Chapter 1503
The Lord of Nightmares had finally come to a realization. Among all the god-demons, he was undoubtedly the unluckiest. If he wanted to survive and live with some semblance of freedom, then dignity, majesty, and all that nonsense would have to be set aside for now.
So many years had passed, clinging to god-demon pride, yet living a life worse than a worm. One by one, the god-demons fell; those who reincarnated, even if they died again, at least lived days worthy of their kind. But what about the Lord of Nightmares? Just thinking about it made him feel death might be better than this...
Unfortunately, because he was a god-demon, he was so powerful that he couldn't even kill himself. Suicide was impossible—he could only endure this endless, soul-crushing existence...
It was as if the Lord of Nightmares had been enlightened. Here he was, constantly flattering, his posture so humble it was almost unbelievable.
In truth, Leon really treated the Lord of Nightmares' words as nothing but hot air—one ear in, the other out, not taking him seriously at all.
After all, this was a god-demon. Anything a creature like that said couldn't be trusted. Even a contract might not be enough to restrain him.
Leon was busy questioning Saimeron about a few things.
"Saimeron, do you know what to do in this situation? The Lord of Nightmares' god-demon soul and the Blood Lich's soul have become entangled and fused. If we can't get rid of the Lord of Nightmares, then we can't get rid of the Blood Lich either.
If the Blood Lich isn't dealt with, the troubles will never end. That old corpse could easily spend ten thousand years plotting revenge..."
Leon was getting a headache. According to Saimeron, the Death Tome had already begun gestating in the Elder Age, but it didn’t fully form back then. Later, the Elder War spilled over into the Undead Plane, and none of the creatures there dared to oppose the god-demons—not a single one.
The current Undead King, if placed in the Elder Age, would have been nothing but top-tier cannon fodder. The gestation of the Death Tome was affected, and several attempts were made to seize it by force. Strangely, before the Death Tome could fully mature, it was knocked out of the Undead Plane, losing its chance to be completed. All its magic device components scattered outside.
During all this, Saimeron had learned quite a lot—most of it came naturally during the gestation process.
Especially when it came to god-demons, Saimeron knew a great deal. To solve the Lord of Nightmares problem, ordinary power wouldn’t be enough—it had to involve some god-demon power.
If there were a god-demon’s power that could solve the current situation, that would be ideal. Even though most god-demons were dead, they’d left plenty behind.
God-demon soul fragments, Elder God Blood, remnants of their bodies...
As long as you knew which god-demon’s power could solve the issue, you could track down their remnants and always find a way to draw out enough power to deal with the Lord of Nightmares.
Saimeron started explaining the powers of each god-demon, one by one.
"The Lord Wisdom, called the source of all wisdom..."
"No need for that one. Next. Lord Wisdom’s power definitely won’t solve our current problem..."
Saimeron hadn’t even finished when Leon cut him off—wasn’t this obvious? The source of Lord Wisdom’s power, the origin of wisdom, even Constantine’s Skull had already been fused. If that could solve the problem, Saimeron wouldn’t need to be explaining it here...
Saimeron didn’t mind and continued introducing the unique abilities of other god-demons, or powers that might solve the Lord of Nightmares problem.
Leon knew a few of these things too, but nowhere near as much as Saimeron. From the Elder Age to the Nesser Dynasty, then to the Third Dynasty, and now this era—almost nothing remains of the detailed god-demon records from the Elder Age.
Saimeron kept talking, and Leon kept shaking his head.
An hour slipped by just like that.
"The Death Lord was also a god-demon with soul power. His Reaper's Blade was said to have appeared as soon as he spoke, and it could sever souls. A creature whose soul was cut by it wouldn’t necessarily die, but the severed part would be lost forever. During the Elder War, the Death Lord cut off one of Lord Wisdom’s hands, and the soul of that hand was lost—rendering it completely useless..."
At this, Leon’s eyes suddenly lit up—he thought of the Skeleton King.
After the Death Lord died, his weapon shattered and fell into the Undead Plane, transforming into the Reaper's Scythe wielded by the Skeleton Kings. That’s the easiest to find—Leon already had a Reaper's Scythe himself.
If the Reaper's Scythe could cut apart the fused souls of the Lord of Nightmares and the Blood Lich, things would be much simpler.
Leon took out his own Reaper's Scythe, and Saimeron suddenly cried out in surprise.
"Reaper's Blade, Merlin, has the Death Lord returned?"
When Saimeron uttered the name of the Reaper's Blade, the blood-red death scythe in Lin Yun's hand suddenly trembled. The tiny crimson skull at the junction of the blade and handle lit up in its eye sockets, and a piercing, grating laughter burst from its mouth.
Lin Yun could barely keep hold of the death scythe; only after channeling the Death Tome and transforming into the Skeleton King did the blood-red scythe finally quiet down.
Saimeron's tone was strange as he watched Lin Yun transform into a skeleton, draped in a cloak and gripping the blood-red death scythe—like witnessing a living god-demon.
"Merlin, the Death Lord looked exactly like you do now—cloaked and wielding a blood-red Reaper's Blade, which is now the death scythes held by those Skeleton Kings. But wasn't the Reaper's Blade shattered and destroyed...?
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The Reaper's Blade in your hand is indeed the Reaper's Blade, but it's far weaker than the one the Death Lord wielded..."
Lin Yun recalled that back in the Nightmare Realm, when he severed Fatty's tail, the tail remained, but a phantom was cut off and devoured by the blood-red death scythe. That must be the power of the Reaper's Blade.
He'd been surprised at the time, thinking the death scythe had mutated after changing color...
Looking back, it was probably a coincidence—a vampire progenitor sacrificed, causing the death scythe to revert to its ancestral power, gaining the ability of the Reaper's Blade. Maybe even a fragment of the Death Lord's god-demon soul was awakening in this blood-red scythe...
The weapon best at severing souls, revived because of a vampire progenitor who didn't even have a soul—honestly, that's pretty bizarre. Poor vampire progenitor...
To the Lord of Nightmares, the vampire progenitor was just a living, humanoid key. To the Death Lord, killing him became the crucial sacrifice for resurrection...
Thirteen vampire progenitors—surviving for so many years, only to be wiped out in the last year or two. That's no small feat...
As Lin Yun transformed into Skeleton King, clutching the blood-red death scythe and approaching the Lord of Nightmares, who was trapped under the natural demi-plane projection, the Lord's already miserable face grew even more miserable...
I knew it—the moment I met this Merlin, it had to be my unluckiest day. Of course it was...
I should've made a deal with this guy from the start. Now look—can't even make a deal anymore. He's got the Reaper's Blade, can turn into the Death Lord, and can wield the Blade's power...
The Lord of Nightmares never imagined Lin Yun would have the Reaper's Blade. That weapon once slew several god-demons—those struck had their bodies shattered, their god-demon souls sliced into fragments, never to be revived or reincarnated...
Those shattered god-demon soul fragments, even if reincarnated, can never awaken again. The new body is just a fresh individual, maybe with some odd powers, but no longer a god-demon.
Never able to awaken, like being trapped in endless sleep—never to wake again. For a god-demon, that's true death...
Now the Lord of Nightmares was both miserable and terrified, feeling like a lifetime of bad luck wasn't enough—he'd have to be unlucky for several lifetimes...
"Merlin, let's talk this out. We can negotiate, really—we can make a deal that'll satisfy you, I promise..."
The Lord of Nightmares stopped mid-sentence, looking at Lin Yun's side as if he'd seen a ghost.
The Lord of Nightmares froze for a few seconds, then, seeing Lin Yun about to raise the blood-red death scythe, shouted like he'd just spotted a long-lost relative.
"Cabalai, Cabalai—damn it, it's you! Lord Cabalai, save me! If not for your orders back then, I wouldn't be in this mess. That cursed Lord of Misfortune must've hexed me with his god-demon soul when he died...
Cabalai, save me! I really want to make a deal, I'm telling the truth..."
The Lord of Nightmares called out with genuine misery, nearly in tears. Even Lin Yun felt a pang of sympathy. When you think about it, the Lord of Nightmares is probably the unluckiest of all god-demons. The worst that happened to the others was dying cleanly once. This guy? Worse than death—should've just died properly from the start...
Lin Yun glanced in the direction the Lord of Nightmares was staring—Anderson had quietly tried to hide behind him, but Lin Yun grabbed and tossed him forward.
Sure enough, the Lord of Nightmares' gaze locked onto Anderson, staring as if he'd found family...
"Lord Cabalai, you've been caught by this wicked, unbelievable human too? Hurry, save me..."
Anderson's three faces twisted with disgust, like he'd just stepped in dog crap on his way out the door.
"Damn it, that bastard—trying to stir up infighting even on his deathbed. Scum like that deserves to die. Merlin, hurry up and chop him down! Once he's dead, the Blood Lich will die too..."
Lin Yun suddenly reverted to human form, stowing away the death scythe and giving Anderson a half-smile, half-smirk.