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overlord: Welcome the Birth of the King_chapter_0401_part_01
Chapter 561
chapter 401 part 1
Chapter 398: The Skirmish Three Hundred Years Ago. A Rebellion?
Inside the abyssal lair.
Ores imbued with magic power and a great number of magical items were piled into a small hill, casually placed in a corner of the cave.
A faint, multicolored magical glow emanated from this pile of treasure, adding a touch of ethereal light to the ink-black, deep cave.
Under the illumination of the treasure pile, a black shadow was cast upon the cave's ceiling, squirming almost imperceptibly like a living thing!
*Hooo... shuuu—*
The long, drawn-out sound of breathing echoed.
The shadow and the breathing came from a colossal figure coiled in the center of the cave, blended into the darkness, even though a shadow had already been cast.
This massive figure seemed nonexistent, completely merged with the darkness in the cave. Any light that entered its area was instantly devoured and vanished, as if sucked into a black hole!
Suddenly!
The figure slumbering in the darkness opened its eyes slightly, revealing slitted, amber vertical pupils that gazed toward the pile of treasure.
A fleeting look of satisfaction and laziness flashed through its eyes.
The immense, ink-black figure shifted in the darkness, seemingly adjusting into a more comfortable reclining position.
This treasure was the fruit of its labors over more than 300 years.
Most of it had been contributed by a clandestine organization called the Body of the Abyss.
The dragon race possessed a natural love and desire for collecting treasure and magical items. Even a restrained personality like its own had unconsciously amassed a considerable collection.
This cave was its current base, painstakingly excavated by itself. Although it had taken a great deal of effort, it was extremely secure!
This was because the entire underground cave had no magical enhancements whatsoever. Furthermore, the vein of obsidian ore overhead served to mask magic power and life fluctuations, forming a second natural barrier!
Discover this underground cave?
Even stumbling upon it by accident was an impossibility, for this underground cave had no entrance or exit.
The only way to arrive here was through means of teleportation.
As a stronghold!
This place was naturally subpar. To call it "crude" would not be an exaggeration in the slightest. If any other True Dragon Lord were to come here, they would likely laugh in scorn.
"Hmph."
The mysterious True Dragon Lord exhaled a stream of black air from its nostrils, squinting as it admired the small, glowing mountain of magic in the distance.
This was one of its few remaining pleasures.
Scorn?
It couldn't care less about such useless face-saving.
As the saying goes, "a fall into a pit, a gain in your wit." If a stronghold was built too lavishly or conspicuously, it would only attract unnecessary trouble.
As the most powerful race in the entire world!
It should not have to care about the attention of any inferior races. They were just creatures groveling at its feet, unworthy of even licking its claws.
Fear, trouble, attention!
Those are things for those inferior races to worry about.
But—!
This world had already been tainted by filth.
The moment the mysterious True Dragon Lord thought of this, its narrowed eyes changed, and a vicious, profound malice flickered within its amber vertical pupils.
It could almost feel an excruciating pain wracking its entire body—the cold sensation of "death"!
This was not its true stronghold, of course!
Even if its rage was difficult to suppress and its pride refused to admit it, it had to face reality: it had been forced to hide here.
Its true stronghold had already been destroyed!
And the one responsible for all of it was the evil Preya.
That was a sudden skirmish three hundred years ago, when the evil Preya had abruptly appeared near its stronghold.
It had the audacity to declare it wanted to turn it into a pet or a mount!
A creature courting death!
That battle had left it grievously wounded, even on the verge of death, but—
It had won!
It had torn the other party to shreds, turning them into dregs and nutrients in its stomach.
The mysterious True Dragon Lord’s lips curled slightly, revealing a flash of snow-white, sharp teeth as it unconsciously let out a vicious, gratified chuckle.
Of course, its gains had also been immense.
The mysterious True Dragon Lord knew that its victory had a considerable element of luck. The evil Preya must have mistaken it for an ordinary Dragon Lord and was ignorant of information regarding True Dragon Lords.
This led to a series of misjudgments that tipped the final scales!
More than 300 years had passed.
Its near-fatal injuries had fully recovered. It had even absorbed that experience, silently planning countermeasures and making preparations.
That fellow, Quya Yilimu Rosmoir (Corrupted Coffin Dragon Lord), had provided it with a rather good idea!
The image of that freak who had abandoned the great status of the dragon race to turn itself into an undead flashed through the mysterious Dragon Lord's mind, and complex thoughts surfaced.
It was all the fault of the evil Preya!
They were the filth of the world, and the enemies of all Dragon Lords.
The amber vertical pupils closed.
Within the deep, dark cave, only the faint, long-drawn-out sound of breathing could be heard from time to time. An unknown amount of time passed.
"They're slacking." The mysterious True Dragon Lord opened its eyes again, a trace of dissatisfaction flashing within them.
If it remembered correctly.
It should have been time for the inner circle members of the Body of the Abyss to contribute their research technology, yet they still had not appeared.
This was a challenge to its benevolence!
For a group of bug-like undead to offer their technology and knowledge to a great True Dragon Lord was an honor for them.
Exploitation?
Was that not a matter of course?
The fact that it hadn't killed these bugs was something they should be eternally grateful for.
Ever since the skirmish three hundred years ago, the mysterious Dragon Lord had become extremely cautious. The Body of the Abyss, an undead organization that had little contact with the outside world and possessed some value, was naturally brought under its command.
*Swish!*
A flash of red light suddenly cut through the deep, dark cave. In this environment, the red glow was exceptionally piercing.
In that instant.
The mysterious Dragon Lord's gaze snapped to where the red light had appeared, its amber pupils radiating a grim chill.
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on Abyss Benjerry has been removed."
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on White Saintess Granz has been removed."
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on Red-Eyed Duke Krunuya has been removed."
"Alert!"
"..."
An emotionless, mechanical voice, like two stones grinding together, echoed through the dark cave along with the flashing red light.
The voice was not loud.
But to the ears of the mysterious Dragon Lord, it was exceptionally grating.
Chapter 398: The Skirmish Three Hundred Years Ago. A Rebellion?
Inside the abyssal lair.
Ores imbued with magic power and a great number of magical items were piled into a small hill, casually placed in a corner of the cave.
A faint, multicolored magical glow emanated from this pile of treasure, adding a touch of ethereal light to the ink-black, deep cave.
Under the illumination of the treasure pile, a black shadow was cast upon the cave's ceiling, squirming almost imperceptibly like a living thing!
*Hooo... shuuu—*
The long, drawn-out sound of breathing echoed.
The shadow and the breathing came from a colossal figure coiled in the center of the cave, blended into the darkness, even though a shadow had already been cast.
This massive figure seemed nonexistent, completely merged with the darkness in the cave. Any light that entered its area was instantly devoured and vanished, as if sucked into a black hole!
Suddenly!
The figure slumbering in the darkness opened its eyes slightly, revealing slitted, amber vertical pupils that gazed toward the pile of treasure.
A fleeting look of satisfaction and laziness flashed through its eyes.
The immense, ink-black figure shifted in the darkness, seemingly adjusting into a more comfortable reclining position.
This treasure was the fruit of its labors over more than 300 years.
Most of it had been contributed by a clandestine organization called the Body of the Abyss.
The dragon race possessed a natural love and desire for collecting treasure and magical items. Even a restrained personality like its own had unconsciously amassed a considerable collection.
This cave was its current base, painstakingly excavated by itself. Although it had taken a great deal of effort, it was extremely secure!
This was because the entire underground cave had no magical enhancements whatsoever. Furthermore, the vein of obsidian ore overhead served to mask magic power and life fluctuations, forming a second natural barrier!
Discover this underground cave?
Even stumbling upon it by accident was an impossibility, for this underground cave had no entrance or exit.
The only way to arrive here was through means of teleportation.
As a stronghold!
This place was naturally subpar. To call it "crude" would not be an exaggeration in the slightest. If any other True Dragon Lord were to come here, they would likely laugh in scorn.
"Hmph."
The mysterious True Dragon Lord exhaled a stream of black air from its nostrils, squinting as it admired the small, glowing mountain of magic in the distance.
This was one of its few remaining pleasures.
Scorn?
It couldn't care less about such useless face-saving.
As the saying goes, "a fall into a pit, a gain in your wit." If a stronghold was built too lavishly or conspicuously, it would only attract unnecessary trouble.
As the most powerful race in the entire world!
It should not have to care about the attention of any inferior races. They were just creatures groveling at its feet, unworthy of even licking its claws.
Fear, trouble, attention!
Those are things for those inferior races to worry about.
But—!
This world had already been tainted by filth.
The moment the mysterious True Dragon Lord thought of this, its narrowed eyes changed, and a vicious, profound malice flickered within its amber vertical pupils.
It could almost feel an excruciating pain wracking its entire body—the cold sensation of "death"!
This was not its true stronghold, of course!
Even if its rage was difficult to suppress and its pride refused to admit it, it had to face reality: it had been forced to hide here.
Its true stronghold had already been destroyed!
And the one responsible for all of it was the evil Preya.
That was a sudden skirmish three hundred years ago, when the evil Preya had abruptly appeared near its stronghold.
It had the audacity to declare it wanted to turn it into a pet or a mount!
A creature courting death!
That battle had left it grievously wounded, even on the verge of death, but—
It had won!
It had torn the other party to shreds, turning them into dregs and nutrients in its stomach.
The mysterious True Dragon Lord’s lips curled slightly, revealing a flash of snow-white, sharp teeth as it unconsciously let out a vicious, gratified chuckle.
Of course, its gains had also been immense.
The mysterious True Dragon Lord knew that its victory had a considerable element of luck. The evil Preya must have mistaken it for an ordinary Dragon Lord and was ignorant of information regarding True Dragon Lords.
This led to a series of misjudgments that tipped the final scales!
More than 300 years had passed.
Its near-fatal injuries had fully recovered. It had even absorbed that experience, silently planning countermeasures and making preparations.
That fellow, Quya Yilimu Rosmoir (Corrupted Coffin Dragon Lord), had provided it with a rather good idea!
The image of that freak who had abandoned the great status of the dragon race to turn itself into an undead flashed through the mysterious Dragon Lord's mind, and complex thoughts surfaced.
It was all the fault of the evil Preya!
They were the filth of the world, and the enemies of all Dragon Lords.
The amber vertical pupils closed.
Within the deep, dark cave, only the faint, long-drawn-out sound of breathing could be heard from time to time. An unknown amount of time passed.
"They're slacking." The mysterious True Dragon Lord opened its eyes again, a trace of dissatisfaction flashing within them.
If it remembered correctly.
It should have been time for the inner circle members of the Body of the Abyss to contribute their research technology, yet they still had not appeared.
This was a challenge to its benevolence!
For a group of bug-like undead to offer their technology and knowledge to a great True Dragon Lord was an honor for them.
Exploitation?
Was that not a matter of course?
The fact that it hadn't killed these bugs was something they should be eternally grateful for.
Ever since the skirmish three hundred years ago, the mysterious Dragon Lord had become extremely cautious. The Body of the Abyss, an undead organization that had little contact with the outside world and possessed some value, was naturally brought under its command.
*Swish!*
A flash of red light suddenly cut through the deep, dark cave. In this environment, the red glow was exceptionally piercing.
In that instant.
The mysterious Dragon Lord's gaze snapped to where the red light had appeared, its amber pupils radiating a grim chill.
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on Abyss Benjerry has been removed."
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on White Saintess Granz has been removed."
"Alert!"
"The mark placed on Red-Eyed Duke Krunuya has been removed."
"Alert!"
"..."
An emotionless, mechanical voice, like two stones grinding together, echoed through the dark cave along with the flashing red light.
The voice was not loud.
But to the ears of the mysterious Dragon Lord, it was exceptionally grating.
