This Lich Requests More Remuneration
Chapter 371 - 344: Allen’s Speech

Chapter 371: Chapter 344: Allen’s Speech

The Laine invasion of Impure Chant was something many on the continent had anticipated, but the war unfolded in a way that left all onlookers somewhat perplexed.

Firstly, the Magic Dragon Armament displayed terrifying power on the battlefield, reducing a large number of the Gates of Hell to nothingness.

It was presumed that Impure Chant would immediately open the remaining Gates of Hell to engage in a do-or-die battle with Laine, or perhaps surrender without any further meaningless bloodshed.

Yet neither of these scenarios happened, the Gates of Hell still existed, and the Council of Injustice did not surrender, nor did they send any commands to the frontlines.

This left everyone thoroughly confused.

Curious individuals soon discovered that an accident had occurred in the Royal Capital of Impure Chant.

It was a terrible fire, with half the Royal Capital plunged into a sea of flames, countless people howling in the inferno. The earth cracked open, and numerous monstrous creatures from Hell emerged, dragging the souls of those who perished in the fire into the depths of Hell.

This seemed unbelievable, but as countless pieces of intelligence came in, the message was consistent, the Royal Capital of Impure Chant was destroyed in the fierce flames, and minor fires also broke out throughout the kingdom.

All thirteen of the Impures and key members of their families perished in the fire and fell into Hell.

When the Laine People learned of this news, it coincidentally marked the third day, meaning it was time for the Laines to launch their second offensive.

As long as they destroyed the remaining Gates of Hell, they could defeat the scattered Tiflin forces and smoothly take over the kingdom.

The Young Emperor of Laine was delighted, having not anticipated that his personal command would proceed so smoothly; he immediately delivered a speech.

Though his oratory skills were lacking, his speech too excited, his diction unclear, and his breath inadequate, the content of the speech was indeed very inspiring. Those Tiflins had gone to Hell, this was the punishment drawn down by the Lord of the Dawn, and all enemies who opposed Laine would fall into Hell.

No matter how shrill and weak the Young Emperor’s voice might have been, the fact laid before them was incredibly real.

Before they had even begun to truly mobilize, the rulers of Tiflin were finished—what was this if not a miracle?

Just as the Laine People were howling about taking down Impure Chant, a different sound suddenly came from outside the city.

"This is an unjust war!"

A young but resolute voice came from beyond the city walls, startling the Laine soldiers who were listening to the Young Emperor’s address!

The Young Emperor roared in anger, "Who is it?! Seize him!"

The guards hurried to find this disrespectful individual, but they quickly discovered that the voice was coming from the sky.

Someone was flying over Flow Flame City, using some kind of sound amplification magic to shout at the city, speaking rebellious and treasonous words.

This person was denying the legitimacy of the war, listing the war crimes committed by Laine over the years, and condemning the increasingly extreme religious zealotry in Laine.

The Young Emperor listened with clenched teeth—this was rebellion!

Not only was the content problematic, but the individual’s level of speech was far superior to his own; despite the great distance, each word was clear, and the things he spoke of were particularly inciting.

The Young Emperor angrily ordered, "Shoot him down!"

The guards hurriedly responded, "Your Majesty, he is flying too high, beyond the reach of Magic Attack."

"Useless fools! I’ll do it myself!"

The Young Emperor tugged at the blood-red Rose necklace on his chest, and his body began to drift into the sky.

Once again transforming into a Giant Time Dragon, the Young Emperor soared into the sky.

With a flap of his wings causing whirls of dust and stones, the soldiers below had to squint their eyes against the debris.

The Time Dragon flew upward, its dragon’s eyes spotting the dissenter from afar, and the Young Emperor immediately recognized who this defiant traitor was.

"Allen Watson! It was you, you traitor!"

The Young Emperor let out an angry roar as he opened his mouth to release a breath of time at Allen.

Countless flares, like specks of silver, flew out, intent on engulfing Allen. This breath could instantly reduce Allen to a mound of bones, as if he had been dead for centuries.

But just as it was about to hit Allen’s body, a buzzing sound erupted from behind Allen, and then he flew to an even higher altitude at incredible speed, easily avoiding the dragon’s breath attack.

The Young Emperor was dumbfounded—how could Allen possibly fly so fast?

Although the Young Emperor was neither a scholar nor a warrior, he still had some basic knowledge—for instance, the top speed of a Flight Spell could not exceed seventy kilometers per hour, but Allen’s speed upon liftoff was several times faster than the spell, even outpacing the dragon breath.

How could that be?

Allen hovered high above, marvelling at his own speed, thinking, "This flying backpack is truly formidable, the Lich has really created something extraordinary!"

The flying backpack was something Amberser had sent over after finding him, saying that Allen would find it useful.

Allen immediately understood what Amberser meant; he didn’t want him to go to his death.

Although he had been trying hard, he and Frodo hadn’t found anyone willing to join their rebellion in the past few days.

Just the two of them couldn’t stop the war, so Allen decided to have Frodo hide for now while he took the risks.

And this flying backpack from Amberser was a godsend, increasing Allen’s chances of survival.

Allen was no longer the naive youth of before. Having experienced the war and survived countless battles, he especially understood the impressive capabilities of the flying backpack.

In today’s world, there is nothing that can fly as fast as this. It might not be of much use to a Paladin, but what if it were worn by a Ranger or a Mage?

An attacker from afar that can’t be caught—how formidable a foe is that?

However, it’s a bit difficult to achieve this.

That sudden acceleration just now caused Allen so much shoulder pain that he feared he might get injured if it happened a few more times.

Your average Ranger or Mage couldn’t withstand such a terrifying acceleration force—likely, their bones would break after just one use. And even if the flying backpack were mounted on Heavy Armor, the dreadful acceleration could cause blood to flow in reverse, potentially knocking out those with a weaker constitution.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like this device was best suited for the Undead!

Just imagining tens of thousands of Undead armies equipped with such flying backpacks, launching aerial attacks on ground troops—how terrifying a sight that would be.

"Thankfully, it seems that the Lich isn’t too evil."

Although Allen’s mind wandered with these thoughts, he was clear on what he should do. So, while evading the Time Dragon’s attacks, he still loudly proclaimed his ideals.

No matter how many people agreed, he had to speak out everything he believed, to serve as the sparking flame that would awaken more Laine People.

The Young Emperor controlled the Time Dragon’s body, desperately trying to catch up to Allen.

But no matter how hard he flapped his wings, he could only trail behind Allen, choking on his exhaust.

The air, compressed by the Magic Array, carried a faint burnt smell, and the Giant Dragon’s sense of smell was much stronger than that of humans. Following in the wake of such fumes drove the Young Emperor to near madness with rage.

He truly wanted to use the Power of Time to turn Allen into a pile of bones, but while it was easy to stop something stationary, he couldn’t lock on to such a small, erratically moving target.

After all, he was merely an untrained, frail individual; even possessing the body of a Giant Dragon, it was hard to make full use of its power.

The Young Emperor could only watch helplessly as Allen spoke eloquently, continually indicting the Ryan Royal Family for their years of crimes—most of which were their fault.

All the generals of the Imperial Loyalist Faction were resolute fanatics—take Ironblood General Rachel Angelo, for example. They had committed heinous crimes more than once, and the massacre of Foreign Races was routine.

These were all crimes with undeniable evidence. Before, no one spoke out, and everyone turned a blind eye, but as Allen read out such vile acts, people below began to reflect.

Not everyone can accept the massacre of women and children as an act of righteousness, and many Laine People had been criticized for not being extreme enough.

Perhaps it was just a lack of focus during prayers, or a lack of enthusiasm to enlist in the military, or maybe just because it looked like they didn’t train hard enough. If you didn’t break your bones in training, you weren’t considered diligent. Everyone else chose lofty ideals, donating their pay to the Lord of the Dawn’s temple, how could you have the face to buy new clothes for yourself?

All these things, as Allen enumerated those that everyone had seen, were all traced back to the Ryan Royalty. Almost every day, they pushed the faith of Laine to even more extreme depths. They loudly rewarded those Laine People who gave without limits, inciting the populace to scorn those who began to think for themselves.

There were those who had taken the money set aside for their family’s medical care to donate to the nation, leading to their families’ deaths. Yet these individuals received personal audiences with the Royal Family, were given the highest honors, and even compelled their neighbors to give their entire fortunes.

Even though the Court of Judgment would immediately offer aid once they knew, it was often too late. And no one could criticize the Ryan Royal Family’s actions because they were done under the guise of faith; if you opposed them, you were a heretic.

Fanaticism was polluting their faith, turning what was beautiful into something hideous, glory into sin. It was only because Laine had deep roots that it could withstand such ravaging.

But now, the time for a turning point had almost come.

When Allen began his speech, those Laine soldiers were filled with righteous indignation, wishing they could fly up high and tear him into pieces. But as Allen shared his experiences, many started to empathize.

Their initially high-held heads began to lower, as if they couldn’t look directly at the sun above.

No one in Flow Flame City would speak a kind word for Allen, the rebel, nor respond to his call. The war would still go on.

But these Laine People now knew one thing: there was someone who believed Laine was on the wrong path and had chosen another way.

The Young Emperor, realizing he couldn’t catch up after a long chase, could only return to Flow Flame City.

He didn’t want to deal with Allen the rebel anymore, so he simply shouted an order, "All units, attack! Let’s take down the Impure Chant!"