Hati lay curled in Thane’s arms. The boy had likely gone through an exhausting day. The red moonlight gradually faded. As he left the mountain peak, he saw countless wolves scattering in all directions. Powerful reverberations and mad roars echoed from the hilltop, telling him that a horrific battle was taking place up there.

  Thane crossed the Howl Plains and returned to the BloodClaw stronghold. Ramos was already waiting from afar at the fortress gate. When he saw that the boy was safe, he felt genuine relief. Ramos wore red iron armor, carried an axe, and rode atop his black wolf. Around him stood veteran wolf riders, each radiating dense killing intent. They were lined up in a solemn and orderly formation, as if preparing for a grand ritual rather than an assault.

  “Vargan is dead,” Ulmar said as she appeared from nowhere.

  The priestesses could partially understand the meaning of wolf howls even though they were not proficient in the Wolf Tongue. She wore a black wolf fur cloak, her neck hung with strings made from fangs and claws, and her face was covered in strange red symbols. Her expression was sorrowful. Having been born and raised with the stories of Vargan, its death felt as though it signaled that her own end was approaching as well.

  “The wolves told Ulmar. Vargan may be dead, but its legend will live on forever in the hearts of every child of BloodClaw. After this memorial ceremony, its statue will be carved as the largest and placed at the very center of this fortress as an act of tribute.”

  Ramos smiled as he spoke. Vargan had lived for far too long. The age of chaos had ended. The Dark God was dead, and the old gods had fallen silent. Perhaps it was time for it to rest and be freed. Perhaps this was the best possible ending.

  Thane nodded and carried Hati inside to rest. Almost no one paid attention to the small wolf lying in Thane’s arms. They did not believe that a boy without mana could tame a powerful wolf. They overlooked Hati because of its size, but the wolves did not. Their gazes converged on the small wolf. The pressure of bloodline dominance told them that this wolf carried a lineage far more noble than theirs many times over.

  The wolves suddenly howled in joy. Their behavior left the knights, including Ramos, stunned. Only Ulmar seemed to understand something. Her eyes glowed as she followed Thane’s retreating figure. Perhaps she would live long enough to witness the birth of another legend.

  The mournful howls of the wolves echoed far away and spread across the entire region surrounding BloodClaw. Within the largest volcano of the Infernic range, a massive three headed Cerberus opened its eyes. All three heads exhaled and swallowed terrifying flames.

  “Has Vargan died?”

  The Cerberus roared in exhilaration, its blazing eyes fixed intently on the distant direction of the BloodClaw territory.

  Under the concealment of Ret and Not, Mulock’s expedition team gradually crossed the Plain of Bones. No creature could sense their existence. Not even Baham, the lord of this land, was able to detect them.

  Although the authority of Lumbrinae was weaker compared to other gods, he was still a god. No mortal could see through the abilities of a pair of Bina.

  After many days of silent travel, they finally caught sight of the pitch black shoreline of Fallen Island. Beside it lay a decaying swamp, a place filled with countless shipwrecks and innumerable grotesque and repulsive creatures.

  “The Plain of Bones is at least much cleaner than this place,” Ret said, pointing at a small Ratta nearby. Its body was covered in writhing parasites, sores, and a stench far worse than its kin inland. It gnawed on soft flesh from the decomposing corpse of some unknown beast. Though diseased, it looked far fatter than others of its kind, and naturally it was soon snatched away by an equally bloated Batta.

  “The Battas here also fly lower and move much more slowly. Perhaps the excess of food has weakened their combat capabilities,” Shelley assessed quietly.

  Mulock frowned as he looked at tens of thousands of shipwrecks scattered along the shore. He extinguished his last hope for a safe expedition. He took out the positioning stone Jacor had given him, pondered for a long moment, then activated it. A faint beam of light shot out from the stone and pointed into the distance, guiding them toward Fogger’s transport ship.

  Activating the stone naturally required mana. Mulock knew this was extremely risky, but he had no other choice. He could not afford to waste time searching through tens of thousands of wrecks.

  The moment Mulock activated the stone was also the moment Baham detected it. The mana fluctuation was small, yet far too obvious in this place. The lord knew that someone had intruded into his domain from outside. Baham was furious. The skeleton straightened his body, seized his massive sword, and muttered,

  “Awaken, my servants.”

  Screams echoed across the Plain of Bones. Countless skeletons rose up. Yet the strongest among them was a three headed Cerberus skeleton. The massive Undead Cerberus was wreathed in cold blue flames. It roared in exhilaration. It had been a long time since its master had summoned it for a hunt.

  “Find them.”

  Mulock followed the beam of light, which led him to the location of a massive shattered ship wedged between towering rock crevices. The ship bore the lion emblem representing Hesmor, along with Fogger’s family crest. There was no mistaking it. This was certainly the vessel that had transported the stone.

  They hurried inside. From the moment Mulock used mana, they all knew their time was limited. Under the focused gaze of an Emperor, even the power of Bina would be exposed beneath the coverage of a Domain.

  The abandoned ship’s hold was immersed in a heavy and decayed atmosphere. The narrow space was enclosed by dark, warped planks, their surfaces mottled with dried salt stains and blue gray mold. The smell of damp rot and rotten wood lingered thickly in the air.

  “We do not have much time. Spread out and search for wooden chests. It has to be somewhere in here.”

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  They dispersed and searched everywhere. Time passed, yet all they found were cracked, empty wooden chests, containing nothing but scraps of rotted cloth and cobwebs.

  “Damn it. Impossible. It has to be in here somewhere,” Mulock snarled in anger.

  The pirate searched in vain. Even after turning the entire ship upside down, he could not find the stone. With no other choice, Mulock was forced to have Rowling bring them back to their ship before Baham could catch up.

  Rowling chuckled softly. She summoned her serpent staff and murmured an incantation, but then frowned.

  “Fallen Island is covered by a powerful formation. It is not easy to use teleportation here as it is outside. I need to set up another formation to temporarily weaken it before we can escape.”

  “How long will it take,” Mulock asked.

  “One day.”

  Mulock let out a long sigh. A battle was unavoidable. He glanced at the entire group of new companions he had just recruited. He hoped they would not all die like the previous ones. If he managed to return alive this time, he swore that Jacor would pay a heavy price for this disastrous intelligence error.

  During this period, the Felicitas Palace, as usual, received a great number of distinguished guests arriving from all directions. They came not only to witness Hesmor’s unprecedented consort selection event, but also in the hope that by some miracle they might catch Aster’s favor.

  Beautiful young women, lavishly dressed and drenched in fragrant perfume, filled the plaza. They fluttered about like butterflies and bees, eager to charm the young emperor.

  Facing them, Aster remained calm and maintained the proper bearing of a king. Ordinary beauty could not shake his iron will. Aster desired only one thing: strength, absolute power to dominate all of Hesmor.

  His gaze suddenly paused on a noble and elegant woman. She wore a neat, concise dress, with carefully curved lashes and deep red lips. Although the air around her was chillingly cold, her skin pale and almost bloodless, men could not easily ignore her. She was different, aloof and dignified. The mystery radiating from her captivated countless onlookers.

  She slowly approached Aster, smiled, and gently extended her hand to invite him to a dance.

  “What do you think of this outfit of mine?” the woman asked softly, her steps still graceful and fluid.

  “An exceedingly splendid ensemble, my lady. It suits you very well,” Aster replied courteously.

  “Of course. It is carefully selected. Though it is not as beautiful as I was when alive, it will suffice.”

  Naturally, they were not talking about clothing. This woman was none other than Valen. After seizing part of Lady Lust’s body, she immediately returned to take part in the selection. However, things were not as simple as she had expected. Aster’s appeal was far greater than anticipated. There were formidable competitors among the candidates, not easily defeated. Moreover, she could not wield her full power through a temporary vessel.

  “I did not expect your consort selection to draw out so many big fish.”

  “Of course. Although I am nothing special, the vast territory of Hesmor is truly a tempting prize. Are you confident?” Aster asked.

  “I do not know. But there is no need to worry.”

  Valen remained composed, her eyes subtly observing a bearded old man seated in the distance. Though he restrained his power, he could not escape her perception. This old man was on the same level as her, an Emperor.

  Far away, Melin Spellspeaker frowned slightly. He felt as though a venomous serpent were staring straight at him. He had concealed his power and brought his protégé here to compete, never expecting anyone to recognize him. Perhaps it was another old man coveting Hesmor’s domain.

  He searched his memories. If he were within the Mage Association, he would not hesitate to spread his Will to investigate. But in this region, it was wiser to remain cautious. Melin sighed and chose to ignore the chill creeping down his spine.

  “Who could it be?”

  While the dance banquet at Felicitas was lively and bustling, inside Jacor’s office, stacks of dossiers detailing the candidates were piled high upon his desk. Normally, he would never personally handle such trivial matters, but this was a special event. He wanted absolute control, ensuring that every participant’s identity was clear and properly sourced.

  “Hmm, Valensia? Originating from MoonLight Town. A person of Greaton?”

  He stared at the file of the mysterious beauty, sensing something amiss. Everything about her was difficult to verify. Her relatives had perished in a snowstorm, and she herself lived alone at IceMount.

  “Guards!”

  A young soldier hurried into Jacor’s office. His eyes seemed dull, but Jacor paid it no mind.

  “Transfer this candidate’s file to Ceasar. Tell him to investigate it for me.”

  “Yes, sir.” The soldier quickly took the documents and left the room. As he turned away, a truly eerie smile appeared on his face.

  After dancing with Aster, Valen simply sat and enjoyed her wine. She poured herself a glass of deep red Meli while gazing at the moonlight beyond the window. Suddenly, a mysterious smile spread across her face.

  “Jacor, you damned old man. You should have changed locations the last time we met.”

  Jacor would likely never imagine that the girl he intended to investigate already held the location of his secret base firmly in the palm of her hand.

  “Is it done yet?” Mulock roared.

  He had transformed into a black wolf, crushing the skull of a charging skeleton in his jaws before whipping his tail to fling another away. But their numbers were overwhelming, impossible to count. His body was crisscrossed with wounds left by bladed weapons. These skeletons were not ordinary. They had been summoned by Baham’s Domain, and because of that their destructive power was terrifying. Even the thick hide and dense flesh of the wolf Mulock had become could not withstand them. He could sense the energy they wielded. It was identical to what he had once encountered at Richer.

  “Damn it! If you do not hurry, we will all die here!” Mulock shouted again, urging Rowling. In the distance, he could already see Baham’s massive body slowly approaching.

  They were completely surrounded now by countless ferocious skeletons. Yet the most troublesome of all was the Cerebus. Its maw exhaled freezing breath that sealed the ground in ice. It felt no pain as it lunged forward in a mad frenzy, tearing and biting. Even when its body was shattered, it could regenerate by fusing together the bones of other skeletons.

  “Baham’s Domain has already covered us. No matter how many times we kill them, they will rise again. We must restrain them!” Shelley shouted.

  She and her Shadow worked in perfect coordination. Frank was the only one capable of resisting the Cerebus’s breath, because it possessed no soul. He hurled his massive body forward once more, smashing apart the creature’s skeletal frame and flinging it far away.

  Naturally, the scattered bones gathered again, reassembling into its body. The Cerebus rose once more and roared. It glared at Frank with burning hatred, wishing nothing more than to tear him into a hundred pieces. But Frank’s body was too hard, immune to all of its attacks. Even the freezing breath it took such pride in was completely ineffective.

  “One more hour! Just hold on for one more hour!” Rowling shouted, drenched in sweat. Beneath her feet lay a special magic circle, its inscriptions writhing like coiling serpents. Nightmare energy was far too dense in this place. She needed more time.

  Tris darted across the battlefield like a small leopard. Wherever she passed, skeletons shattered into fragments. The others fought desperately as well. Though overwhelmed by sheer numbers, they were fortunate that these skeletons were not individually too powerful.

  However, at that very moment, a massive shadow appeared and enveloped them all. A gigantic skeleton, towering like a god with its enormous sword, stood before them. It was Baham, the lord of the Bone Plains. He looked down on Mulock’s group with utter disdain, showing a hint of interest only when his gaze fell upon Rowling. He clasped his hands together and spoke in a deep, mocking voice.

  “What is this? A bunch of brats without even a single Emperor, daring to trespass into my domain.”

  Baham laughed loudly. He had no interest in prolonging the matter. His bone sword flashed with a dim, sinister light. It seemed he intended to annihilate them all in a single strike.

  “How brave. How foolish. In that case, all of you shall stay here and become part of Fallen Island.”