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Casalos then distanced himself again, watching Cyric from afar.
“Cirik, you seem to have forgotten that the last time you ran away with your tail between your legs…”
Cyric struggled to stabilize its form, its eyes burning with resentment and hatred: "Iron Dragon, this is not the end! I will return, with even greater power! The true ruler of death will never abandon its servants!"
After saying that, its body completely turned into a wisp of black smoke and dissipated into the sky—this wasn't the result of the Blazing Slash; this guy had been tricked again. As a dimensional dragon, Cyric could freely travel back to its own dimension, and when it chose to retreat, Casalos couldn't stop it.
But... does returning to the underworld allow me to escape the blazing flames?
Silently waiting for the flames to suddenly increase by several layers, Casalos slowly descended, hovering above the Misty Forest to recover his severely depleted stamina and dragon magic. Below him, the battle in the Misty Forest had resumed at some point, the roars of the Flame Fist Mercenary Group and the howls of the half-dragon kobolds intertwined, with flashes of light from explosions illuminating the sky from time to time.
94. An unkillable thing
The River Styx's waters flow swiftly yet are viscous, gleaming with an oily sheen, as if countless wronged souls are intertwined.
Chapter 355
Entangled, it cannot reflect the true form of any object.
Cyric immersed himself completely in the waters of the soul, hoping to alleviate the excruciating pain of the relentless burning. The silhouette of the Death Hunter twisted and distorted in the River Styx, no longer resembling a lost dragon, but an indescribable black shadow, only its eyes, burning with eerie blue flames, remained bright. Black mist continuously seeped from his body immersed in the River Styx, mingling with it, only to be pulled back into the dragon's body by some force, forming a bizarre cycle.
"Aaaaah!" Cyric let out a shrill wail, the sound echoing in the void of the underworld, but it did not elicit any response.
The relentless burning pain, the blazing flames that penetrated deep into the dragon's soul, were so intense that even the River Styx could not extinguish them. The waters of the Styx even intensified the flames, making the Death Hunter's agony even more excruciating.
Cyric struggled to climb out of the River Styx, crawling over the pile of bones on its banks to barely support its dragon body. Black Styx water dripped from between its scales, each drop corroding a small pit in the ground.
The surrounding twisted plains remained as gloomy and desolate as ever. In the distance, countless twisted black trees, like tormented souls, swayed in the wind, their branches laden with translucent, illusory fruits bearing indistinct human face outlines, constantly shrieking in the heart, singing a symphony of hatred that tugs at the soul.
The sky is perpetually gray-white, occasionally ripped apart by lightning, but it brings no light, only deepening the darkness.
"Damn Iron Dragon!" Cyric roared, "I'll tear you apart and make your soul suffer for eternity!"
It exhaled a breath of dragon's breath, but it was not the overclocking vibration commonly seen in lost dragons. Instead, it was a pure mass of death energy, like liquid nothingness, which completely erased the skeleton in front of it, leaving not even a trace of the soul.
"How stupid! He has all that strength, yet he didn't even manage to touch that iron dragon, and now he's in this state." A languid female voice suddenly rang in Cyric's mind, the voice containing both sarcasm and a strange kind of pleasure.
"Who!" Cyric whirled around, assuming a fighting stance and surveying his surroundings, but found no living creatures. He unleashed his mental detection, only to detect countless wandering souls drifting aimlessly across the plains, none daring to approach him.
"I... of course I'm your claws!" the voice rang out again, this time with a hint of smugness.
Cyric looked down at his right forepaw, where a rusty claw gauntlet was strangely floating. The grayish-white metal, perfectly matching the underworld environment, was now slowly flowing, as if it were alive. This was the broken artifact sword that Cyric had found from that unfortunate group of adventurers. After coming into contact with its death power, it had merged into his claw.
"You!?" Cyric's eyes widened in surprise, the pain from the flames temporarily suppressed by shock. "You actually have your own consciousness?"
"Otherwise what?" The claw-like weapon let out a contemptuous laugh. "What kind of weapon do you think can be called a 'divine artifact'? A toy made by mortals?"
Cyric fell into deep thought. He had never really considered the true nature of artifacts—in fact, the definition of artifacts among the people of Faerûn was very vague; any item with even a slightly unique effect could be called an artifact.
"I gave you the power to slay gods. With just a touch, just a touch of that iron dragon's scales, you could easily reap its soul... What a pity." The claw sheath's voice was tinged with regret.
Cyric's anger was reignited. He remembered the battle just now, how he had been toyed with by the iron dragon that was much smaller than himself, and how he had been forced to flee back to the underworld in a sorry state.
"What a pity... how hateful! You, a dead thing, dare to mock me!" Cyric roared, his dragon wings vibrating violently, stirring up a gust of cold wind.
“I’m not here to mock you… Don’t you realize you’re about to die? I’m here to save you… the future Lord of Death!” Claws’ voice became sweet and seductive.
Cyric then realized that the scorching flames were not only not lessening, but were actually intensifying. It could feel its life force draining away at an alarming rate, and its dragon soul being eroded bit by bit. If this continued, even with the blessing of the underworld's power, it would not be able to avoid utter destruction.
"Can you help me?" Cyric's voice was tinged with doubt. "What do you want?"
The claws chuckled, then suddenly pulled on Cyric's claws, piercing its own chest cavity. Strangely, the attack caused no damage; the claws merely penetrated as if passing through a phantom, then began laboriously pulling something out.
"Don't doubt, don't resist, you just need to cooperate with me." The claw's voice was urgent. "Use your strength to pull out that fire!"
Cyric instinctively resisted the allure of the mysterious artifact, but the intense pain and the threat of death quickly forced it to give up. It concentrated all its psionic energy and death power to assist the claws in this bizarre ritual.
After a prolonged struggle, with another roar of rage from Cyrek in release of excruciating pain, the claw sheath finally pulled a dim yet brilliant flame from its chest. Just looking at this "flame," Cyrek could feel a terror emanating from the depths of its dragon soul—not the terror of being Cyrek, but the instinct buried deep within the soul of the Lost Dragon!
“What an ancient, what primal, what pure power… What a pity, what a pity that we can’t master it… That’s the real pity…” Claw’s voice rang out again, with a tone that was almost worshipful.
Cyric understood the claw's intention. He raised the ball of power, capable of killing him, high into the air and then hurled it into the River Styx. The moment the ball of light touched the river, it burst into a blinding light, then exploded into a vast expanse of flames, annihilating the waters of the Styx and creating a violent surge.
The Styx let out what sounded like a painful groan, its once calm surface boiling before quickly returning to stillness as if nothing had happened. Cyrek clearly felt that the agony that had been burning its soul had completely vanished.
"Who exactly are you?" Cyric asked warily, staring at the claw sheath. Its intuition told it that this artifact was far from simple; what it had shown was only the tip of the iceberg.
"I am your most loyal weapon, your claws, your scythe for hunting death!" The claw sheath's voice was full of passion, but it did not answer the question that Cyric truly cared about.
"Do you know what the Primordial Flame is?" the claw suddenly asked, before Cyrek could answer, it let out a low chuckle: "I think I asked a stupid question. That's a power older than the gods themselves, how could you possibly know..."
Cyric felt a chill creep up its spine. It had initially thought the blazing flames tormenting it were merely some special ability of the iron dragon, or some powerful magical effect. But now it seemed the situation was far more complex than it had imagined.
"How did that iron dragon master this power?" Cyric asked, his voice tinged with jealousy and longing.
“It doesn’t possess it, it’s only been given the right to use it,” the claw sheath replied. “Just like you’re given the authority to use the power of death, but you don’t truly possess the essence of death—even if that’s what you think.”
Cyric growled, dissatisfied with the vague answer, but it was in no hurry to learn more. What it needed was to regain its strength and to replan how to deal with that damned iron dragon in order to fulfill its mission of revenge and pursuit.
“Since you can help me resist the Primal Flame, then you must have a way to help me defeat that Iron Dragon,” Cyric said, his tone carrying a commanding tone.
The claws chuckled softly: "Of course, my master. But you need more power, a deeper understanding of the nature of death. Whether it's Bane or Milkor..."
Chapter 356
They only borrowed a small portion of death's power. True death is far broader and deeper than they imagined…
Its voice gradually faded into the omnipresent shrieks of the Twisted Plains, echoing only in Cyric's mind.
"What...what exactly do you want me to do?" Cyric spread his wings, and black death energy began to gather around him. "Waterdeep? Perfect, that iron dragon's friend...my friends, are there too. I've missed you all so much..."
Darkness began to engulf Cyric's figure, and the River Styx returned to calm. Only the area on the riverbank that had been burned by the "Primal Flame" was forever changed, becoming a foreign land that did not belong to the Underworld, small yet steadfast.
95. The Underwater Battlefield
The pressure of the seawater is like an invisible giant hand, squeezing out any creature that dares to venture deep into it. In the deepest part of Sword Bay, light can no longer penetrate the thick body of water; only the occasional flashes of electricity on the bodies of the thinkers and tide-singers outline their agile figures in this dark abyss.
The water pressure is astonishing; almost anything with a cavity would be compressed into a deflated ball of paper, and even solid steel would be mercilessly crushed. However, for bronze dragons, this environment is the perfect battlefield. Their body tissues have evolved to withstand extreme water pressure through long-term underwater life, and their lungs are filled with seawater to maintain a near-equilibrium of internal and external pressure, allowing them to move freely in the deep sea for days on end.
"Still chasing?" The Thinker's deep voice slowly traveled through the water, the limited speed of propagation forcing the two bronze dragons to maintain a rigorous and precise tactical communication frequency.
The tide chanter released a special low-frequency sound wave. The sound wave spread through the water and was reflected and refracted in the sound layer formed by the temperature and density of the seawater. After a long three seconds, the echo finally came back: "Distance 4000, negative energy weakened, still tracking us."
The Thinker nodded. Although the movement was invisible in the pitch-black depths of the sea, it knew that the Singer could sense it through sound waves: "Keep your distance, continue diving deeper, weaken it."
The two bronze dragons maintained a safe distance from the bone dragon Anzu. Facing this ancient bronze and bone dragon imbued with Baal's power, they were at a significant disadvantage in terms of strength—if Anzu were to pinpoint their location and close the distance, a terrifying burst of negative energy would instantly tear them apart. Their only advantage lay in their adaptability to the deep-sea environment and their precise underwater perception.
"It's shifting." The sonic detector picked up the energy fluctuations around the Ansu skeleton. "It's expected to teleport to..." in six seconds.
Before the Tide Singer could complete its prediction, the Thinker had already adjusted its swimming direction, anticipating and avoiding Ansu's possible location. Sure enough, six seconds later, a strong wave of negative energy erupted in front of their original course, and Ansu's massive skeleton emerged from the darkness, only to miss its target.
“It cannot pinpoint its location accurately,” the Thinker explained through sound waves of a special frequency. “The water interferes with its perception, and we use this to guide it to the intended location.”
Anzu the Bone Dragon's movements had become slow and labored. With each step forward, the immense water pressure squeezed its skeleton from all directions. Although its divinely enhanced bones were as strong as mithril, they could not avoid stress concentration at the joints. The bone spikes that could stretch freely in shallow water were now compressed almost back to the surface of the skeleton, severely restricting the outflow of negative energy.
"You despicable reptile!" Ansu's roar created distorted sound waves in the deep water, crashing against the surrounding water. "Come out and face me head-on, don't hide like a coward!"
The Thinker and the Tide Singer ignored this and continued to guide Anzu forward according to their established plan. They were leading the Bone Dragon to a special deep-sea area—the Sword Coast Trench—where not only was the water pressure greater, but also where their carefully selected "assistance" was hidden.
To the average person, the Sword Coast Trench appears to be just an ordinary underwater fissure. But the bronze dragons that nest in Sword Coast know that the bottom of the trench is an unstable geological structure. Numerous hydrothermal vents and signs of volcanic activity indicate that it is a submarine volcano poised to erupt. More importantly, this area is also home to a special kind of creature—the deep-sea Kraken. These giant octopus-like sea monsters are extremely sensitive to negative energy, and any source of negative energy is their most delicious "prey."
"How much further?" The Thinker emitted a sound wave of a special frequency, which, after testing, happened to be in the sound perception blind spot of Ansu's skeletal structure.
“Twelve kilometers,” the Tide Chanter responded, using a special sound generator inside his body to create a stereoscopic image in the water. “Ansu seems to have sensed something; it’s trying to change direction. We need to give it some ‘momentum’.”
The Thinker understood the Chanter's hint and immediately adjusted the harp's playing, creating a special soundscape—a sound wave pattern that simulated the movement of a retreating army, with pre-set sound wave echoes that would mislead Anzu into thinking it was about to catch up with a large group of bronze dragons.
Ansu took the bait. Its movement speed suddenly increased, and the eerie green flames within its skeleton burned even more intensely, propelling the massive skeleton towards the source of the sound. However, this acceleration also meant greater energy consumption. The negative energy on Ansu's skeleton began to fluctuate unstablely, forming eerie ripples in the water.
“It’s consuming divinity.” The Thinker detected the change in the intensity of the eerie green flame through electric field sensing. “Baal has given it limited power, so let it continue to overdraw its resources like this.”
The two bronze dragons maintained a precise swimming rhythm, neither letting Ansu catch up nor causing him to give up the pursuit. They used the underwater terrain and water currents to constantly adjust their course, guiding Ansu step by step closer to the pre-set trap.
In the dark depths of the sea, sound waves become the primary means of perception, but their propagation is affected by various factors. Temperature layers, salinity gradients, and turbulent currents all cause sound wave reflection and refraction, creating complex sound wave paths. The Tide Chanter, with its innate talent for music and the strange knowledge given to it by Casalos, has long been adept at utilizing these characteristics to construct "dead zones" and "amplification zones" for sound waves at key locations, severely distorting Anzu's perception.
“Watch out for that acoustic reflection zone,” the tide-singer warned. The acoustic detection showed that the seabed structure ahead created a unique acoustic environment. “If Anzu enters there, its perception of sound will be completely confused.”
The Thinker immediately adjusted its course, deliberately leaving obvious traces of its energy at the edge of the reflection zone to lure Ansu into pursuit. Sure enough, Ansu detected the trace and immediately changed direction, heading straight for the reflection zone. However, the instant it entered the reflection zone, the surrounding sound waves began to bounce wildly, forming a chaotic sound field.
Anzu's sensory system was severely disrupted. It stopped, turning its head on its skeleton in confusion, trying to pinpoint the bronze dragon's location. Just then, the Thinker and the Tidecaller released bundles of lightning dragon breath from different directions. Lightning elemental energy, meandering in the seawater into tendril-like energy beams, rapidly spread and enveloped Anzu's skeleton, reverting to pulsating electrical currents. Anzu let out a painful roar, its skeleton trembling violently, eerie green flames flickering on and off. It angrily swung its bone claws, trying to dispel the current, but in seawater, the conductivity of electricity was far greater than in air, making this attack exceptionally effective. The peculiar response of lightning elemental energy to negative energy also amplified the damage Anzu suffered.
96. Big commotion
Underwater combat differs fundamentally from land-based fighting. On land, sight is the primary means of perception, and combat typically involves direct confrontation and brute force. However, underwater, due to the scarcity of light and the presence of water pressure, combat becomes a complex game of reconnaissance, location, and maneuverability.
The Thinker understands this well. It is clear about the underwater environment.
Chapter 357
The effectiveness of an attack depends not only on its power but also on the precision with which it is delivered to the target. The Bronze Dragon's lightning breath, due to the high conductivity of seawater, can be projected over long distances. When converted back into an electric current on the Anzu skeleton, it causes large-scale point-like ablation and localized ionization explosions, effectively destroying its skeletal structure.
According to Casalos's tactical theories, underwater explosions possess unique physical characteristics: water is incompressible, and the energy generated by the explosion cannot be transferred outwards as a superpressure front as it would in air; instead, it is primarily concentrated within the resulting air bubbles. At the interface between the bubbles and the water, a near-indestructible shear force is generated. This force is even capable of tearing apart divinely blessed bones.
“The negative energy field is expanding.” The low-frequency sound wave signal of the Tide Chanter propagated in the water and was accurately transmitted to the Thinker’s senses. “Detection shows that Ansu is concentrating negative energy. We are in the third reflection zone. The echo accuracy is less than 60 percent, but it is enough to confirm that it is a precursor to some kind of large-scale attack.”
The thinker immediately sends back an acknowledgment signal, indicating that it has received and understood the warning.
The two bronze dragons immediately changed their swimming posture, pressing their wings tightly against their bodies. The fin-like structures on their limbs and their tails worked together to precisely control the direction of the water flow. Their movements were as natural as flowing water, creating almost no detectable turbulence in the water, leaving only two dark shadows that quickly disappeared into the deep sea.
In the deep-sea environment, almost all conventional means of perception become ineffective. Light is blocked by the thick body of water, making vision the most unreliable method of reconnaissance; the sense of smell, which is not reliable to begin with, becomes even more blurred by underwater currents; and the electric field sensing that the Bronze Dragon relied on for survival, while highly accurate and sensitive, is limited by its weak detection range. Only sound waves become the most reliable long-range reconnaissance method in this dark realm.
It was precisely through their mastery of underwater acoustics that the Tidecallers were able to construct a clear battlefield map for them in this near-absolute darkness. This acoustic knowledge was not an instinct of the Bronze Dragons, but rather derived from the theoretical teachings of Casalozs that the Thinkers called "strange yet practical."
“The acoustic environment of the entire area has been destroyed by negative energy.” The Tide Singer issued another sound wave probe. Since Ansu’s location was known, this time it used a narrow beam of higher frequency waves. Although its underwater transmission capability was weak, it could provide more precise details. “Ansu’s negative energy is forming a spherical diffuser, with an estimated radius of more than 300 meters. It will cover the location we just left in five seconds.”
Their timing for withdrawal was impeccable. Less than six seconds after the two bronze dragons left their positions, a jet-black ball of energy rapidly expanded in the water, devouring everything at a terrifying speed. It wasn't an explosion, but a pure burst of negative energy, creating a clearly visible boundary between the water and the seawater. At this boundary, the seawater was instantly corroded into gray-black ice shards, scattering around to form a bottomless zone of death.
The originally clear sound wave reflection environment was completely destroyed. The sound wave detector of the Tide Chanter could only return a chaotic noise in this area, as if countless disturbed echoes were returning at the same time, making precise positioning almost impossible.
The Thinker and the Singer maintained a safe distance of about three thousand meters. The Singer swam around the Thinker, emitting a wide beam of low-frequency waves tangentially every five seconds to search for Anzu's location again. Anzu, awakened by Baal's divinity, would not be infected by Baal and become stupid. It was gradually regaining the instincts of the aquatic species in front of it, using counterattacks to disrupt the sound patterns and hide its own location.
“Anzu’s consumption is much lower than expected; Baal’s divinity makes it unafraid of consumption,” the Thinker conveyed to the Chanter through electric field pulses of a specific frequency. “We can no longer use the same seduction strategy; it is adapting to the tactics of this sound wave reflection zone.”
This is a pure underwater hunting game. In this contest, whoever can better control the flow of information will gain the upper hand. With the help of Casalos's underwater tactics theories, the Thinker has already formulated a detailed battle plan.
“The trench is almost here.” The Tide Chanter sent out a complex signal, which included key information such as location, distance, and terrain. “It’s time to wake up our ‘friends’.”
The thinker agreed, and the harp played a carefully crafted, extremely high-frequency sound wave. This sound wave traveled a short distance, yet it effectively penetrated the thick seabed silt, reaching depths of several meters below the seabed. The sound wave echoed at the bottom of the trench, awakening the various creatures that had long inhabited that area.
The first to respond were a group of deep-sea merfolk, emerging from the cracks in the trench and curiously following the source of the sound waves. To the Bronze Dragons, these gill-bearing humanoids were less an intelligent race and more a link in the food chain—merfolk had always been at the top of the Bronze Dragons' list of favorite foods. But now, they would become perfect cannon fodder in the fight against Anzu.
Instead of communicating directly with the fish-men, the Thinker subtly adjusted its sound wave frequency, allowing them to sense the negative energy emanating from Anzu and the threat this energy posed to their habitat. The evil fish-men were quickly enraged. They formed a simple yet effective battle formation and swam towards Anzu, brandishing tridents and bone spears, emitting high-pitched battle roars like whale songs, clearly unaware of the impending threat.
Ansu scoffed at these insignificant creatures, releasing an arc of negative energy from its skeleton, effortlessly reducing dozens of approaching fish-men to floating ashes. However, this was only the beginning; more marine life was awakened by the sound waves, emerging from the depths of the trench.
Giant crab-like creatures, swarms of fluorescent jellyfish, and ferocious deep-sea fish with rows of serrated teeth converged on Ansu from all directions at varying speeds. None of these creatures posed a real threat to Ansu, but their relentless numbers and fearless onslaught effectively distracted him, interfering with his perception and decision-making.
Just as the Bronze Dragon was searching for the best scouting position, the Singer's sonic detectors detected an unusual vibration. This vibration did not originate from Anzu, but rather from the depths of the seabed, accompanied by a faint but steadily increasing wave of thermal energy.
"There's movement deep in the trench." The tide-singer noticed this unusual phenomenon and immediately alerted the thinker, "It seems to be..."
Before its acoustic analysis was complete, a huge black shadow suddenly emerged from the bottom of the trench. It was an astonishingly large deep-sea Kraken, even larger than Anzu, with tentacles tens of meters long, each covered with sharp suckers.
Kraken's body emanated an ancient and primal energy, creating a strong repulsive field with Ansu's negative energy.
"Sea monsters can't save you!" Ansu's roar shook the surrounding water, and the eerie green flames within his skeleton suddenly erupted, forming a highly concentrated beam of energy that struck the Kraken's body directly. The energy beam traced a distorted trajectory in the water, instantly vaporizing the surrounding water and creating a brief vacuum. However, the moment the energy beam touched the Kraken, it was deflected by some strange force field, forming a shimmering, iridescent energy ripple around the Kraken.
However, the powerful corrosive force of the negative energy still managed to penetrate the Kraken's defenses, causing a deathly grayish-white hue to appear on its barrel-shaped body, and black ice crystals to grow from within it, robbing it of its life force.
Before dying, the Kraken emitted a low cry, the sound waves forming visible pulsating rings in the water. This was not an attack, but a call to its kind. Soon, more Kraken surfaced from the depths of the trench, forming a loose but effective encirclement, closing in on Anzu.
"When they were alive, they were just my food!"
Ansu is roaring, Kraken
Chapter 358
In death.
“Our target is approaching.” The Thinker’s electric field sensor detected unusual geomagnetic changes beneath the seabed. “The geomagnetic field is very disordered, and the magma layer is active.”
The Tide Chanter understood the Thinker's intention: "The signs of a volcanic eruption have already appeared; we need to move into the final stage."
At this critical moment, the Thinker finally decided to implement the final plan.
The two bronze dragons stopped dodging and instead swam along a calculated trajectory, deliberately appearing within Ansu's perception range to attract its attention. Ansu, sensing the bronze dragons' presence, immediately abandoned its engagement with the Kraken and charged towards them.
"Enemies of the Father!" Ansu's roar created a series of dense sound waves in the water, "I will tear you to pieces and offer them to the great Baal!"
The Thinker and the Tide Chanter guided Anzu with precise trajectories, leading it to a magnetic anomaly in the trench—where the crust is thinnest and volcanic activity is most frequent. Meanwhile, the surviving Krakens followed closely behind; these creatures, lacking intelligence, were driven by their instinct to hunt negative energy, relentlessly pursuing Anzu.