Pretending to be a pig and eating a tiger

Sarathos was a skeleton mage who had reached the high rank of necromancer centuries ago. Within a radius of several miles, his name made every undead tremble in fear. His army boasted over three thousand skeleton soldiers, and he had taken control of a sizable crystal mine. This morning, as usual, he intended to meditate and cultivate, but for some inexplicable reason, his heart was unsettled, a growing unease gnawing at him.

"My lord Sarathos, last night, the slaves unearthed several medium-grade crystals. See, how enchanting they are! The magic contained within them is enough to elevate a skeleton mage's rank in no time!" One of his personal guards, noticing Sarathos' preoccupied state, cautiously presented the glowing crystals.

"Send orders! Gather all the guards at once!" Sarathos commanded, his voice deep and authoritative. Medium-grade crystals were exceedingly rare, and ordinarily, the discovery of so many would cause a stir throughout the entire mine. But today, he lacked the usual enthusiasm. The foreboding feeling in his heart intensified. Just as he was about to investigate, a series of alarming sounds echoed from the distance.

Crack! Crack! Roar… Crack! Crack! Roar…

The earth-shattering noises grew closer, resembling the clash of blades and the grinding of bones; each sound felt like a massive stone slamming into the ground. The vibrations grew stronger, and soon, the floor beneath him began to tremble. The delicate crystals on his desk tumbled to the floor with a clatter.

"An attack! All units, prepare for a fight to the death!" Sarathos roared, grabbing his staff and rushing out like a gust of wind. As he looked up to organize the defense, his heart froze, and his body was drenched in cold sweat.

A dark line appeared on the horizon, advancing like a tidal wave toward him. Squads of skeleton warriors formed massive, tightly packed formations, black as night, surging forward. Their numbers, though modest, were overwhelming in their momentum, like an unstoppable force.

At the front of the skeletal legion, there was an intricately carved war chariot, inscribed with runes and flying an ancient war banner. On the chariot stood a tall, imposing figure clad in a fearsome Shura battle armor. With a flick of his whip, the chariot surged forward in a whirlwind of dust, like a thunderous chariot of doom racing toward them, its speed almost unbelievable.

The Soul Summoning Banner?

Sarathos' pupils contracted, his throat dry with dread. "Heavens... this... this is Lord Ovysis's lich army!"

Who was the Lich King?

He was known as the most powerful being in a thousand-mile radius, a tyrant who could command the heavens with a single hand. For centuries, none dared to even cough loudly when passing near the Lich Castle. Though its pressure had recently waned, the terror of Lord Ovysis and his undead legions had never been questioned. Engaging directly with the Lich King's army was akin to signing one's death sentence!

Sarathos knew well that his long-standing control of the crystal mine was not due to his own strength, but because Lord Ovysis had never considered it worthy of his attention. A thousand years had passed, and now, the Lich King's army was at his doorstep, with the Lich King himself leading the charge!

Rubbing his eyes to confirm, Sarathos still found it hard to believe.

He could doubt his eyes, but the faintly familiar spiritual resonance emanating from Allen forced him to accept the grim truth: the Lich King himself was indeed leading the attack.

A thousand years ago, when Lord Ovysis ventured into the cursed valley, Sarathos had been fortunate enough to follow from afar, picking up some minor spoils, including a rare magic staff. From then on, his cultivation progressed rapidly, evolving from a lowly first-tier skeleton to a formidable fifth-tier necromancer. Time had passed, but Sarathos could never forget the overwhelming aura of Lord Ovysis and his terrifying power.

For a true master, changing one's appearance or form was trivial; only the soul's signature remained eternal. Though it was strange that the Lich King would suddenly appear in his domain, Sarathos had no doubt about Allen's true identity.

"Sarathos, I give you two choices!"

Allen, riding his Ferrari war chariot, appeared in front of Sarathos, his Shura armor gleaming coldly, leaving only his icy eyes visible. He spoke with a chilling tone, "Either join the Lich Castle's army and follow me in uniting the entire Sunless Wasteland, spreading the glory of the Lich King across every corner; or, surrender your soul fire!"

With a murderous aura, Allen was using Lord Ovysis's name to intimidate Sarathos. He intended to use this formidable adversary as a test for his new 'Skeleton Sea' tactic. If Sarathos complied, he would gain a powerful subordinate; if not, he would simply consume his soul fire!

"Follow me, and prosper! Defy me, and perish!"

"My lord, this... I..." Sarathos' face turned red. While joining the Lich Castle had many advantages, it was nothing compared to the freedom he enjoyed as a local tyrant. But refusing outright could provoke the unstoppable force of Allen. "My lord, I was wrong! I shouldn't have kept the crystals for myself. I will surrender them all now!"

After a brief hesitation, Sarathos gritted his teeth and opened his spatial ring, retrieving the medium-grade crystals he had accumulated over the years. Although these crystals were far inferior to the precious ones left behind by Ovysis, their quantity was impressive. The pile of crystals resembled a small mountain, and even Allen's eyes gleamed with interest.

"Sarathos, as a powerful necromancer, this is your failure. You treat these medium-grade crystals as treasures? These are mere scraps in the Lich Castle, worth no more than bricks!" Allen scoffed, deliberately dismissing the crystals. "Fine, I will give you one more chance. You and I will each raise three thousand skeleton soldiers. If you win, you may ask for anything you wish— even the entire Lich Castle. But if you lose, you will join the Lich Army, following me to conquer the Sunless Wasteland."

Allen's tone was cold. While others might pretend to be weak to deceive their enemies, he reversed the script, pretending to be the tiger eating the pig, using the Lich King's authority to intimidate Sarathos. Though his magical fluctuations were weak, almost akin to an apprentice, it was precisely because of this that Sarathos dared not act recklessly.

True masters are unfathomable; if the fluctuations of their soul and magic could be easily detected, it would indicate that they were no true masters at all.

Take the entire Lich Castle, you say?

Sarathos' heart skipped a beat. The more courteous Allen seemed, the colder his sweat became. Before he could even devise a plan, Allen's skeleton soldiers, led by Arno, charged forward, surrounding him with overwhelming numbers, cutting down his own soldiers with ruthless efficiency.

Though they were all first-tier skeleton warriors, the difference in combat power was night and day!

After over a month of brutal combat, Allen's lich army had become like wolves in a bloodthirsty frenzy, their murderous aura palpable. In contrast, Sarathos' soldiers, demoralized and disheartened, crumbled before the onslaught.

"Fallen souls, you will all be reduced to ash before the black flames..."

Seeing his forces collapsing, Sarathos could no longer hold back. He raised his ancient magic staff and began chanting a complex incantation. A massive fire wall surged from his outstretched hand, shattering the formation of the Lich Army. Skeleton warriors unlucky enough to be caught in the flames were quickly reduced to ash.

Hellfire!

With a single spell, Sarathos demonstrated his formidable strength. As a skilled mage, his role in large-scale battles was unquestionable. His presence quickly turned the tide, severely wounding Allen's skeleton army. Even Arno, the commander, came close to being incinerated. Soon, the Lich Army had lost nearly half its skeletons.

"My lord, let me take the field!" Seeing Arno repeatedly fail to reach Sarathos, Yisu's cold expression betrayed her impatience. Her bone longbow hummed with anticipation, as if sensing the enemy's blood.

"Yisu, in large-scale battles, individual strength is not the key. Today, let me show you what the true Skeleton Sea looks like!"

As more and more skeletons fell, Allen remained unfazed, waiting for Sarathos to tire himself out. When the battlefield was littered with casualties, he finally made his move. The black magic pen in his hand cut through the air, casting the Great Soul Summoning technique once more. The ground trembled, and a chill swept over the battlefield as thousands of fallen skeletons shakily rose to their feet, joining the fray. The numbers continued to swell.

What is the Skeleton Sea?

It is first and foremost a vast, oceanic quantity, one that continuously replenishes itself, a tide of death that cannot be stopped!

As the number of fallen skeletons increased, the speed and power of Allen's Great Soul Summoning grew exponentially. Within moments, the Lich Army's ranks had swelled to over two thousand!