.
Yet no matter how far they walked, the end never drew closer. The beams of light remained unchanged—never seemed any closer.
At this point, Lin Moyu could only press on.
Then, without warning, a strange wind swept through the land. It was cold and sent a shiver down Lin Moyu’s spine.
Tiny, glowing motes appeared in the air, caught in the swirling wind. They shimmered softly as they passed over Lin Moyu and Mu Xianxian.
In an instant, they were gone.
Moments later, Lin Moyu stood in a world of brilliant color.
Light pierced the sky from all directions. Countless beams converged above, painting the sky in shimmering hues.
He looked around, realization dawning, “This is the center.”
He had reached the very heart of the core area.
As for how he’d ended up here—he didn’t need to think twice.
There was only one being capable of this kind of spatial manipulation. No one else.
Mu Xianxian lay beside him, unconscious. That, too, was its doing.
It was the second time she’d been rendered unconscious by it, so Lin Moyu wasn’t surprised.
It clearly didn’t want too many people aware of its existence. Or perhaps, it simply felt most weren’t worthy of interaction.
Everything about it—its presence, its actions, even its words—oozed pride and disdain.
Lin Moyu looked up.
It was massive. Even lying down, its body resembled a small mountain. If it stood, it would easily tower over a hundred meters, likely far more.
A pair of colossal wings stretched out across the ground, their span hard to estimate.
It appeared languid, lazily lifting its eyelids to gaze at him.
“You finally came. What took you so long?” A voice thundered in his ears, deep and resonant.
Lin Moyu responded calmly, “It hasn’t been that long.”
Despite the overwhelming pressure it radiated, he remained composed and steady.
“Hmph. Your leveling speed is abysmal. Only now reaching level 50?” It scoffed.
“I was delayed by a few things,” Lin Moyu replied truthfully.
“Your level may be low, but your strength isn’t bad.” There was a short silence, then it spoke again, “Little Black, come out.”
A piercing cry echoed as a small bird wreathed in black fire soared from beneath it.
Lin Moyu’s eyes narrowed.
The Archaic Luanniao.
Only this being had the power to wrest the Archaic Luanniao from his grip.
The Archaic Luanniao let out a sharp, furious screech. Dark flames exploded from its body, crackling in the air as it glared at Lin Moyu.
Its anger was palpable—it hadn’t forgotten how close it had come to death at his hands.
“Little Black, be quiet.”
The Archaic Luanniao froze mid-screech.
Lin Moyu glanced at it, “Is it your pet?”
Its voice remained slow and lazy, “Something like that. But more importantly… I sense something on you—something I need.”
Lin Moyu instantly understood what it was referring to. To his surprise, it could even perceive items hidden within his storage space.
This Dragon was truly amazing.
He retrieved the box given to him by Righteous God and carefully took out a small bead.
The moment it saw the bead, it perked up instantly, the languidness in its eyes replaced by joy
“Did Jiang Yi ask you to deliver it?”
Lin Moyu nodded, “Yes. Righteous God asked me to bring it to you. He also said... he’s fulfilled his part of the deal and hopes you’ll uphold yours.”
The Dragon burst into laughter—a thunderous, earth-shaking roar that rippled through the air. The beams of light twisted violently in response, warping like bending glass. The very ground split apart, cracks spiderwebbing in all directions.
Lin Moyu felt a flicker of unease. Until now, he had known this creature was powerful—but he had never truly grasped the extent of its strength.
He had tested the ground himself. Not even his Skeletal Berserk Warriors’ full force had left a scratch. Yet this Dragon’s laughter alone had shattered it.
Even with his undead army, he realized now—with stark clarity—that it could be wiped out by the being with no effort at all.
The laughter faded after a while.
The Dragon opened its mouth and inhaled, and the bead vanished instantly into its mouth.
Then it spoke—no longer casual, but solemn and deep, “I will honor my promise.”
