Experimental Log of the Crazy Lich

Chapter 787 Final Battle Part 12

Sophocles the Deceiver. His true abilities and aces were unknown. He was a rare demon who used his brains more than his muscles. There were many records of his battles, but he had showed off far too many different abilities. The large amount of uncertain information meant that there was no useful information at all.

It was obvious that Sophocles had been trying to intentionally hide concrete information about himself. He had always been hiding his true power.

Judging by his actions and personality, and how he used schemes far more than brute force, he seemed far more like a devil than a demon. When I interacted with him, I also became certain that he was someone overly cautious and extremely sly.

During the battle of Hell, Sophocles had shamelessly reneged on our agreements multiple times based on the current situation. Once he noticed that things weren’t going well, he shamelessly only put up an act of a fight. At the end, he even more shamelessly admitted defeat. If such news were to spread, it would be a complete loss of face for any Main God.

It was the same back in the Sala Dukedom. Even though Sophocles opened up a portal from the Chaos Abyss, he only sent subordinates to carefully test the waters. Once he discovered that we were there, he unhesitatingly abandoned his plan to forcefully descend there, even if he claimed to have never given up.

Sophocles was sly, calculating, and cautious. These were excellent traits for survival, but they weren’t suitable traits for being a powerful leader. His personality traits were completely unsuited for his status of being one of the most powerful individuals in the world.

It could be said that Sophocles ranked at the bottom of all the Chaos Main Gods in both reputation and power level.

However, the very fact that he had survived until now was evidence that his personal path might not be so wrong after all.

I was currently having difficulty comprehending him.

Sophocles’ heroic armor of light didn’t have even a trace of Holy Light. The pitch-black demon wearing extravagant armor opened his bat-like wings which had a wingspan of several hundred meters, yet he didn’t stir up any furious gusts.

Instead, his wings were actually gathering light.

All light particles in the area went over to his black wings, or perhaps more accurately, all light was being devoured by his wings.

The black wings spread out fully, and covered the entire sky as all light gathered and condensed upon them. This light actually made Sophocles appear more like an angel as his originally vicious expression became calm under the light’s illumination.

Only then did I clearly see his current face. His facial features all melted away to reveal a pitch-black faceless individual who was nothing more than a shadow that devoured all light.

With the light’s illumination, Sophocles now seemed like his face was a hazily distorted black hole. His wings seemed like wings of light and darkness overlapping one another. There was even faint holy song sounding around this many-winged Demon Main God as magical crosses appeared on his black horns.

Sophocles descended from the sky together with light and darkness. The abnormal divine and ritualistic aura around him made him seem more like an angel than a demon.

This absolutely wasn’t a power that any demon should have possessed, nor was this something that his armor would possibly be capable of doing. In fact, it was the opposite. His extravagant armor had been serving to conceal and suppress his true form.

I faintly felt that the current Sophocles was his true form, an existence of both light and darkness.

I was most confused by his current attitude of wanting to have a fight to the death against me right here and now. This was far too different from the previous Sophocles who would only fight when it was advantageous for him.

“Is he fighting his utmost for the sake of helping Donatis? That’s definitely impossible. So, why is he doing this?”

Today’s battle attracted far too much attention from everyone, yet Sophocles unhesitatingly revealed this power of his. This was completely unlike his normal personality.

Originally, I had picked everyone’s opponents based on our own power levels. Titan, the strongest among us, would deal with Donatis. I would then deal with Sophocles, who shouldn’t have been motivated to go all out against me. But, he currently had no intention of even trying to talk as he made it quite clear that he would attack with full force. It seemed that I was unlucky yet again.

However, Sophocles would never give me any time to wonder about what was going on. I had to put aside my doubts and focus on the battle at hand.

As the battle between the Gods continued at the western battlefront and escalated to mythical proportions, the battle at the eastern front still raged on as well.

A corrosive wind blew past the mountains as large patches of dark clouds gathered together. Powerful winds were blowing as rain fell quite unnaturally. Dawn’s light was also piercing through this evil sky.

The Southern Sect’s priests of Holy Light had created numerous lights of salvation in the sky as if they had been prepared for this rain. The evil rain was unable to fall upon any location that the light shone upon.

As light dispelled the dark clouds, the faint sound of a man cursing and shouting in pain could be heard from the thickest cloud.

A cruel battle between dragons raged above the clouds.

Correct, a battle between dragons, where one dragon fought against several hundred dragons.

The furious Lord of Tyranny was curled up in a ball in the sky as his two gigantic dragon heads kept spitting fire and ice, respectively. The hellfire flames instantly evaporated the entire river that was so famous in the area, and then instantly transformed this place into a hellish desert inferno.

Yet, this powerful Devil Main God was currently in the greatest danger of his life.

Several hundred ancient dragons were ganging up on this “humiliation and traitor of the dragon species”, who was also known as the “living black stain upon all dragons”.

Red dragons were flying swiftly and spitting flames, and bronze dragons jumped onto Sarwenstan’s back and used their naturally hard claws and fangs to tear his scales. Even the weak and foolish Green Dragon and White Dragons would still be incredibly fearsome beasts of war after a sufficient amount of time.

Dragonbreath and draconic might became incredibly common sights in this battle. Both sides had incredibly high magic resistance and only average magic attack power, meaning that this battle between dragons would easily become a bloody physical fight.

This meant that it would be a contest of who had tougher skin and sharper fangs and claws. It was evident that Sarwenstan was overwhelmingly powerful in this aspect.

Dragons constantly fell out of the sky, while additional dragons kept flying up to replace them. Three major Dragon Cities had allied today, so the dragon army didn’t need to worry about not having enough troops. All that was needed was to constantly weaken Sarwenstan.

However, the main characters of this fight weren’t from the legendary Dragon Cities.

Translucent wings of night fluttered through the sky as these dragons’ flowing bodies were obscured by black mist, revealing only blood-red eyes which shone abnormally in the darkness.

These were the dragons of death, known as Hell Dragons, the dragons of the Death God.

These messengers of Hell didn’t expose their real appearance. The mist around their bodies was actually a way to protect others.

Hell Dragons were the incarnation of death itself, meaning that spreading death had become a natural instinct for them. Any weak existence from the mortal plane who saw the true body of a Hell Dragon or was looked upon by a Hell Dragon would likely die instantly.

The bloody battle from Hell reenacted itself as the Hell Dragons flew around swiftly for a clever encirclement while the other dragons attacked Sarwenstan together.

The Hell Dragons also surrounded the powerful Devil Main God, and kept aiming breath attacks at him. The Hell Dragons didn’t even need to get close for physical combat, as the aura of death from Hell in their breath was far more dangerous and fatal than any other type of dragonbreath.

Dragons were incredibly proud of their astounding physical and magical resistance, but that was all useless in front of Hell’s dragonbreath of death.

Sarwenstan hadn’t cared when he took his first Hell Dragon breath attack, but now he noticed that something was wrong with the situation. Even though he still hadn’t seen through what Hell Dragons’ traits really were, he noticed that every breath from them was dragging him closer to his death.

Sarwwenstan was feeling tired and fatigued. As he recalled how he had lost so many battles recently, a mysterious fear welled up within him.

‘Am I really going to be dragged to my death by a group of low-level lizards like them?’

Sarwenstan wanted to run, but was completely unable to escape from the dragons’ encirclement.

Meanwhile, a familiar energy wavelength from the west made him really want to rush to the western battlefront as fast as he could.