Building the Strongest Undead Empire from Scratch

Chapter 325: The enemy of our enemy is our friend

On the Valoria continent, deep within a dank, shadowy cave, a creature stood motionless, its presence radiating an aura of evil.

It stood upright, its four limbs ending in razor-sharp claws. Its eyes glowed with an eerie blue light, piercing the oppressive darkness.

The air was thick with the stench of decay, the overwhelming odor of rotting flesh.

"Torin, you must have felt it too. You want to pledge your allegiance to the new emperor? How foolish. Why not enjoy your reign here? But I know you. You'll go."

Zarvox chuckled, its voice dripping with mockery.

It was thriving here, in the heart of the Valoria continent, the demon's domain, a place even angels avoided.

Why would it submit to a fledgling emperor?

Here, it was king. There, it would be just another subordinate, constantly facing danger.

It wasn't even a choice.

As it settled back down, ready to resume its slumber, one of its subordinates burst into the cave.

"My lord, we've received word that Croakzoth is dead."

"So? It was just a King level demon. Why bother me with such trivial matters?" Zarvox snapped, its voice laced with annoyance.

"It hadn't fully recovered its strength. Judging by the traces of battle, it was likely slain by undead. And its soul... is gone."

"What?!"

Zarvox shot up, its eyes widening in alarm.

Undead? On the Valoria continent? Besides itself, there were no other undead here.

Unless...

"It's the new emperor!"

"Take me to Croakzoth's remains. Now!"

A cruel smile spread across Zarvox's face. If the new emperor was on the Valoria continent, it wouldn't hesitate to eliminate the threat.

Why shouldn't it claim the throne for itself?

Bloodline above all else? Nonsense! Strength was the only true measure of power.

...

On the Mossvale continent, a lone figure rode across the vast grasslands, enjoying the tranquility of the open plains.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. His face contorted in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Your Majesty... you've returned!"

He spurred his horse into a gallop, a shrill whistle echoing across the plains.

In the distance, horses, their saddles adorned with saddlebags, each containing a cowboy hat, converged on his location.

The hats rose from their bags, hovering above the horses' backs. Flames erupted, and skeletal figures, their bony fingers gripping the reins, materialized, their empty sockets fixed on their leader.

As the horses galloped, the flames consumed them, transforming them into skeletal steeds.

Over a thousand Death Knights gathered around the man, their skeletal mounts pawing the ground impatiently.

"The new emperor has emerged. What say you?" he asked, his voice booming across the assembled ranks.

"Hail the new emperor!" the Death Knights roared in unison.

"Then we ride! We leave the Mossvale continent and seek our new emperor!"

He turned his gaze towards a towering, treacherous mountain peak in the distance. He dug his heels into his mount's flanks and charged forward, the Death Knights following close behind.

Atop the mountain, nestled amidst the clouds, stood a magnificent palace, home to the Dragon race. To leave the Mossvale continent, he needed their assistance.

But first, he needed to ascertain the location of this new Empire.

And, considering their past interactions, whether they would even agree to help. Aiding outsiders in intercontinental travel was a sensitive topic among the dragons.

Meanwhile, the Dragon Chieftain had also sensed the birth of the undead emperor.

Its dwelling, located at the heart of the Mossvale continent, was surprisingly humble. A dilapidated palace, weathered by time and neglect, stood alone, surrounded by an eerie silence. Even the wild beasts and sub-dragons avoided this place.

They knew that this seemingly insignificant palace was where the dragon kings convened every century to discuss matters of great importance.

However, the emergence of a new Empire wasn't enough to warrant their immediate attention. What did it have to do with them?

But within the crumbling palace walls, representatives of the various dragon kings had gathered. This unprecedented meeting had been called because they had received word that this wasn't just any Empire. It was a newly established Undead Empire.

Twelve figures, their forms humanoid but their auras distinct and powerful, sat around a massive circular table.

Some radiated intense heat, while others emanated a chilling cold. Each one represented a different branch of the Dragon race.

They sat in silence, awaiting the words of the imposing figure at the head of the table.

"The undead have emerged. Once again, they have become a force that cannot be ignored. They will be the enemies of most races. And the enemy of our enemy is our friend. The dragon kings have consulted with the Dragon God and received his blessing to act."

The figure's eyes glowed with a golden light, its divine power radiating outwards.

The representatives gasped, their eyes widening in surprise. Their kings hadn't informed them of this development.

"When do we strike?" a man clad in crimson robes roared, his voice thick with barely contained rage.

"Those damned angels murdered the Azure Dragon and stole our sacred artifact! This blood debt must be repaid!" another man, his hair as blue as ice, snarled, his voice laced with venom.

The Azure Dragon clan, lacking a Dragon King, is currently led by this man. The initial war was precisely because the angels launched a surprise attack on the Azure Dragon clan, leading to their current weakened state.

A millennium ago, the Azure Dragons, with the Dragon God himself presiding, were the most powerful dragon clan. Now, they have become the weakest. How could this not fuel his anger?

"We have endured humiliation for far too long. But patience, my friend. We must await the Dragon God's command," the imposing figure at the head of the table said, his voice deep and calming.

"The Undead Empire is located on the Eldoria continent, the land that was once almost called the Undead Continent. Perhaps this is fate. The Death Knight Garethor seems to have a connection to one of your clan members. If he seeks your aid, send him to Eldoria."

He addressed a woman seated third from his left. She nodded, understanding his instructions.

"The undead, in their current state, might not pose a significant threat to them, but they will distract our enemies, buying us time."

"Indeed. What news from the Demon continent?" he asked, turning to another representative.

"Their conflict with the human Holy Court is reaching a boiling point. War is imminent. And the Titans... they are unlikely to offer us any assistance."

The plainly dressed man spoke calmly, his voice devoid of regret.

"The Sea Race has been restless lately. Be vigilant. Let us remain hidden for a while longer. Recall our brethren scattered across the other continents."

The imposing figure's voice, calm yet commanding, resonated through the hall. The representatives nodded in unison.