Chapter 258: Demon Traces
Award Ceremony was over. Kai Xiusu didn’t hide the news—he made a grand spectacle of it, deliberately ensuring everyone knew. Paper flyers fluttered like snowflakes, carried by Wyverns across every corner of Anzeta.
People reacted in wildly different ways. In the Northern Regions, Nobles trembled with fear, dreading that this newly awakened Red Dragon might unleash a catastrophe capable of toppling their authority. They also feared the unthinkable system would birth a terrifying War Machine.
Yet among the common folk, a different fire stirred. Many dreamed of escaping the Kingdom of Ashen, seeking power, and chasing the legendary longevity and strength said to be granted by dragons.
But whatever the reaction, Kai Xiusu had achieved his goal.
He didn’t care if this drew premature preparations from the Northern Kingdoms. What mattered was planting the seed in people’s minds—the spark that would accelerate the formation of a new order after the war ended.
Kai Xiusu lay sprawled across the Iron Throne, wings slightly unfurled. From the porous organs along his neck, two plumes of white smoke exhaled. The Dragon Crystal on his chest, still glowing fiercely moments ago, cooled rapidly, its light dimming.
“Three years… already three years have passed.”
“Just one more year. The Great Collapse of the Holy Phaldran Empire will come. The five hundred thousand Public Test Players will descend upon Anzeta.”
“By then, I will forge a new order in the Anzeta Great Wasteland, unifying the entire Northern Regions.”
He stared into the distance, murmuring to himself.
In the Anstica Mountains…
Alje rode atop a Dragonvein Eagle, bursting through a Portal at breakneck speed. Another routine patrol mission—over the past three years, he’d flown these skies countless times, memorizing every ridge and valley.
Yet the Anstica Mountains were far vaster than he’d imagined. Even after years of relentless exploration, vast regions remained untouched, waiting to be discovered.
From the saddlebag slung across the Giant Eagle’s side, Alje pulled out a Parchment Scroll. Its ends were inlaid with the Inferno Emblem. When unfurled, it revealed a map made of shimmering magical particles—mountains, rivers, and valleys stood out in vivid detail, each pulsing with faint auras. A single glowing dot marked Alje’s current position.
This was a special map prepared by the Kingdom, designed to record every area Alje had explored. It was already half-filled.
In truth, this was only a trial version. The Kingdom would soon release official editions—more advanced, even gem-embedded collectible versions—sold at premium prices to players. That, however, was a tale for another time.
“Zone 327. No demonic traces discovered.”
Alje tapped the region. A line automatically appeared, marking it complete. He’d already charted hundreds of zones.
“Next—Zone 328. Igler.”
He patted the Giant Eagle’s neck. The beast instantly understood, tucking its wings and shooting forward with blinding speed through the jagged peaks.
After his second Bloodline Gift, Alje had felt his strength—and that of his mount—rise dramatically. The Eagle’s beak had sprouted jagged fangs, its form shifting from avian to something more draconic, its head now resembling that of a young dragon. Alje himself could now exhale a searing breath of fire.
In moments, the Giant Eagle cleared several mountain ridges and reached the marked area—Zone 328.
The distant peaks rose like uneven, broken teeth of a dragon, heaving and crumbling.
Barren. Desolate.
That was Alje’s only impression of the Anstica Mountains.
Some peaks soared over five thousand meters, cutting off the Anzeta Great Wasteland from the south and blocking the icy winds from the north. The endless ranges were buried under thick, permanent snow, only revealing dark rock during brief summer thaws.
No one dared cross these mountains. Not even migratory birds would fly through them. Even the mightiest warriors relied on narrow mountain passes to enter.
Without the Dragon Vein Blessing, Alje would never have dared venture into this lifeless wilderness.
“Huff—”
The wind howled, biting cold, forcing Alje to sneeze—a sharp, sulfurous burst.
But his sharp, red-keratin ears twitched.
He crouched slightly, voice low.
“Igler… did you hear that?”
“It’s not just the wind. There’s something else.”
Yes. It wasn’t just wind. Beneath the gale, layered in the distance, were mournful wails, heavy whispers.
At last—the call of the demons.
But it could be something else. Over the years, Alje had already slain countless monsters lurking in the deep valleys—Wolfmen in remote crags, Giant Malevolent Snowmen slumbering in ice caverns, even ancient polar dragon beasts buried beneath the snow.
He said nothing more. With keen ears, he tracked the source of the sound, guiding the Giant Eagle purely by instinct.
His “Seeking Demons” scroll flared faintly in his hand—pulsing with a deep crimson glow.
Maybe… he’d really found it.
Alje tightened his legs, urging the Giant Eagle into a steep dive.
Sure enough—shadows emerged in the distance. He gave chase.
Only when they drew closer, tens of meters away, could he make them out.
The creatures were grotesque hybrids—part vulture, part humanoid—twisted beast bodies, wings so broad they reeked of decay, constantly emitting a foul stench. Their mouths opened wide, shrieking in high-pitched, woman-like wails.
Alje’s expression hardened. His brow furrowed.
“Frothmaw.”
From the royal archives, he knew the basics of demonic races. These vulture-like horrors fed on humanoids, often using deafening screams to paralyze their prey.
The Giant Eagle remained high above. The Frothmaw, seemingly in a hurry, hadn’t yet sensed them.
“Stay close.”
Alje gave the silent command.
The Eagle maintained a steady pace, trailing far above, unseen.
Eventually, the creatures vanished into a cavern so vast it seemed to swallow the sky.
As snowflakes like dust swirled around them, the Dragonvein Eagle landed at the mouth of the dark cave. Even with the wind screaming, Alje could still hear the whispers from within—the mournful wails, the endless murmurs.
“This is it.”
Alje drew his Everburning Greatsword from his back, gripping it tightly. The blade ignited with flame, casting a flickering light that illuminated the path ahead.
The demons carried the corruption of the Bottomless Abyss. Just their presence warped the world. The cave floor was pockmarked with craters, oozing black pus, and the air reeked of an odor that never faded.
The scroll in his hand burned brighter, blood-red and wild.
Yet Alje felt no joy. He knew too well the horror these creatures represented. One misstep, and he’d be dead—his body consumed, his soul lost.
Even the Giant Eagle trembled, its body recoiling in silent dread.
(End of Chapter)
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