Savyon Leon, the Supreme Lich of Eternal Darkness.

As most adventure tales describe, malevolent dragons and wicked liches invariably appear together. As the world-renowned immortal calamity, Nidhogg indeed possessed such a lich companion.

Savyon Leon, a scholar-type Lich, spent his entire life pursuing ultimate power and magic. Once honored as a guest of the Asmodean family—one of the Four Pillars of the Demon Clan—he provided them with numerous devastating forbidden spells through extensive magical experiments. He was one of the greatest threats to the Allied forces during the Third Expeditionary War.

But there are no permanent friends, nor permanent enemies.

Faced with the Dragon Clan advancing before them and the Light Knights’ army bearing down from behind, even the subterranean tunnels seemed crawling with mithril runes—the Asmodean family had no chance of victory. Byron told Nidhogg that if there was any hope left for them to turn the tide, it likely lay with that necromancer of dark arts. Savvy had indeed found his only path to survival—immediately defecting to the expeditionary force.

When it came to double-crossing, Lich had a well-earned reputation.

As a peculiar race surviving in the crevice between demons and undead, they belonged neither to the Demon Realm nor the Netherworld. Loyalty was utterly foreign to them—after all, each lich might have been any race in life.

Savvy never revealed his former race, always claiming he’d forgotten. Yet he remembered fiercely defending the copyright of his magical thesis. One of his most famous quips was: “They say I became a Lich to avoid death? Wrong! Dead wrong! I became one to prevent my thesis from being stolen by my professor after I died!”

Evidently, he’d suffered greatly from academic societies and thesis pressures even during his mage tower days.

Sadly, after a millennium, he proved only one thing: cattle remain cattle even with immortality—still forced to rise early Monday mornings to slave for idiotic bosses.

Savvy’s greatest act of mercy toward the Asmodeus family was dragging them down with him.

The Asmodeus family’s last-minute defection hastened the demise of the former Demon King, Baimon. As one of the instigators of the Third Expeditionary War, the Asmodeus family—once the Demon Sovereign—became a pivotal symbol of renouncing darkness for light. Post-war, they sat at the round table of spoils as victors, claiming their share with full legitimacy.

It was nothing short of performance art.

The Lich Savvy also reaped the rewards of victory. Transformed from one of the most renowned Lich Lords into the undisputed supreme Lich, he was crowned the Overlord of the Skeletal Throne, becoming the sole ruler commanding countless necromancers.

Now, this sovereign, his sinister skull expression unreadable, radiating pure irritation, conveyed through the demonic phantom: “You’d better give me a reason beyond mere showboating.”

Nidhogg raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been genuinely swamped lately,” the Arch Lich immediately softened his tone, demonstrating remarkable flexibility—after all, he truly couldn’t win. “I’d only just fallen asleep today.”

“Busy with what? Babysitting the Pope?”

Before answering the magic communication, even in his dazed state, Savvy had taken care to disguise his surroundings—at least making them pitch-black and hollow, like the secluded lair befitting a respectable Lich Lord, pretending he was still the Arch Lich who would turn miscalculating students into astrolabes at the slightest provocation. He never expected Nidhogg to drop that line out of nowhere. His bones nearly froze solid.

It took him a while to find his creaking jaw again, stammering out, “I… I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

As he spoke, his eyes darted guiltily toward a corner behind the magic communication device, terrified that some child bathed in light might suddenly appear from there and expose his pathetic lie.

Nidhogg had slumbered in the Chaos Abyss for nearly a millennium. The continent had undergone profound changes; time had passed, and many things had shifted. For instance, the dragon clans now prided themselves on being civilized dragons, no longer raiding elves on a whim. Or take the once-mighty Lich King…

Now, for certain reasons, he hid his true nature within the human Upper Penia Federation, assisting the Church of Light in caring for children.

More accurately, he served as tutor to the new, young Holy Son.

In other words, the Arch Lich who had once fallen into eternal darkness was now neither fallen nor dark—perhaps not even truly an Arch Lich anymore.

Nidhogg refrained from exposing his face-conscious old friend, merely asking, “Has Job’s eyesight been restored?”

Dragons never owe favors. As gratitude for Job’s recipes, Nidhogg introduced a physician to his own dim, gray eyes— the Lich Savvy. Though the latter repeatedly insisted he was merely a scholar of corpses and bones—the greatest embodiment of darkness itself—and asked Nidhogg to show a modicum of respect for his profession, this did nothing to diminish the fact that his medical skills, honed over millennia of study, were unmatched in the world. Nidhogg even entrusted Job to deliver a cup of Xiguiya to him.

In truth, this golden chalice—symbolizing the goddess of health—now sat upon Savvy’s desk, directly opposite him.

Beside the chalice hung an oil painting delivered but days prior. Within its frame were Savvy himself, his young apprentice, and the human Job—grinning so widely his teeth gleamed, one hand resting on each of their shoulders.

“…He’s alright. They’ve left.” Who had betrayed his current situation? It was truly hard to guess. The words seemed to flicker in the empty sockets of the Lich’s eyes.

Apart from the ever-radiant Job, the two figures in the portrait—one large, one small—were anything but cooperative. Savvy always felt his skull wasn’t photogenic and wasn’t keen on being immortalized like this. As for the little boy, barely reaching their waists, his once flamboyant and arrogant face was now expressionless, filled with a world-weary disdain.

And he certainly had reason to hate it. The Holy Son’s tumultuous journey over the past few years was enough to make even a Lich shake his head.

Anyway…

“Did the Holy Son ever give you any gems?”

“I’m just his teacher, not his father.” Savvy had plenty to say about his pupil. The boy devoured knowledge like a starving man, absorbing magic as quickly as a sponge soaking up water. Savvy had nearly lost his temper trying to keep up with the child’s learning pace. No teacher could dislike such a brilliant student.

“Oh, then he hasn’t.” The dragon, sitting astride his face, was thoroughly satisfied. Without another word, he severed the connection, leaving no chance for a comeback.

Meanwhile, beside the dragon, young El—now safely back in the nest—was buried in a pile of glittering treasures. His wide, astonished eyes scanned the mountain of rewards the dragon lord had bestowed like a tidal wave, meticulously counting each item.

Dragon’s affection was always this raw and unapologetic. His son had given him a handful of gems, and Nidhogg was so moved he wanted to repay him with a cave full of treasures. But after pulling out just a fraction from his pocket dimension, it nearly drowned his five-apple-tall son completely. Amidst the ocean of exquisitely crafted artifacts, his young cub shone brighter than any treasure.

The kid silently cheered himself on, determined to become a valuable player for the team.

Meanwhile, the mighty dragon lord was preoccupied with how to display the gems his son had given him. He pondered the best way to showcase them prominently, ensuring everyone could see them at a glance.

He even felt a pang of regret that he couldn’t display every single gift in such a manner.

The rewards El received from the dragon aunts and uncles weren’t just gems; there were also many other strange and wonderful things. Common items like gold and silver weren’t worth mentioning. Most importantly, among them were numerous seeds shimmering with magical light.

The little boy was overjoyed. He felt like he’d just unlocked a new game mode.

—Farming.

He knew it! With a homestead system, how could there not be a farming mode?

A few days ago, while helping Mr. Dragon set up their home, Ai had wanted to ask: Where would they build the farm? The pasture? Did they need a fish pond, too? He was great at fishing!

But unfortunately, communication had been rather difficult back then.

Of course, today wasn’t easy either.

Mr. Dragon still couldn’t understand what he was saying, and he couldn’t understand the dragon’s language either. But that was okay. While interacting with many dragons today, the little boy had come up with a brilliant idea.

Holding the seeds, El repeated slowly and deliberately to the dragon: “Planting. We plant the seeds together, okay?” The chubby little boy accompanied his words with gestures of digging into the soil and burying the seeds.

After repeating this several times without impatience and confirming the dragon understood, he moved to the next step. He extended his left hand toward the dragon while nodding and saying “Yes,” then extended his right hand while shaking his head and saying “No.” After doing this back and forth twice, the dragon grasped the concept and tried placing a gem in his left hand as a response.

The child repeated his question clearly, only this time swapping the “okay” and “not okay” gestures between hands, then looked up at the dragon expectantly.

Nidhogg naturally wouldn’t disappoint his son. Without hesitation, he chose his right hand again with the gem and tried to mimic his son’s peculiar speech: “Okay.”

The dragon father and son’s first communication was a resounding success!

Then, little El eagerly followed Mr. Dragon outside the lair to start a farm, carrying the golden hoe the dragon had fashioned for him from ready-made gold.

Of course, the little one couldn’t do much actual work in clearing the land. His main role was clapping and praising—a fashion accessory Dragon Dad absolutely adored.

The way to unlock Farm Mode wasn’t quite what El had imagined. Clutching his little helper bucket, he stood beside the neatly squared farm plot, utterly bewildered. But he didn’t ponder it for long—after all, what child could resist playing in the dirt?

The little one immediately dashed toward the farm with excitement.

Don’t ask what this game’s charm is—he didn’t know either. All he knew was that his golden little hoe and shovel were practically smoking from use that day. After a whole afternoon of hard work, all for the promise of a bountiful harvest the next day.

The result…

Nothing at all.

Waking up earlier than usual, the little boy was utterly baffled. He couldn’t understand why his farm was completely empty. That shouldn’t be possible! Didn’t you just plant the seeds, water them, and then harvest a whole farm’s worth of vegetables the next day? The only thing he needed to guard against was his friends stealing his crops. But he hadn’t even added a single game friend yet.

But where were his vegetables?

He’d planned it all last night—making a Nicoise salad with Mr. Dragon, then sharing it with Uncle Green Dragon and Aunt Thunder Dragon next door!

The child felt the world crumble beneath him, betrayed by the entire universe.

Dragon Dad was utterly at a loss. He could charge into battle for his son, win any war, grant him all the world’s riches, and bestow supreme authority. Yet all the little one wanted now was a bowl of Nicoise salad made with vegetables from his own garden—just like the honey cupcakes Uncle Green Dragon had made for him yesterday. The child looked so heartbroken, as if his whole being were melting away.

Nidhogg discussed solemnly with Byron, who had come to register for the third time: “Would bringing in a dark elf solve this problem?”

Elder Byron nearly had a heart attack: “Absolutely not!!!” 

New era, new magic, we’re striving to be civilized dragons—thank you!

“True. Dark elves don’t exactly sound like they’d be favored by the Nature Goddess. Elves are still the way to go.” But those orthodox elves are so annoying, the dragon thought, curling his lip in disgust.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Author’s Note:

The male lead has arrived! Actually, he appeared back in Chapter 5—in photo form, lol.

Little Holy Son = Duke’s eldest grandson = Job’s nephew = Male Lead

As for why such a drastic identity shift occurred, that’ll be explained later.

Spoiler alert: There won’t be a lifespan mismatch between the dom and sub. His background is complicated, but rest assured—he won’t be limited to the typical human lifespan of a hundred years.

*Neither Fallen nor Dark: This draws inspiration from an old hell joke: The Holy Roman Empire was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.

*This good/bad communication style was inspired by the internet meme that went viral recently… the Border Collie Turtle Soup. Hahahahaha.