https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-593-Scavenging-and-Group-Teleportation/13677396/
Chapter 594: Dragon and Hell
“Zaril? The power of Hell already meddling this early… My butterfly effect truly did stir things up,” Kai Xiusu murmured, exhaling a sulfurous breath as he held the parchment contract delivered by the Players. He stood atop the Rock Palace at Dragonblood Mountain, his crimson eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
Even in his past life, Kai Xiusu had heard of Zaril—Fallen Seraph, General of the Eternal Blood War, Duke of Demons in the First Layer of the Nine Hells. Centuries ago, she had dragged an entire city into Hell. Though that city was eventually liberated, the trauma left an indelible mark, scattering Tieflings across the world to this day.
Lanpu, half-kneeling beside him, tapped his staff, projecting a series of magical images gathered by the Players. Among them, to no one’s surprise, was a clip of Charlotte seducing Baron Donald—likely deemed “critical intelligence” by some Player.
The Ogre continued reporting: “Master, our intelligence indicates that since the death of Aragon I, the Devils have been active across the Prime Material Plane. Their traces now span Feanso, especially rampant in the Thrace Kingdom. Though the kingdom tries to conceal it, their footprints are too numerous to ignore—commercial ventures linked to Claudew Military Industry Group, Stellarfallen communities numbering in the tens of thousands under Empire control, all bearing signs of infernal influence. We have strong reason to believe Hell now stands behind Thrace, their new patron.”
Kai Xiusu cracked a grin, a flicker of molten flame dancing at the corner of his lips. “Ah… the so-called ‘Divine Offspring,’ those arrogant, self-proclaimed supremacists—now consorting with the very embodiment of cunning, filth, and evil: the Devils. How utterly fascinating.”
He chuckled. “But not surprising. Humans are always eager to latch onto power, no matter the source. Only such creatures can be fully molded into instruments of the Empire.”
Lanpu bowed low. “Master’s insight is unparalleled.”
The Ogre hesitated, then raised his staff once more. Visions unfolded before Kai Xiusu—Devils disguised as humans, slithering through the world with deceptive grace.
“Additionally, Master, we’ve detected traces of Devils within Empire territory. We’re monitoring them closely, but haven’t acted yet. We await your command. Should we adopt the same hostile policy we used against the Abyss? Launch a full-scale campaign to brand Hell as the Empire’s eternal enemy? And then, with the full might of our internal forces, eradicate every Devil in one sweeping purge?”
Lanpu’s voice was sharp, merciless—like a blade drawn.
To mortals, Devils were nightmares incarnate. But to the Ogre Prime Minister of the Empire, they were nothing more than pests—vermin to be crushed beneath the heel of imperial order.
Kai Xiusu paused, reflecting. Then he shook his head, whispering, “No. Compared to the madmen of the Deep Abyss, these Devils still hold utilitarian value. Perhaps we can… collaborate with them.”
The Red Dragon let out a sudden, dry laugh. “If Deep Abyss Demons are rabid bandits who only plunder and destroy, then Devils are… rather like the greedy factory owners and corporate magnates within our own borders.”
He smirked. “They’re like vicious dogs—once you grip them by the red-hot iron chain, you can still make them bite your enemies.”
Lanpu frowned. “But Master, such collaboration risks destabilizing our order. And they’re openly backing Thrace—our southern campaign could be compromised.”
Kai Xiusu remained calm. “Who said anything about collaborating within the Empire? Lanpu, summon Meizhuolashi and The Lich Aorest.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Without further questions, Lanpu raised his scepter and executed the order with solemn precision.
The Emperor of the Ashen Flame was always decisive—his commands felt preordained, never wrong, just as he had never faltered on the battlefield.
Moments later, a portal tore open at Kai Xiusu’s will, spewing sulfur and gunpowder smoke. From it stepped Meizhuolashi, the Tiefling leader, clad in imperial noble attire, half-kneeling before the Dragon King. His Duke’s medallion gleamed brightly over his chest.
Then, from the shadows, a thick, necrotic mist surged forth—dark green, reeking of decay. The Lich Aorest emerged, his skeletal form trembling slightly as he beheld Kai Xiusu’s towering dragon form. For a moment, he stood frozen.
Fifty meters long. A dragon of such scale would shake the soul of any scholar. Even Aorest, once feared across realms, felt the weight of awe.
With a voice like grinding bones, he bowed low. “Master… your loyal servant has come at your call. I offer my deepest reverence.”
The once-terrifying Lich now seemed weary, worn down by relentless Player visits—his name a pilgrimage site on every forum, a constant drain on his soul. Countless Players risked their life force just to touch him.
Kai Xiusu gave a slight nod. Turning to the Tiefling, he smiled. “Meizhuolashi. Your kin have emerged into the Prime Material Plane. How do you feel?”
Meizhuolashi’s brow furrowed. “Your Majesty, the Tiefling race has never wavered in loyalty. We serve only the Empire of Ashen Flame—its safety, its stability. As for the Devils? Forgive my candor, but they left us with centuries of blood debt, unclean sins. With your command, we would gladly declare them enemies without hesitation.”
His voice was steel. Unwavering. Filled with unmasked venom.
He cared only for his people, for the Empire’s future. The Devils—those who had torn his home apart—were not just enemies. They were ghosts he still carried.
“Good,” Kai Xiusu said, nodding. “Assemble your Imperial Guard units. Seize every Demon within the Empire’s borders.”
Meizhuolashi blinked. “Your Majesty… should we not destroy them?”
Beside him, the Lich let out a low, mocking chuckle. His soul-fire flickered. “Lord Duke… as a descendant of Hell, you should know this: Devils cannot be killed outside Hell. They can only be stripped of everything—most often, their spiritual soul. For these stingy, petty lords, that punishment may be worse than death.”
Meizhuolashi bowed to the Red Dragon. “Your Majesty, I will use the strength you grant me to subdue them all.”
“Excellent,” Kai Xiusu said. “I expect results. Since they hail from Baator Hell, you shall imprison your kin—the uninvited guests—within Bathor City.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Kai Xiusu turned his head, his golden vertical pupils locking onto Aorest.
Though the Lich looked exhausted, the flame within his soul had grown—restored to perhaps sixty or seventy percent of its former strength. He took quiet pride in that.
But he did not know that nearly ninety percent of the energy he gained from transforming the undead had already slipped into Kai Xiusu’s grasp. And the Dragon King was already considering raising the cut to ninety-five percent—better control, more XP extraction.
The Red Dragon narrowed his eyes. “Orestes. I was right. You do know the Nine Hells.”
Acrest’s hollow sockets flared with sudden joy. “Master… during my mortal days, I sought every path to immortality. I studied the pacts with Hell. But—” His voice faltered. The flickering fire in his eyes dimmed, edged with revulsion. “Those Devils… they’re all liars. Monsters. Their pacts are traps. Three centuries ago, I was deceived by a Great Demon—nearly lost my soul.”
Kai Xiusu wasn’t interested in the past. He unrolled a scroll and placed it before the Lich.
“Orestes. Examine this pact.”
Acrest studied it. His entire being froze.
“Zaril? That madwoman… she’s already reaching into the Prime Material Plane?”
He swallowed hard. “She’s the Duke of Demons in Avernus—the First Layer of Hell. A Fallen Seraph, cast down ten thousand years ago. Unhinged. A war maniac. Her bloodlust knows no bounds.”
Kai Xiusu continued. “Our spies found this in the South. We suspect Hell may be backing Thrace—threatening our grand campaign of conquest.”
The Red Dragon loomed over him, his voice a whisper. “Orestes. What do you think?”
Acrest opened his jaw—empty of flesh, yet still managed a ghastly grin.
“Master… even though Hell is Lawful in structure, it is far from united. The Nine Hells are a storm of ambition, conspiracy, and eternal strife. The Lords of Hell are locked in endless war for supremacy.”
He raised a bony finger. A vision bloomed in the air—a demonic army tearing each other apart in endless slaughter.
“The Devils are born with insatiable hunger. They betray, deceive, and fight among themselves. And Zaril… she’s a madwoman obsessed with the Blood War. There are countless Great Demons who hate her.”
Kai Xiusu nodded slowly. “So… we could find a rival within Hell—someone to oppose her?”
Acrest bowed deeply, voice dripping with reverence. “Master… your wisdom astounds me.”
“Recommend a suitable ally. I will speak with him myself.”
Acrest hesitated. His soul-fire flickered. He wanted to speak—but something held him back.
Because the first name that came to mind… was the very Demon who had nearly enslaved his soul.
Kai Xiusu stared at him, puzzled. “Well?”
Acrest stammered, “Of course, my esteemed Master… please, look here—”
He raised his bone scepter. Necromantic fog swirled, forming a lifelike image.
Kai Xiusu’s gaze fell upon the vision.
A colossal Devil. Crimson scales armored his body. Massive bat-like wings stretched wide. Green poison dripped from his maw, sizzling as it struck the ground. But the most chilling detail? A belt wrapped around his waist—twelve angelic heads, each screaming in agony, hung from it.
The heads had been severed by a flaming greatsword gripped in his clawed hand. And the face beneath—deep red, twisted in a frenzied, endless laugh.
The archetype of a Great Demon. The nightmare of mortal imagination made real.
Acrest spoke. “This is Bair. Former Lord of Avernus. A cruel warlord. Centuries ago, he betrayed Zaril and ascended to lordship. But he failed in the Battlefield of Blood. The Lord of the Nine Hells demoted him—restored Zaril to power.”
He shrugged. “To keep him busy, Zaril forced him to forge weapons, armor, and terrifying killing machines. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is… he hates Zaril. With every fiber of his being.”
Kai Xiusu studied the image, his expression thoughtful. “Bair… hmm. Sounds promising.”
Acrest, remembering his own suffering, warned softly, “Though I trust your wisdom, Master… Devils are treacherous. Be careful.”
Kai Xiusu smiled. “Ah, in the face of absolute power, all conspiracies crumble. A Fallen Hell Lord? Even if he signs a pact, the dominant hand will always be mine.”
His voice carried unshakable confidence. His assessment of himself was clear: in the Material Plane, few beings could stop him—unless the gods themselves intervened.
His only weakness? Depth. Experience. He was still no match for the ancient entities who had lived for millennia.
But alliances with Devils—risky, yes—could fill those gaps.
The Red Dragon slowly rose, his massive head tilting toward the horizon. He spread his vast wings, the wind howling around him.
“If Thrace calls upon Hell… then we shall use the power of Demons to counter Demons. And perhaps… begin a collaboration with Hell’s true rulers.”
At the sight of Kai Xiusu rising, his three followers spoke in unison:
“Your Majesty… Master… wise beyond measure!”
(End of Chapter)
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