At this moment, Sindaiseth was stealthily moving through the deepest part of the Well of Stars.
Compared to the lavishness and prosperity of other areas of the Pale Tower, the dungeon was incredibly dim, with only a few spell lamps emitting faint light.
The air was stagnant, filled with the pungent smell of decay, weathering, and charring, cold, oppressive, and suffocating.
He moved silently, even though the ground beneath his feet had long been eroded by time, becoming uneven.
Above the Well of Stars, alarms blared.
Guards and mages were reassigned, various defensive magic arrays were activated, and everyone's attention was focused on the major incident of the 'Council Leader's Assassination.'
This was precisely the opportunity he had been waiting for.
"Third level, at the very end of the west corridor," he recalled the intelligence he had gathered earlier.
He silently passed through one cell after another, quickly reaching his destination.
The scene before him was completely different from the other cells.
There were no iron bars, only a thick iron door, separating a circular room.
Sindaiseth narrowed his eyes, instantly understanding the reason for this difference—this was both a cell and a magical laboratory.
Only prisoners with special "research value" would be placed here.
There was no keyhole or similar device on the iron door, but this did not stump the Scale Leader of the Dark Claw Camp.
He quickly analyzed the magical principles of the door, his fingers precisely tapping an inconspicuous brick on the right side of the iron door.
"Creak—"
With a muffled sound, the iron door slid open a crack inwards.
However, Sindaiseth did not rush into the cell.
Because the interior of the door, though seemingly unguarded, was actually riddled with magical traps; failing to follow a specific procedure would immediately trigger an alarm.
He cautiously followed the preset disarming procedure, pushing and pulling the iron door several times, and only after confirming it was safe did he fully open it.
Inside the cell, a mixed scent of potions and rust assailed him.
He looked towards the center of the cell, where Valarath, the Dracthyr who had disappeared during the "Mana Heist," lay.
His limbs and shoulder blades were pierced by chains, pinning him firmly to the cold stone bed, the ends of these chains deeply embedded in the wall.
Large patches of his scales had peeled off, revealing festering, pus-filled flesh underneath.
His once powerful Dracthyr wings were cruelly broken, twisted and hanging behind him, the wing membranes tattered beyond recognition.
His head hung low, one eye reduced to an empty, charred socket, the other barely open a slit, cloudy and lifeless.
The Dracthyr had endured thanks to his powerful life force, but he was barely alive.
The sound of the iron door opening seemed to startle the tormented prisoner.
Valarath moved with extreme difficulty, and a flicker of light seemed to pass through his remaining eye.
There was no time for hesitation, nor for self-reproach or anger.
Sindaiseth flashed inside, silently closing the iron door behind him, cutting off the outside world.
He quickly came to the stone platform and began to cut the chains binding Valarath with his dagger.
The chains were exceptionally strong, but absolutely no match for equipment personally forged by Neltharion.
Valarath's body twitched slightly with each cut, a suppressed whimper escaping his throat.
Soon, the last chain was severed.
Valarath's body lost its restraints and almost slid off the stone platform.
Sindaiseth was prepared and quickly supported him.
Then, he took out several scrolls that Nefarian had previously given him through Liriel, with labels such as "Injured," "Severely Injured," and "Deceased."
Sindaiseth still remembered the Black Dragon Commander's original words, "These are from my mentor; he said you would need them."
Without any hesitation, he pulled out a scroll labeled "Severely Injured" and unfurled it towards Valarath. The moment the scroll opened, the Dragon God's divine power poured out, transforming into a tangible liquid that completely enveloped Valarath!
Seventh-tier divine spell, [Regeneration!]
Starting from the penetrating wounds, the decaying flesh was invisibly wiped away, and tender new flesh rapidly grew and filled the broken, pierced bones, which also grew and mended.
In less than half a minute, the holes once occupied by chains were quickly filled with new flesh and bone, leaving only faint traces of "new growth."
Underneath the peeled scales, the previously festering, pus-filled flesh also regenerated during this process.
Immediately after, tiny, tough scales sprouted like mushrooms after rain, covering this new flesh.
Then came the noble additional effect of Regeneration—limb regrowth.
Those twisted, broken Dracthyr wings were forcibly reconnected, grown, and strengthened amidst the grating sounds of friction and reshaping!
The tattered wing membranes were smoothed by an invisible pair of hands, and new wing membrane tissue rapidly spread from the edges of the wing bones, quickly becoming complete and smooth.
Most astonishing was the regeneration of the eyeball.
Golden light converged in the sunken socket, the optic nerve and muscle tissue rapidly reconstructed, and then a brand new eyeball condensed and gradually formed in the light!
It was initially somewhat cloudy, but after Valarath blinked a few times, it became clear and sharp.
The pupil contracted into a cold vertical slit, and together with the other eye, which had also regained clarity in the divine light, it shot out a fierce glare!
In just five short minutes, under the effect of Regeneration, Valarath's originally faint breath, like a flickering candle in the wind, rapidly became strong and incredibly fervent!
The golden light slowly receded and dissipated.
Valarath suddenly stood up!
He was no longer the prisoner pinned to the stone platform, barely clinging to life.
"—Scale Leader," he said, looking at Sindaiseth beside him, moving his regenerated body, "How long—have I been trapped?"
Sindaiseth looked at his companion, restored to his former self, a slight curve on his lips, "Long enough. It's time to rejoin the ranks."
"Yes, Scale Leader!" Valarath gave a Dracthyr military salute.
"Follow me, it's very lively outside now, a good time to leave," Sindaiseth patted Valarath's shoulder, "Once you're safe, it'll be almost time for reckoning."
Valarath bared his teeth, revealing his stark white fangs, "Understood, Scale Leader!"
—Divider—After escorting Valarath out of the Noble District, Sindaiseth did not linger, quietly turning back.
He stealthily approached the council hall commonly used by the Mage Council, concealing himself and waiting for the opportune moment.
If his calculations were correct—sure enough, not long after, the doors of the council room opened, and five high-ranking mages, cloaked and with grave expressions, filed out.
Sindaiseth recognized one of the figures—the fire mage who had once threatened him and his teammates.
Although the sound of their conversation was suppressed by a barrier, Sindaiseth could still deduce the result from their subtle expressions and the rhythm of their footsteps: they had not yet made a decision regarding Liriel.
He narrowed his eyes, turned, and leaped to another corridor, quietly trailing a young messenger.
The man's steps were hurried, and he clutched a scroll tube emblazoned with the council's insignia, clearly intending to deliver the meeting's conclusions to the executive department.
Good. Target confirmed.
As they passed through a dimly lit corridor, Sindaiseth made his move—he flashed behind the messenger like a ghost, one hand precisely covering the messenger's mouth.
His other hand tightly gripped the messenger's neck, dragging him into the shadows.
With a slight squeeze of both hands, he twisted the messenger's neck, the action clean and swift, taking only a few seconds.
The messenger's body slumped to the ground, and Sindaiseth quickly retrieved the scroll tube from his embrace.
As he had expected, the scroll tube was enchanted with an anti-tampering spell, designed to ensure that the order would not be intercepted by others before being opened by the recipient.
But this did not deter an agent personally trained by Neltharion.
He lightly dispelled the anti-tampering spell, then took out the entire document, recopying it—the handwriting was identical, even the weight of the pen strokes in the turns was precisely replicated.
Then, he resealed it with the same anti-tampering spell.
Original text: "Confine the target and await the Council Leader's awakening before making a decision."
Modified text: "At 8 AM tomorrow, at the intersection of the south side of the Noble District and the Commoner District, execute a fire execution to quell the source of chaos."
Subsequently, he transformed into the messenger's appearance, donned the messenger's outer robe, and silently walked towards the executive department of the original order.
Tomorrow morning, a long-planned "public trial" would unfold as scheduled.
And the entire Sendarra would welcome the dawn of a new era in the midst of fire.
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