The Demon Dragon Gecko strutted and showed off in front of Thorne and the Ghostspine Tree for a full half-hour before finally settling down. Only after receiving Thorne's praise did it swagger off, fully satisfied, to lord it over its five little lackeys.
Those five beasts had been hanging around the Demon Dragon Gecko all day; they were no longer as timid as before and had grown bolder, often teaming up with their boss to cause mischief.
Thorne didn't bother with any of that. He only needed to provide enough resources; he had no energy to micromanage every little thing. On the surface, outside forces were probably already sneaking into the desert to hunt for gems. Down in the underground world, meanwhile, Maki's conquest had hit a snag.
Underground world—a blood-soaked battlefield.
Maki stared grimly at the enemies across from him, his face ashen. This was absolutely the toughest problem he had encountered since following Thorne.
After Thorne ordered him to conquer the thousand-li stretch along the River of Forgetfulness as quickly as possible, Maki had been fighting different enemies day and night without pause.
As Thorne had foreseen, the Earth Spirit army was practically invincible in this region. Yet after he had completely cleared out every other race in the River of Forgetfulness basin, he ran into a truly troublesome opponent.
A race Maki had never even heard of in all his years living underground—one he was certain no Earth Spirit had ever seen.
There were only about a dozen of them. Their bodies were withered like dry firewood, and only their eyes still glowed with an eerie blue light.
They appeared suddenly, right after Maki had wiped out the last race that had resisted to the death. They began chanting spells, and from the corpses littering the ground, soul after soul rose up.
Under their control, these souls charged at Maki and his troops. Though bodiless, they could launch attacks as solid as any physical blow, while the Earth Spirit warriors had no way to strike back at them.
"What race are you? Why do you block our path?"
Maki roared the question, trying to glean some information while urgently calling out to Thorne in his mind.
These souls couldn't yet inflict serious wounds on the Earth Spirits, but the Earth Spirits were equally helpless against them.
"You have crossed the line. You must die."
The leader on the other side spoke in a flat, indifferent tone, as if stating the obvious.
Maki narrowed his single eye. Although the enemy could control souls, the Earth Spirits had an innate racial skill: they could gather all their blood and soul into their single eye and fire a beam of divine light capable of harming even souls. The price, of course, was the caster's complete annihilation.
"At worst, we fight to the death. The territory I won for Lord Lake God will never be surrendered."
Maki steeled his heart, ready to lead his men in a desperate last stand.
Then Thorne's voice rang in his mind.
"Don't be reckless. Let me take a look."
To Maki, Thorne's voice was like heavenly music. He choked out an emotional "Yes, my lord."
Under the astonished gazes of the dozen figures opposite, the gently flowing River of Forgetfulness suddenly churned. A human figure made entirely of river water emerged from it.
It was Thorne. He strolled casually up to the group, inwardly quite shocked himself.
Withered bodies, eyes glowing blue, and the ability to manipulate the souls of the dead—this was none other than the lich, a species that, according to the memories of the dark sorcerer he had once devoured, had vanished from the continent a thousand years ago.
Liches were recorded in ancient texts as extremely evil and powerful beings. Through forbidden magic, they rendered their souls nearly immortal, which left their physical bodies extremely frail.
The bodies before him were merely vessels for their souls; even if destroyed, they could simply find new ones.
"So they're liches. First time I've ever seen one."
Hearing the curiosity in Thorne's voice—and not a trace of fear—the dozen liches were rather taken aback.
Because of their formidable souls and near-endless lifespans, liches were obsessed with research, especially magic. Their spells were terrifyingly strong. Even in this underground world devoid of elemental energy, after a thousand years of study they had developed techniques powerful enough to dominate the realm.
They had assumed that anyone who recognized them would be terrified.
"Since you know what we are, take your own life. It would save us the trouble of doing it. Fighting these little things is truly boring."
Liches could not reproduce, so these individuals had likely been sealed in the underground world over a thousand years ago and were still alive today. Compared to them, the Earth Spirits really were "little things."
The corners of Thorne's water-formed mouth curled into a wicked, charming smile.
He glanced at the souls the liches controlled and waved a hand. A sheet of river water splashed over them.
The souls instantly screamed as though doused with acid, holes riddling their forms. In moments, the hundreds of souls dissolved into the air.
Joke's on them—playing with souls in front of the River of Forgetfulness? In its previous world, this river had belonged to the underworld and buried countless souls. Though it wasn't that extreme in this life yet, these freshly formed souls were child's play.
"You—what kind of technique is that?!"
For the first time, ripples of emotion appeared on the liches' perpetually expressionless faces. Their dried skin twisted, making them look even more ghastly.
"I've heard liches are immortal and unkillable. I wonder if that's true?"
Instead of answering, Thorne asked with playful interest.
"Hmph. We don't know how you dispersed those souls, but the youngest among us has lived nearly a thousand years. We may not be unkillable, but we don't die easily."
"Oh? In the outside world, that might be true. But down here… it probably isn't that hard."
As he spoke, a rope suddenly shot out from the River of Forgetfulness behind him and bound one of the liches tight.
The Water Bind formed from the River of Forgetfulness didn't just restrain the body—it locked the soul inside as well.
These liches might be masters of magic, but this world had no elemental energy to work with, and Thorne's Water Bind was nearly at the level of a law. It appeared instantly—how could they dodge?
The bound lich felt its soul wrapped tightly by the rope, unable even to leave its vessel.
"You—who in the world are you? How can you do this?!"
Panic flashed through the lich leader as he saw his subordinate's state.
"I'm nobody important." Thorne smiled faintly. "Also… I'm not from this world."
His words struck like thunder, leaving every lich speechless with shock.