Chapter 1218

Over time, Duke never expected that after thousands of years, someone would bring him the same feeling he had when he first met Homer.

There was no magical aura on him, and even his face had started to show signs of aging, but the brilliance in his eyes was as awe-inspiring as it was in Homer's time.

It was the glow of wisdom, the vision that transcended time.

His name was Poincaré, a descendant who initially believed in Homer's scientific path and unwaveringly chose to carry on the legacy left by the descendants who stayed on the surface.

Now, the seed has taken root and grown into a towering tree.

"So, this is the real nuclear explosion."

"Igniter, the switch that creates infinite energy."

"Nuclear explosion is not a forbidden curse, but a scientific phenomenon, the power of the fundamental matter." After understanding everything that happened back then, Poincaré suddenly realized.

This is the truth of everything, a nuclear explosion is not a forbidden curse cast by a warlock, but a weapon of science, powerful enough to destroy everything, the ultimate weapon.

It is only natural for the Empire's titled machine to lose. This is advanced technology beyond titled machine, a secret technology that should be used to create miniature suns.

That theory now only exists as some vague concepts in Poincaré's imagination.

Unexpectedly, even in the divine era, pioneers had already created this kind of miracle with their own hands. It's just a pity that they greatly underestimated the destructive power of this technology and relied too much on the experience of magic. They even attempted to bind this power with magic circles.

It was the limitation of the times. They didn't realize how difficult it was to create a miniature sun and how far-fetched it was to try to control the power of the sun.

But their method was correct, Poincaré could be sure of that.

"I will continue their research."

"The power of a nuclear explosion will surely belong to humans."

Without any hesitation, Poincaré immediately decided to take up the flag of Homer and the Last Miracle Generation, completing their unfinished dream.

"Then, everything is up to you."

"I have lost my creativity and imagination, as the price of immortality, maybe soon even my emotions will disappear." Duke told Poincaré the hiding place of the ignition device and all of Homer's research materials, and the fire in his eyes began to flicker.

The immortality of a lich has a cost, and they, who send their phylactery into the bonfire, essentially become ashes.

It is indeed possible for one to become a lich and achieve immortality, but all emotions will gradually disappear, along with the uniquely human ability to create and imagine.

Even though they naturally acquire astronomical knowledge after experiencing long periods of time, it remains only stored like a library, without the ability to possess human inspiration.

This is not the perfect immortality that the wizards seek. Transforming into a lich, a wizard can repeat experiments countless times, but loses the ability to create miracles.

Therefore, liches can exist as the leaders of the Undead Army, but they can never again become the seeds that change the world.

The future belongs to the living, and the deceased who should have long been asleep only escaped the laws of nature in a twisted manner, forever trapped in the gaps between the past and the present.

And it is this kind of power that doesn't belong to the Council of Red Robed wizards, but rather the privilege of the Underground Cemetery.

The mysterious King of Undead shows a higher level of mystery than Homer's scientific path.

Whether the scientific or mysterious side is more suitable for Sia's world, Duke can no longer answer this question, and has lost the ability to find an answer.

"Is this the price... the price of immortality..." Poincaré looked at his ancestors who had survived in the Underground Cemetery until now, even if they had survived in such a state, they had created some kind of miracle.

This way of immortal existence is worth studying.

"No... it is the price of the weak..."

"We lost to The King of Undead... That's why we have to pay such a price..."

"The strong have the privilege to dominate everything, and this is a rule that will never change."

"We, obedient to this rule, pledge allegiance to the great The King of Undead."

I didn't betray the great king. Witness with me the strongest existence on the mysterious side, entrusted with all the legacy left by Homer to Poincaré. Duke fulfilled his final wish, as he could feel that his time was running out.

This obsession, combined with the protection of the magic star, is the most important reason why his emotions didn't dissipate after being transformed into a lich.

When Poincaré took over this legacy, his obsession disappeared, and the 'something' that had been supporting him also disappeared.

"Crack!" Something invisible seemed to start cracking little by little within his body.

The last remnants of the soul fire that had been formed over a long period of time slowly dissipated, and the soul fire in Duke's eye sockets quietly shrank.

Soon, there was no longer any trace of an attachment emanating from Duke that made Poincaré feel somewhat bound.

He coldly glanced at Poincaré, like the other liches hovering around the venue, and began to move in a regular pattern.

In that moment, Poincaré knew that the Speaker Duke, who had just talked to him, had forever disappeared, along with the secrets of the divine era and the origin of nuclear explosions, the biggest catastrophe humanity had ever experienced.

What now existed here were undead beings who had endured millions of years, with only the magical star emblems on their chests, without any connection between the two.

"Goodbye... Speaker." Poincaré gently bowed to the departing lich, showing respect for the departed pioneers.

The Speaker, dressed in red robes, had done everything he could, but unfortunately, the science of that era had come to a halt after losing Homer and the last generation of miracles.

Whether it was Homer or the Speaker Duke, they were the people who made choices in that era.

There is no right or wrong, only mistakes made by them, limited by their era, mistakes that all the people in that era would make.

The path of science inevitably requires paying the price of such mistakes. They were the pioneers, and now their legacy will be inherited by Poincaré and the scholars.

In an era without magic, science is the truth. Countless new formulas have already emerged in Poincaré's mind.

In the blurry mist, Poincaré saw the truth, the essence that symbolizes the beauty of matter.

At the top of the Tower of Babylon, a magical ladder was descending.

The King of Undead, wearing pitch-black armor and exuding the aura of ruling the world, appeared before the representatives of all the powers in Sia's world.

The king has returned.

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