Chapter 157: Seeking the Void
Inside the cavern.
Twenty-odd adventurers were huddled into a trembling mass in the corner, their bodies vibrating with an unstoppable chill. The bald leader, who had just been blown away by the dragon's "sigh," scrambled up from the dirt. His mind was a total blank, but his body—honed by years of groveling before the powerful—reacted on pure instinct. He performed a flawless "gliding kneel," sliding across the stones until he was prostrate before the beast.
The posture was standard. The submission was absolute.
His companions stared in stunned silence before one of them nudged him with an elbow. "Captain... say something!"
"Say what?! Wish him bon appétit?!"
"Answer the damn question before he turns us into ash!"
Ignius lay on the cave floor, idly using the tip of one obsidian claw to scratch rhythmic grooves into the solid rock. The screeching sound of claw on stone sent cold sweat pouring down the adventurers' spines.
They had imagined a hundred variations of the "Good Life" after slaying a dragon. Buying a manor, retiring in the Capital, opening a cozy tavern in Iron Fortress... they had imagined everything except for the fact that the dragon would talk.
A dragon that spoke was a fundamentally different existence from a mere mabeast. The former was a catastrophe that could negotiate with kings; the latter was just an oversized trophy to brag about over ale. Today, they had kicked a wall of enchanted steel.
Ignius lifted his gargantuan head, his golden vertical pupils scanning the humans who looked seconds away from losing control of their bladders.
"You've had enough time to consider," his voice boomed, vibrating the very marrow of their bones. "Now, we begin the inquiry."
"Tell me: on this continent... who is the strongest?"
The bald captain didn't even pause to breathe. "The Sovereign of Evernight!"
"Hoh?" Ignius felt a spark of interest. "A Sovereign? Sounds like a human king. How many legions does he command? How many gold crowns sit in his vault?"
"No... not a human..." the captain stammered, searching for words that wouldn't invite a blast of fire. "He is... an Undead. A skeleton!"
"A skeleton?"
A look of human-like bewilderment crossed the dragon's massive face. "You mean to tell me a mere bone-rack is the apex predator of this world?"
"Yes! It's the absolute truth!" another scrawny adventurer chirped, desperate to be useful. "That Personage only moved once, and the entire Crusade of the Theocracy—tens of thousands of men—were turned into his loyal subjects in a heartbeat!"
"Subjects? By his charisma?" Ignius asked, skeptical. "He persuaded them with a speech?"
"No! He turned them into undead... literally!"
The adventurers scrambled over each other to provide the horrific details.
"The sky tore open! An Eye appeared in the void! It looked at them, and they just... rotted away and stood back up as his soldiers!"
"He took the Pope's heart right out of his chest!"
"Every kingdom has surrendered! The entire continent is now the Evernight Empire!"
The cavern fell into a pensive silence.
Ignius processed the data. A skeleton. Possesses an unknown 'Authority.' Capable of mass-conversion. Rules the continent. He reached a logical, dragon-brained conclusion.
"So, what you're saying is... all the treasures of this world are currently held in the hands of a single skeleton?"
The adventurers blinked, then nodded frantically. "You... you could put it that way, yes!"
"Perfect!"
Ignius slammed a claw into the floor. The mountain groaned, and a shower of pebbles fell from the ceiling. The adventurers huddled closer together, weeping.
"Think of how much time this saves me!" Ignius began pacing the cavern, his tail sweeping through the dust. "I was prepared to raid city by city, town by town. But now? The target is singular. I simply have to rob the skeleton!"
The adventurers stared at each other, their expressions a mix of horror and pity. Is this dragon... a complete idiot?
Robbing the Sovereign of Evernight? That's like lighting a candle in a powder keg—you're just looking for a shallow grave!
The bald captain summoned his courage, his voice wavering. "Um... Divine Lord of the Scales... that Monarch... he is truly, impossibly strong..."
Ignius lowered his head, his golden gaze pinning the captain to the floor. "I am aware."
"However... I am a Dragon."
"We are the most noble race in existence. A mere ghost—no matter what parlor tricks he uses—cannot possibly stand against the peak of the natural order."
"But he has the Seven Generals!" a guard added. "Each one is a Tier 6 powerhouse!"
"Oh? Seven?" Ignius gave a dismissive snort. "Before I crossed the salt, I dismantled a 500-year-old Red Dragon prodigy of the same rank. Seven 'local' Tier 6s? I could snuff them out with a single breath."
The adventurers went mute. They realized they were facing a species-level barrier in communication. Arrogance was the dragons' primary element.
Ignius pressed on. "Where is this skeleton's lair? What is its name? Is it the hoard with the most gold on the mainland?"
"It's... the Evernight Territory," the captain wheezed. "It's the heart of the Empire. The wealth there is incalculable... but..."
"But what?"
"Only the dead can enter. A living soul wouldn't last ten minutes in that atmosphere."
Ignius paused. He was arrogant, but he wasn't suicidal. An entity that commanded seven Tier 6 subordinates was likely a Tier 7 Ancient. Facing a superior opponent in their own stronghold was something only a feral beast would do. Besides, the Elders had warned him not to provoke the "National Hubs" of the continent.
"It matters not," Ignius said, sprawling back onto the floor. "In a few centuries—two millennia at most—I shall reach Tier 7 myself. When that day comes, I shall take his vault as my own."
In Ignius's mind, his ascension to an Ancient Dragon was an inevitability; it was merely a matter of waiting for the clock to tick. But since the "Grand Vault" was off-limits for the moment, he needed a secondary target.
Ignius looked at the humans who were practically melting into the shadows of the corner. "Aside from the skeleton's nest, where is the second wealthiest province on this continent?"
The adventurers shared a quick look before the captain answered. "Iron... Iron Fortress Territory."
"Excellent."
"The coordinates?"
The adventurers pointed frantically toward the East. Ignius memorized the direction and then gestured with a claw toward the pouches at their belts.
"Leave the tribute. Get out."
The adventurers scrambled to comply, unbuckling every coin purse and dumping their valuables in a heap on the dirt. Ignius gave an impatient flick of his tail, swatting aside the boulders blocking the entrance.
As the humans fled down the mountain in a cloud of dust and terror, Ignius didn't even bother to watch. He looked down at the small pile of gold and silver, snorting a plume of smoke.
"Better than nothing, I suppose."
Ignius stood up and walked to the precipice, gazing toward the East.
Iron Fortress.
The hoard must be vast. And it isn't a national capital yet.
The next heartbeat, Ignius unfurled his massive wings and tore into the sky.
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