Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

Chapter 118 [The Coffin Dragon King] Juya Irim

The Catanias Mountains.

It stretches across the west of the Kingdom of Inberia, like a silent, enormous scar, cutting through that vast continent.

The mountain range covers an extremely vast area, stretching for hundreds of miles. Its main peak pierces the clouds, and the area above the mountainside is shrouded in thick, impenetrable clouds and mist all year round, preventing sunlight from ever reaching it.

Many adventurers have ventured into the mountains to explore the legendary dragon treasure, to prove their courage, or simply out of youthful exuberance.

But no one has come out.

Over time, this mountain range became a restricted area on the map, marked as a "no entry" black zone.

At this moment, at the summit of the main peak.

It was a huge, flattened platform, large enough to hold a small town, piled high with—

No, it wasn't something "piled up"; it was some kind of living, breathing, writhing horror.

A colossal creature perched atop the mountain.

It is over 150 meters long and looks like a moving hill from a distance, but if you look closely, you will find that it is not a normal biological body at all, but a huge collection of countless corpses.

Human zombies, demi-human zombies, giant zombies, and even dragon zombies.

Tens of thousands of corpses were forcibly mixed together by some force, their rotting flesh sticking together, withered arms extending from their bodies, and empty eye sockets staring at the sky.

They are layered upon each other, like a giant armor made of inanimate objects, tightly encasing the inner core.

This armor can breathe, even though the "thing" inside no longer needs to breathe. With each rise and fall, bits of flesh and bone fall from the gaps and roll down the cliff.

But deep within the armor lies the true core, dormant.

【The Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin】.

Its true title as the Dragon King is long forgotten; this title is merely a pseudonym. Only the oldest beings still remember its true name: "Juya Irim".

Three hundred years ago, it was one of the true dragon kings, wielding the primordial power related to death.

Later, it actively transformed into an undead, abandoning the last trace of warmth as a living being, and becoming a purer existence—the "True Ancestor Dragon," the dragon of the True Ancestor of the Undead.

The cost of this transformation is countless lives.

It once roamed the continent, using its "soul-absorbing" ability to harvest souls.

It absorbs those souls to enhance its own power, while the corpses from which their souls are extracted become part of the "zombie armor" it wears.

Year after year, the armor grew thicker, heavier, and more terrifying.

At this moment, the Coffin Dragon King was deep in thought.

Or rather, it's performing a simple calculation, much like thinking.

"It's almost harvest time again—" The voice came from deep within the armor, muffled like thunder from the earth, resonating with the echoes of countless corpses. "Where to this time?"

It thought for a moment and quickly came up with an answer.

The four countries closest to Kertinias have a combined population of over ten million.

enough.

It's not in a hurry. Harvesting isn't about rushing to collect crops; there's no need to rush. It's not too late to go after a few more years, when those tiny things have multiplied a bit more.

In any case, to it, humans or demi-humans are just leeks to be harvested.

After one harvest, it grows back again after a few years.

As for what those "leeks" who were harvested would think, whether they would be afraid, or whether they would suffer, the Coffin Dragon King never considered these questions.

It even killed many of its own kind.

Some of those dragons had hindered its plans, some it disliked, and some it had simply been unlucky to run into. Now they were all on its back, becoming part of this zombie armor, eternal corpses.

If this is how it is among our own kind, what about other creatures?

"As long as I can eliminate the filth of those Dragon Emperors," it thought silently to itself, "these weak creatures will contribute to my power. Anyway, there's no point in living, so they might as well help me."

"The Dragon Emperor's filth"—that's what it called those outsiders.

The Eight Desire Kings, who descended three hundred years ago, and other "players" who appear every hundred years, are, in its eyes, the biggest cancer in this world.

To deal with them, it needs power, more power, power that it must obtain by any means necessary.

Just as it was engrossed in its next "harvesting plan," it sensed something entering its territory.

The Dragon King in the decaying coffin stirred slightly.

The zombies surrounding its head, those skeletons specifically designed to enhance its senses, simultaneously turned, their empty eye sockets pointing towards the sky.

Something is approaching there.

A dragon.

It is about thirty meters long, and its scales are a strange bronze color, appearing and disappearing in the clouds. Its flight is steady and unhurried, seemingly without any fear of the terrifying behemoth below.

The Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin observed it.

"What kind of creature is this?" it wondered to itself. "The shape of its scales—does it look more like a wyvern? But its aura has already reached at least the ancient stage—"

In its perception, the dragon was quite strong, much stronger than the dragon zombies on its back, but it was only "quite strong".

It is still far from being as good as it is today.

Just like when a human sees a swallow flying by, no matter how good a swallow is at flying or how agile it is, it is still just a swallow.

The Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin just watched quietly, without making a move or a sound.

The dragon flew closer and closer, finally stopping in mid-air beside the main peak, maintaining a polite distance from the Coffin Dragon King.

Then, it opened its mouth.

The voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly pierced through the clouds and the corpses: "Is the one dwelling below the legendary True Dragon King—Lord Juya Irim?"

The Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin was slightly taken aback.

This name hasn't been used in a long time.

Those pseudo-dragon kings who rose to power later didn't even have the right to know this name, let alone those insignificant creatures.

"That is me," it replied, its voice echoing from beneath the layers of corpses, accompanied by the cacophony of countless mouths opening and closing simultaneously. "Whose subordinate are you?"

It subconsciously assumed that this dragon must be a subordinate of one of its kind, since a dragon of this strength couldn't possibly have grown wild.

Only the true dragon king can be regarded as "of the same kind"—as for those false dragon kings who are not strong enough, they are not worthy at all.

"I am but a lowly soldier under the Bronze Dragon King, not worth mentioning," the dragon replied respectfully.

"Bronze Dragon King?" The Coffin Dragon King searched his memory but found nothing. "I have never heard of this name before."

"The Bronze Dragon King came from beyond the East Sea, and was not born on this continent. It is normal that you have not heard of him," the dragon explained, his tone calm and without any flaws.

The Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin remained silent for a moment.

Beyond the East China Sea? It really doesn't know much about that place. If there really is such a true dragon king overseas, it's understandable that it doesn't know about it.

"Oh?" Its voice held a hint of amusement. "What brings the Bronze Dragon King here?"

"The great Bronze Dragon King has long admired your reputation and has specially sent me to invite you to discuss an important matter."

"What's the big deal?"

The dragon lowered its voice, as if afraid of being overheard by a third party: "Discuss—the arrival of the next aftershock in a century, and the corresponding countermeasures."

Beneath the zombie armor, the pupils of the Decaying Coffin Dragon King suddenly contracted.

Aftershocks a century later.

This is an unspoken term among the true dragon kings, referring to the moment when, every hundred years, the "filth of the dragon emperor" descends.

"That is indeed a good suggestion." Its tone changed, becoming much gentler. "It seems that the Bronze Dragon King is well-prepared. Why don't we invite him to come in person, so that I can extend my hospitality?"

"Thank you for your kindness." The dragon bowed slightly. "I will certainly report back truthfully upon my return."

The air fell silent for a moment.

Then, the Dragon King of the Decaying Coffin laughed.

The laughter emanated simultaneously from the throats of countless corpses, eerie and chilling, like the wind passing through a mass grave.

"How long are you going to keep fooling me?"

The dragon seemed taken aback for a moment: "What do you mean by 'fooling'? Everything I said is true."

"Really?" the Coffin Dragon King interrupted. "I've never heard of any Bronze Dragon King. From overseas? Do you take me for a three-year-old dragon?"

Its voice suddenly turned cold: "I know that some filth possesses the means to control others. You are probably a puppet sent by some filth hiding in the shadows to test me!"

In fact, the identity of the Rotten Coffin Dragon King is uncertain.

It doesn't really know the situation overseas, and it's possible that there really is such a Dragon King, but it doesn't need to be sure.

All it needs to do is leave the dragon behind.

If it's a subordinate of a true dragon king, it's not too late to apologize after capturing him. Although those true dragon kings are wary of each other, they wouldn't risk a falling out over a subordinate.

If not—that would be even better.

"This is an insult!" the dragon's voice was tinged with urgency.

"Slander?" The Coffin Dragon King sneered. "I don't care what you say."

Its voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable air of authority: "Also, I have something to tell you."

"I hate looking up at things!"

"You, get down here!"

Before the words were even finished, the massive zombie armor moved.

Countless corpses opened their eyes at the same moment, countless withered arms rose simultaneously, and countless mouths uttered silent roars.

An invisible force surged from the depths of the armor, like a giant hand reaching out to grab the bronze fire dragon in the sky.