Chapter 423: High-Tier Mage! Why Are You Running Naked?!

Energy inside the White Dragon Lord frantically surged into the orb of light until it could hold no more.

Legendary magic—Domain of the Zero Realm!

The ice-blue orb shot toward the fleeing Lord of the Corrosive Marsh, expanding as it flew until it swallowed both the demon and the White Dragon Lord. Pure ice elements poured madly into their bodies.

The Domain of the Zero Realm was not a lethal legendary magic. Rather, it was a domain spell designed to create a specialized environment, rapidly spiking the concentration of ice elements in the area.

The highly concentrated ice elements were a great supplement for the White Dragon Lord, but for the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh, they were a deadly poison. Feeling its body growing increasingly stiff, it finally understood the White Dragon Lord's intent—a live capture.

The Lord of the Corrosive Marsh felt humiliated but was utterly helpless. This white dragon was unusually cautious. Even though he wielded a Divine Artifact and held an absolute advantage in strength, he refused to take risks, constantly maintaining a safe distance and using long-range magic to wear his foe down.

The white dragon controlled the ambient ice elements, commanding them to attack his enemy and steadily drain the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh's power. The high concentration of ice elements had also expelled all other elements, rendering the demon unable to draw on external energies to cast spells. It could only quietly wait for the inevitable end.

After casting several more legendary magic spells, the White Dragon Lord finally saw his opening.

Continuously eroded by the ice elements and unable to replenish its energy, the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh had slowed drastically. It failed to completely dodge a Ray of Frost, which struck its ankle. Its running speed plummeted, forcing it to take to the sky.

And leaving the ground was exactly what the White Dragon Lord wanted.

Freeze!

The ice elements materialized into solid ice, trapping the airborne Lord of the Corrosive Marsh inside.

Even with his enemy trapped, the White Dragon Lord did not approach. Instead, he continued chanting.

Touch of Chaos!

Feeblemind!

Daze!

...

A long string of negative status spells turned the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh's mind to mush. The White Dragon Lord finally drew near, casting Soul Magic.

Soul-Seizing Hand!

A massive hand of Soul Energy phased through the solid ice and ripped out the soul of the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh. The White Dragon Lord sealed it away inside a Soul-Imprisoning Bottle.

Inside the transparent crystal bottle—which was smaller than one of the dragon's fingernails—the soul of the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh roared in fury. Through the glass, the White Dragon Lord listened to the former Abyssal Lord's curses, which now sounded like nothing more than the whimpers of a beaten dog.

Curse of Slumber!

Under the spell's effects, the soul of the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh fell into a deep sleep. The White Dragon Lord stowed away the demon's frozen husk and hurried toward the treasure cache.

The battle had cost the White Dragon Lord nearly ten minutes. Given his absolute advantage in strength, taking ten minutes to end the fight seemed a bit slow. However, his goal had been a live capture, and the difficulty of capturing a foe versus killing one belonged to entirely different levels. In that light, it wasn't slow at all.

When the White Dragon Lord reached the cache, he discovered that the swamp frozen by the Frost Field had been torn wide open. The ground was littered with scars of strong acid corrosion—the handiwork of the Lord of Putrid Silt.

Right now, the Lord of Putrid Silt was being hunted down by Mage Alan. Spatial magic was incredibly fast and boasted tremendous lethal power; the Lord of Putrid Silt had no way to shake Mage Alan off.

After the White Dragon Lord joined the fray, the Lord of Putrid Silt only lasted another dozen seconds before being frozen solid.

"Another High-Tier Legend sacrifice."

The White Dragon Lord sealed the frozen Lord of Putrid Silt into a scroll. Sharing a knowing look with Mage Alan, he flew toward the treasure cache.

The treasure was buried beneath the swamp. Having first been frozen by the White Dragon Lord's chill and then ravaged by the battle between Mage Alan and the Lord of Putrid Silt, the outer perimeter of the cache had completely collapsed.

Fortunately, the White Dragon Lord's massive body made quick work of clearing away the surface permafrost, revealing the buried core chamber.

"Good thing this core chamber is well-built. It hasn't been breached."

The memories of the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh's clone contained the method to unlock it. The White Dragon Lord shifted into his dragonkin form, directly opened the chamber doors, and stepped inside alongside Mage Alan.

The secret chamber was not large. The interior was shaped like a cube, with a ring of stone pedestals lining the walls. Atop the pedestals sat the collections of the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh. Every single one of these items was a heavily magical, priceless treasure; bringing any of them into the outside world would ignite a bloody war.

Yet the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan didn't spare these valuables a single glance. Their eyes were drawn to the Altar in the center of the room. It was formed by three stacked circular platforms engraved with profane runes. A brazier burned at its peak.

This was no ordinary brazier. It was covered in sickly green profane runes, and a miniature demonic skull was set into each of its four sides. The White Dragon Lord could hear the silent wails echoing from within the skulls; each one imprisoned a tortured soul belonging to the four demons themselves.

This was an incredibly cruel living-forging technique, and a common method used by Abyssal Lords and Lords of Hell to punish rebels.

First, the subject of the living-forge had to be alive. Through a special magical ritual, the Abyssal Lord would forcibly compress the living subject with magic, concentrating the entirety of their power and essence into their skull, leaving not even their soul a chance to escape.

Because the steps for living-forging were tedious and the precious materials difficult to gather, even Abomination Rank Abyssal Lords wouldn't use it frequently. However, whenever it was used, a powerful evil artifact would be born into the world.

But here, this powerful evil artifact served merely as a vessel. Resting within the vessel was a cluster of sickly green flames—Abyssal Fire.

Abyssal Fire was a special flame created by an Abyssal Lord in imitation of a deity's divine fire. It contained the Abyssal Lord's comprehension of a certain worldly law. If the Lord of Putrid Silt obtained it, a new Abyssal Lord would be born.

Even to non-demonic creatures, Abyssal Fire was a rare treasure, far more precious than Divinity itself. If one had to find an item of equivalent value, Abyssal Fire could rival a small fragment of a shattered divine spark.

"Amos, I owe you one."

The White Dragon Lord nodded, and Mage Alan walked toward the Altar.

According to their prior agreement, Mage Alan, as the provider of the intelligence, enjoyed the right of first pick for the spoils. However, the White Dragon Lord had been the absolute main force in this adventure. Taking the most valuable prize made Mage Alan feel somewhat embarrassed, prompting him to say he owed the dragon a favor.

The White Dragon Lord also knew what Mage Alan intended to do. Though non-demonic creatures couldn't directly use Abyssal Fire, they could purify it before absorbing it. While the effects would be weaker than the original, it still offered tremendous benefits. Mage Alan wanted to use this opportunity to break through the barrier to the Abomination Rank.

Mage Alan stowed the Abyssal Fire, and the White Dragon Lord gathered the remaining items in the chamber. After confirming the room had been picked clean, the White Dragon Lord turned to leave, but Mage Alan called out to him.

"Amos! I can hardly wait!" Mage Alan said, visibly excited. "I'm heading back first."

The White Dragon Lord chuckled. "It seems I'm about to gain an Abomination Rank mage friend. Good luck, Alan."

"Mm. And I wish you the best as well."

Mage Alan teleported away. The White Dragon Lord took flight toward the frozen Temple of Rise and Fall. He had left in such a hurry earlier that he hadn't collected any of the spoils from the temple.

Although the collection of a High-Tier Legend demon lord was of little use to an Abomination Rank powerhouse, the White Dragon Lord oversaw a massive household. He still had three younger siblings and a horde of dependents to feed.

Even if he had no use for it himself, it would be good for his dependents.

True to his principle of wasting nothing, the White Dragon Lord arrived at the frozen Temple of Rise and Fall and fell into deep thought as he surveyed the devastated ruins.

How long would it take to clean all this up?!

Destroying it had felt great at the time, but digging out the loot was turning into a headache.

After a moment's thought, the White Dragon Lord sent a message to Gurgalu, ordering him to teleport over with some men.

It wasn't long before Gurgalu and Hogger teleported to the White Dragon Lord's side, bringing along several legendary practitioners and five hundred Master Tier subordinates.

The White Dragon Lord pointed to the ruins beside him. "Your mission is to squeeze every last drop of value out of this demon city."

Without any hesitation or doubt, Gurgalu led the troops into the intense labor. Since the Temple of Rise and Fall had been heavily devastated by the White Dragon Lord and glazed over with a thick layer of ice, Gurgalu was forced to use flames to melt the frost before lifting the rubble to search for valuables.

The White Dragon Lord shifted into his dragonkin form. He crafted a chair out of ice, pulled out a Spellbook, and sat to the side, reading leisurely.

Not long after, he sensed several unfamiliar auras stepping into his perception range. They were adventurers from the adventurer camp, drawn over by the commotion of the earlier battle.

Thanks to the romanticization of third-rate knight novels, many people viewed adventurers as brave explorers. The reality was quite the opposite. The vast majority of adventurers were like greedy hyenas, unwilling to pass up any opportunity to strike it rich, even if it meant robbing their fellow adventurers.

Of course, the White Dragon Lord wasn't worried in the slightest about his loot being stolen. He wouldn't mind providing his kobold miners with a few more companions.

By now, a group of adventurers was watching from a distance, with some mages using crude detection magic like Eagle Eye to scout the area. The terrifying two-headed ogre standing upon the ruins had cowed them.

The White Dragon Lord hadn't planned on paying these adventurers any mind, but he sensed the aura of the legendary ranger from Boar's Howl and sent a telepathic transmission over.

"Velen Woodstrider, the Boar's Howl Adventurer Group may enter to search for spoils. Whatever you find is yours to keep."

Although the intelligence provided by Boar's Howl hadn't been terribly useful, they had still put in the hard work, so the White Dragon Lord was willing to share the ruins' spoils with them.

Hearing the White Dragon Lord's words and recognizing his voice, the half-elf ranger bowed in the dragon's direction before rallying his companions to search for loot.

Atop the frozen city ruins, the two groups searched for spoils without interfering with one another.

Seeing that Boar's Howl hadn't been attacked, the other adventurers felt a surge of relief and also began marching toward the ruins.

Pondering for a moment, the White Dragon Lord ignored them. He wanted to see how Gurgalu would handle it, so he simply went back to reading his book in peace.

On the other end, Gurgalu saw the mob of adventurers approaching and cast a confused glance at the White Dragon Lord. The dragon had notified him before the Boar's Howl group arrived, but these adventurers...

No matter how you looked at it, they seemed like opportunistic trespassers looking to scavenge a cheap score.

Seeing that the White Dragon Lord didn't even lift his head from his book, Gurgalu understood that his master didn't want to get involved. The Ogre looked at the adventurers, then down at the ruins beneath his feet, and dispatched magical transmissions to his subordinates.

Even though the White Dragon Lord's eyes were fixed on the pages, his perception blanketed the entire area; nothing in the field could escape his senses. He felt the monster army slowly spreading toward the edges of the ruins, yet remaining entirely at peace with the adventurers.

As expected of my subordinates!

The White Dragon Lord kept his head down and continued reading. Nearby, the monster army and the horde of adventurers scoured the ruins. Gasps of excitement over discovering good items rang out from time to time, and several scuffles broke out over the loot.

The law of the jungle—the strong preying on the weak—played out across the ruins in stark, bloody clarity. The souls of the weak ascended to the heavens while the strong carved up everything they owned.

Of course, the monster army was by no means weak, and no one dared to target them.

Scoured by the host of greedy adventurers, it only took three hours for the Temple of Rise and Fall to be turned completely upside down.

Having found no new spoils for quite a while, their greed ebbed and reason returned. The adventurers in the center of the ruins finally noticed something was wrong. Without them realizing it, the monster army had fanned out and surrounded the perimeter of the ruins. Panic gripped their hearts, cold sweat beading on their foreheads as they hurried outward.

But it was too late. The monster army had completely encircled the ruins.

"Halt!" an Ogre barked, blocking an adventurer trying to flee. "Hand over your things before you go!"

"On what gro—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, a giant Spiked Club smashed down on his head. The adventurer frantically raised his sword to block, only to be crushed into pieces alongside his blade.

Flinging the blood off his Spiked Club, the Ogre glared ferociously at the surrounding adventurers. "On the grounds of this weapon in my hands!"

The adventurers drew their weapons, ready to break out, when suddenly a terrifying pressure enveloped the field. The adventurers went weak in the knees, feeling as though they were being stared down by a primordial beast.

"Nobody move! Anyone who moves gets butchered!"

Gripping a Totem Pillar in one hand and the Combat Staff of Caucasus in the other, Gurgalu swept his gaze across the crowd. "Now, line up in front of me and hand over the spoils. Anyone who tries to run will only find a dead end."

A Master Tier rogue tried to stealth away, but a legendary gnoll slapped him right out of his invisibility with a single claw swipe, leaving him dead in a pool of blood.

Cowed by Gurgalu and the monster army, the adventurers formed into several long lines and were searched one by one by the horde.

A gnoll roughly snatched the staff from a High-Tier Mage's hands.

The High-Tier Mage panicked. "I brought this staff with me!"

"Keep whining and I'll say I brought you, too! Take off the robes! And strip off the rest of your gear! Then you can leave! If you dare try to hide anything... heh heh!" The gnoll flashed its claws.

The High-Tier Mage sprinted away practically naked.

Very soon, aside from the members of Boar's Howl, all the remaining adventurers had been stripped clean.

Gurgalu approached the White Dragon Lord with the spoils. "Master, the loot collection is complete, and we saved quite a bit of time."