Translator: imperfectluck Editor: Pranav
Rain would typically leave the air fresh. The sudden north wind, however, brought with it a rotten, uncomfortable stench.
The spring rain was unable to wash away the scent of death in the air. For the new residents here, this was the smell of their home, and they hoped for this entire world to be distorted into becoming part of the Undead Planes. Yet the magical forest beside the former Port Victoria remained an impenetrable fortress.
The open Dimensional Door stayed an ongoing threat. Right outside Port Victoria were several dozen colossal Soul-Summoning Towers, endlessly gathering the power of death magic to distort this area. They transformed into pillars of black light that covered the skies.
Surrounding these towering pillars of black light was a patch of distorted space. Within it, mountains, water, and a thick mass of ethereal shadows doing something could be discerned. This was where the mortal plane intersected with the Desecration Plane, and undead were entering the mortal plane here every moment.
With mountains of body parts piled up beside them, the liches were busy at work. Upon arrival, most low-level undead would be missing a limb and required “spare parts” to be installed so that they could walk normally.
When any high-level undead arrived, the first thing they would do was thank the heavens and the God of Fate’s protection for arriving safely. Overlapping dimensions would cause their dimensional laws to clash with each other, and moving between them was akin to attempting to navigate through a dangerous waterway in a thunderstorm with only a wooden board. It required not only courage and power but luck more than anything else.
The Undead Emperors weren’t idiots and were well aware that this was a critical moment. They had, in fact, spent numerous efforts and prepared endless plans just for this day, but no matter how complete one’s preparations were, nothing could resist sudden misfortune.
Judging from the current development, if this Dimensional Descent ended up creating an entirely new mini dimension, then the Dimensional Door leading to the Desecration Plane would have been completely wasted.
A severe situation was now in front of the undead. It was only by destroying this newly-born dimensional will that this area would be completely swallowed up by the Desecration Plane. If the will awakened, it would begin a major counterattack which would render this Dimensional Door useless.
Find a new location for a Dimensional Descent? First of all, how would the undead convince the Bardi Empire to make another huge sacrifice of its citizens when the undead hadn’t even achieved any combat results to show yet? The Undead Emperor Aso had paid a tremendous price and risked personally descending upon the mortal plane in order to negotiate for it last time.
And it just so happened that when dimensions were clashing against each other, dimensional teleportation would be like trying to pull a good fortune rather than a bad one. Low-level undead were cheap and plentiful, and there were countless low-level undead of all sorts in the Undead Planes. It wouldn’t be considered a pity even if only thirty percent of the low-level undead made it across, but it would be a huge pity for mid-level undead and above.
In the mortal plane, there was no such concept as mid-level undead. Undead without intelligence were considered low-level, while those with intelligence were considered high-level. However, in many Undead Planes, since the dimensional laws there were tilted in favor of the undead, progressing to a certain rank (about Bronze or so) would cause the undead to regain their experience and intelligence. Their overwhelming numbers was a large reason why the undead countries in the Undead Planes flourished far more than outsiders realized. There was even a high degree of culture.
No intelligent life form would be able to tolerate itself being transformed back into a beast ruled by its instincts. Since mid-level undead were considered as people back in their home Undead Planes, how could they be willing to become beasts and slaves again over here? “Mid-level undead” that lost their intelligence would be nothing more than slightly stronger low-level undead, and their true power would be reduced to less than one-third. This was quite an obvious waste.
High-level undead were probably the most pitiful of all if you only look at their rate of birth. That made them all the more precious. The saying that undead armies lacked high-level commanders more than anything else was quite true, and using thousands of years of accumulation to gamble on a single probability in dimensional teleportation was far too bad of a deal.
Of course, the more powerful the existence, the better the odds of survival. It was only natural that they would have a higher rate of surviving the dimensional teleportation. Yet if they were unlucky and met with something like a time fissure, then even an Undead Emperor wouldn’t have the confidence to make it through the dimensional teleportation.
No matter how much of a price they paid, the highest chance they had was only at fifty percent. Gambling thousands of years of accumulation on only a fifty percent probability was tantamount to a definite loss.
But since the battle was at a critical junction, things like downsides and probabilities were ignored. “Even if we lose everything, we have to take the strategic objective” became the rallying call of the undead.
It was quite obvious that the now flattened hills weren’t worth trading all those undead lives for, and even if they conquered it, it wouldn’t really bring them any benefits. The most important part was the strategic meaning behind it, as “being unable to conquer it” or “conquering it too slowly” would both mean an imbalance in the overall battle situation.
And right now, this half-sealed new dimension that was becoming more and more independent was the strategic objective in question. The Order Gods were likely to intervene at any moment—even though the Undead Emperors knew that using dimensional teleportation at the current time was incredibly disadvantageous, they still sent in everything they had when they discovered that the newly-born dimension was beginning to escape their control.
“Ah, I’ve arrived! I can see things here! I shall conquer... Roar!!!”
A lucky zombie just managed to walk out of a black pillar of light, but he didn’t even have the time to celebrate how he was lucky enough to make it here before he lowered his head and pitifully howled. A large amount of black mist left his body, taking with it his hundreds of years of experience and wisdom.
He was just talking really big, but the next moment he become a drooling zombie. He had become a low-level undead, only interested in crouching on the ground and chewing bones.
“...Yet another unlucky fool that was brought here without understanding the situation.”
A lich connected the zombie to itself with a death contract and ordered it to move out of the way. This type of occurrence was exceedingly common these days, and the liches had gotten used to it already.
What arrived next was a death knight squadron that was injured and tattered all over. Many of them had broken hands or broken feet, and they all supported each other as they barely managed to hobble out of the pillar. Judging by how they were able to maintain their intelligence, they were all high-level undead. They were considered elite reinforcements and major personages, so a lich immediately came over to heal them and register them for military organizing.
“The Blood Thorn Knights have all arrived. I’m the leader, Alba.”
The leader of this knight squadron was actually a death knight lord on the level of an Undead Lord. The lich cast “Death Breath” to help heal Alba as he registered the squad’s arrival, but before finishing the registration, he hesitated. He couldn’t help but ask a question.
“All arrived? Aren’t the Blood Thorn Knights that incredibly famous knight squadron in the White Demon Valley district? I’ve heard that there should be over one hundred high-level undead knights...”
The lich was unable to say anything further as a pale white arm grabbed on to the lich’s skull. The death knight Alba’s face was filled with anger.
*Snap!*
Should things be described as “everyone was happy in the end?” The lich proved the old saying of why it was suicidal to speak when you shouldn’t, and the death knight lord that lost so many of his subordinates found a target to vent his anger on. But, when Alba took a look at his brothers-in-arms behind him that were mostly dead and heavily injured, he couldn’t feel any satisfaction from having vented his anger at all.
“Without even arriving on the battlefield, our one hundred and thirty-six knights have become thirteen... that damned Aso! Damned dimensional fissures! And damn this fate!”
But even if he complained, what could he do? That wouldn’t change anything about his destiny to be cannon fodder. Since the Undead Emperors had resolved themselves to pay any sacrifice necessary, even the Undead Lords were unable to escape their unlucky fates.
While normal dimensional teleportation worked at a success rate of 40%, that was just an average obtained from countless amounts of 0%’s and 100%’s. There were many who were unlucky, like the Blood Thorn Knights who just happened to meet with a dimensional space-time fissure and become an unlucky group that had less than a 10% survival rate.
Even if he cursed the Undead Emperors that forced them into teleporting here, it wouldn’t change a thing. They were the invaders here in the mortal plane, and they could only take this path to the end.
This heavily injured death knight squadron was taken to the Soul-Summoning Towers for additional healing, and then these death knights’ natural talent in commanding soldiers would be put to use. They would have to help organize mid and low-level undead for their armies. As long as there was a sufficient number of skeletons and zombies, each death knight was basically capable of leading an entire army.
“Plants vs. Zombies” continued outside, with the battles on the frontline never ending. But if one paid close attention to the combat situation, one would notice that the undead had practically stopped sending out any more high-level undead elites to deal with the forest. Numerous structures were being built around the Soul-Summoning Towers, with large amounts of undead laborers working overtime on them. Fortress-level defense lines would soon be completed.
Since the power of numbers was unable to deal any damage to the forest’s combat strength and instead only acted as its experience for growing stronger, not a single intelligent commander would fight this meaningless battle any longer.
The campgrounds were filled with reinforcement soldiers that had just arrived from the Desecration Plane. It was obvious that the undead were accumulating their total forces for a large-scale attack. The small skirmishes with the forest were nothing more than sending out extra unneeded scouts.
Meanwhile, the wood spirits didn’t seem like they were going to come out and proactively attack. After all, as a newly-born species, they would suffer a massive decrease in power upon leaving the forest. Attacking the undead’s campgrounds meant leaving their home dimension, and they would lose their ability to remain undying. It was only natural for them to not have the ability to proactively attack.
The wood spirits were quite worried as well as they watched the undead continually gather more and more in number. But they couldn’t do anything other than continually improve their defense lines, produce more of their own, and develop new weapons for combat.
For the undead, only having strength in numbers would be insufficient. The limitations in dimensional laws prevented the Undead Emperors from descending here and retaining full power. Their direct subordinates were too strong as well, and it would be quite difficult for them to descend. Without a complete descent, the amount of usable power they’d have would be questionable. Yet while it was unfeasible for them, it was indeed fine for others.
“I never thought I would return so quickly.”
The lich Feyman strode out of a pillar into the mortal plane. As he exclaimed about how mysterious the world was in its ways, he casually took some bones from a lich beside him in order to restore his lower half that had been destroyed during the dimensional teleportation.
Although Feyman was unlucky enough to meet a dimensional fissure just like the Blood Thorn Knights before him, he had extra protections given to him specially by Undead Emperor Aso and successfully made it through.
As an Undead Lord that entered the Myth rank while in the mortal plane as well as one of the strongest undead in all of Eich, the former Second Senator from Xiluo, Feyman, indeed had the right to be proud of himself.
Although he finally ended up on the losing side in Xiluo’s internal conflict, he was still well trusted and relied on by the Undead Emperors as one of the potential vanguard leaders “familiar” with the world of Eich. He was even taken in as a disciple by Undead Emperor Aso, and he learned many undead secret techniques along with the chance to understand the basic fundamental dimensional laws of the Desecration Plane.
“Heh heh! Omar, Lionheart! There’s plenty of time to have a reckoning. Just wait for me to get to you.”
He faintly felt like he was almost at the level of breaking through the Three Heavy Doors of Myth. Now that his power level had improved significantly, he really wanted to take revenge. Not to mention that Aso had given him full power of command over the frontlines, so Feyman was quite high up in authority.
As long as he managed to conquer this small newly-born dimension, he could even be considered to be the overall commander of the entire undead invasion. He was looking forward to a repeat performance of the Yongye Calamity; he felt like he could be even cooler than Yongye back in the day. Thinking of this, Feyman laughed out loud; full of pride, he felt as if he was on top of the world. He even thought it was fortunate that he lost Xiluo’s internal conflict back in the day.
“Don’t be happy too early. Dimensional wills aren’t easy to take care of. Let’s hurry up and organize our armies; I have an ominous premonition.”
If Feyman was delighted simply for having received a key to help him unlock the path to becoming even more powerful, the former First Senator, the far ancient bone dragon Gricasio had benefited even more than he did. Undead Emperor Aso’s evaluation of Gricasio was: “give Gricasio two hundred more years, and he’ll become an Undead Emperor just like us.”
Indeed, Gricasio was able to learn from an Undead Emperor bone dragon, and his plentiful accumulated experience placed him at the brink of becoming a new Undead Emperor. It was only a matter of time before he broke through the third and final Heavy Door of Myth. It was apparent that he would eventually become a new Undead Emperor.
Although Gricasio was telling Feyman to be cautious, it was only because of his typical habit of keeping a low profile. As the strongest in all of Xiluo, he had always been the strongest undead creature in Eich’s mortal plane. Now that his power level had increased significantly as well, would he really be afraid of anyone?
“What a pity as ‘that person’ isn’t here anymore. Otherwise, I could show him my newly-obtained power.”
Now that the far ancient bone dragon was finally stepping into the highest power levels, he even faintly felt the ambition to challenge that person who had always suppressed him.
“Ohhh!!!”
“We’ll definitely win! The living shall sleep eternally, while an eternal night shall arrive!”
“Lord Gricasio has finally arrived. We can charge forth again!”
Various cheers attracted the two Undead Lords’ attention. It happened to be that above one of the undead campgrounds, there was a tremendous bone dragon circling around. Most normal bone dragons wouldn’t even be as large as one of this bone dragon’s claws, and its wings of death covered the entire sky. The pressure that came from such a top-level undead was naturally viewed by all the high-level undead as their own reinforcements, which caused all the cheering.
The undead armies here had constantly been suppressed, and one important reason was that there wasn’t a top-level undead that could take overall command here. Now that they saw a far ancient bone dragon arrive who was at minimum a Myth rank, of course they would be excited. There were some who possessed the information that even shouted out this veteran bone dragon’s name of who they were expecting.
However, not far away, the real Gricasio had an expression filled with surprise. He never heard of the Undead Emperors intending to send any other top-level bone dragon here. And why did this bone dragon’s figure seem so familiar, as if he had met them somewhere before not long ago?
“...Gria!!”
Feyman was the one who shouted out in surprise. Gria, who loved her own beautiful appearance, hated to show off her bone dragon form. But in that final battle to decide Xiluo’s royal authority, Gria, who suddenly descended in her bone dragon form, almost managed to destroy his entire darkness conference by herself. With her familiar mana waves in front of him, how could he not recognize her?
Those with grudges would be easily overtaken by their feelings, and Feyman intended to rush out and take revenge right away. However, Gricasio stopped him.
“Wait a moment, there’s someone on her back.”
“Who cares if someone’s on her back? With you and me fighting together, who would we possibly be afraid of?”
“...You should know Gria’s personality. Would she let just anyone ride on her back? The only person possible would be ‘that person.’”
“Could it be...”
The lich Feyman was scared to the point of jumping in fright and hurriedly cast a distance-viewing magic. What he saw was a certain lich sitting on Gria’s back.
This lich was casually resting on a lounge chair, enjoying the sunshine while wearing magical crystal sunglasses. He was even proudly waving down to the undead below, as if he was the real leader observing his own subordinates.
Suddenly, he seemed to detect Feyman’s vision spell spying on him, and he smiled directly at the invisible eye. He started saying something, and as he pointed his finger, Feyman’s vision spell was canceled out.
“Long time no see. You’ve been taking care of my children, so this time, allow me to personally play together with you. Let’s have a good game.”
Gricasio who was still far away in the distance read those soul words out loud. The unique waves of mana were indisputable evidence of that person’s identity, but Gricasio and Feyman didn’t need evidence to begin with.
Although the waves of mana he produced weren’t particularly fierce, only that soulfire that seemed calm on the surface but was actually maniacal inside along with the strange actions that nobody ever understood made Gricasio confident that “that person” had finally returned. The existence that even all the Undead Emperors feared was actually still alive in the mortal plane.
With so many years having passed by, he had only faked his death? What has he been secretly plotting all this time? Why did he appear now, at such a critical moment?”
“Yongye...”
“Impossible, impossible!”
Gricasio was still able to maintain his composure, but Feyman collapsed. Since Feyman had once been one of Emperor Yongye’s strategists, of course he knew how scary Yongye was. Before, he had only dared to set up his own conference and tried to usurp royal authority in Xiluo because he was one hundred percent certain that Yongye would never return.
Meanwhile, Gria and Yongye seemed to have received enough cheering and applause to satisfy them. Gria changed direction and began flying towards that distant patch of green forest.
Gria slowly glided past the clouds. When she flew over the two Undead Lords’ heads, she even stopped to fly in a few circles here.
Gricasio and Feyman could clearly see on the bone dragon’s back that “that person” was joyously waving at them and even sending them flying kisses. That passion made it seem as if they were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in such a long while.
“Hey!”
Even his passionate greetings were sent down.
“...Hey!”
Feyman was so scared that he hurriedly waved back at that familiar soulfire. This wasn’t the effect of any magical spell. It was merely his instinctive reaction from having been suppressed by Yongye’s pressure for so long over the years.
That lich in the sky nodded in satisfaction at having received a response and patted the bone dragon on the back. Only then did Gria slowly continue flying towards the forest.
The undead in the campgrounds were under the impression that their reinforcements were going to attack the enemy right after arriving, so another explosive round of cheers erupted for the bone dragon’s expedition.
“Lord Gricasio, may you live forever!”
“May Emperor Aso live forever!”
The two new undead commanders stayed behind in a stupefied daze. Gricasio, who was being praised by the undead, had an expression filled with hesitation, as his newly-born ambitions to rise above had already vanished into bubbles. He had been scared by that person’s arrival.
Gricasio and Feyman could only watch as their enemy left in the distance, completely forgetting their responsibilities as the undead commanders.
Neither of them was able to work up the courage to stop her as Gria vanished from their sight. After all, that would mean directly facing off against “that person,” an existence who suppressed them for hundreds of years even after his supposed death.
“Sigh. We should first go out there to reorganize the armies. Otherwise, those young ones might impulsively rush out after them.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s not make them wait. Let’s go right now. How ridiculous! They actually couldn’t even recognize the highest-ranked leaders of their own army!”
Alright, then. When a certain lich reappeared in front of them, he was able to make these two Undead Lords that even True Gods would have headaches about into nothing more than scared dogs with their tails tucked in. After all, they had been living in that person’s shadow for far too long.

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