[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-black-dragon-necromancer":3,"chapter-black-dragon-necromancer-black-dragon-necromancer-chapter-131":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Black Dragon Necromancer",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2312891,4521,"Chapter 131: Operation Crystalhorn Bay","black-dragon-necromancer-chapter-131",131,"\u003Cp>From the dawn of the fourth day, the catapult positions along Fallstar Beach entered an unprecedented frenzy. Over forty heavy counterweight catapults and twenty magical incendiary ballistae rained destruction upon the demon front walls at a saturation rate of one volley per quarter-hour.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What rained down was not merely boulders, but goblin “surprise packages”—clay jars filled with sulfur, iron slag, and unstable arcane crystals that exploded on impact, then burned, finally releasing acidic mists that lingered for minutes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The front wall sector was utterly engulfed in thick smoke, firelight, and unceasing thunder. The demons’ ranged fire was suppressed, their attention pinned firmly to the front.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clear repair gaps began appearing on the walls, but the repair pace was noticeably slower than before—indicating that certain defense resources had been diverted elsewhere.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hawkbeak Cliff was a jagged, protruding rock spur on the western side of Crystalhorn Bay, four hundred meters below which lay the rooftops of port towers and warehouses. The winds here were violent, the cliffs slick, Changnian  shrouded in sea mist with mild corrosive properties.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh stood at the cliff’s edge, pulling out a gnome-made pocket watch. The hands read 9:47. Thick fog began rising over the pitch-black sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him stood three hundred “Blood Fang” bodyguards—light armor, sharp claws, carrying climbing gear and short heavy weapons. Goblin Chief Engineer Grik crouched nearby, making final checks on spider-boots and silent descent lines—standard drow equipment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Remember,” Gisketh’s voice scraped like a blade in the wind, “once down, I hit the lighthouse, Blackfang Squad takes the west tower, the rest clear the warehouse district. Talk with your claws. The first one to alert the demons—I’ll throw him into the Shattered Star Strait myself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At 9:53, the descent began. Dozens of ghostly black shadows slid rapidly down nearly invisible ropes into the fog and darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Spider-boots allowed soldiers to make brief lateral movements along near-vertical cliffs, avoiding the patrol lights below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As roughly one-third of the force descended, a stretch of “cliff” that had appeared as solid rock suddenly writhed—it was a camouflaged Abyssal Predatory Moss!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This magical plant secreted paralyzing slime and emitted psychic shrieks. Three ogre soldiers were instantly engulfed and dragged into rock fissures, barely managing half a choked grunt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh didn’t hesitate. Mid-descent, he twisted, tore apart a massive patch of moss lunging at him with bare hands, foul-smelling sap splattering his armor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave a sharp downward-cutting gesture upward, abandoned the ambushed, and descended at full speed! War allowed no mercy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When Gisketh’s boots slammed onto the wooden pier outside the port lighthouse, he checked his watch—the hands read exactly 10:06.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Five demon guards stood with their backs to the cliff, watching the illusionary firelight of the lizardman fleet’s feint in the strait.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh’s dagger, “Soulhunter,” flashed a streak of obsidian light. Two demon guards fell instantly, silent. The rest of the bodyguards pounced like wolves; the remaining three were torn apart within seconds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lighthouse control room lay ahead. Inside, two Abyssal Eye-Servants manipulated a focusing lens (used to guide or disrupt ships), and a raging marauder commanded them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh burst in. The marauder’s roar was silenced as a precisely thrown battle-axe drove into his throat. The bodyguards overwhelmed the two shrieking eye servants.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At 9:09 p.m., the Abyssal violet light atop the lighthouse went dark. Then, a blood-red magical lamp began flashing three steady pulses toward the strait—the pre-arranged signal to Shadowclaw: “Position secured, gate not yet controlled.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, the west tower was successfully stormed by the Blackfang Team; its ballistae were destroyed. The warehouse district erupted in fierce but brief combat, most low-ranking demon guards asleep in their quarters eliminated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Intruders—!” A piercing scream rang out. Throughout the demon nest, alarms blared in succession. A small squad of Abyssal Hoof Clan warriors blocked the corridor leading to the main gate control room.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At 10:17, Gisketh saw a flood of torches pouring from the eastern reinforcement corridor—and a towering, lava-cracked Rockash Mage-Craftsman. He knew he could wait no longer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He seized a specialized signal flare from a bodyguard, aimed it skyward, and pulled the fuse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shhh—Boom!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A meteor wrapped in blood-red flame exploded above the port, visible even through the fog. This was no longer a pre-signal—it was the general attack order!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The lizardman main fleet, which had been patrolling the Shattered Star Strait and creating massive noise, suddenly turned one-third of its ships. With impossible speed, they rode ocean currents and magical sails straight toward Crystalhorn Bay!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three “Shadow Vessels,” which had clung like shadows to the darkness beyond the breakwater, instantly lowered their iron-reinforced rams.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom! Boom! Boom!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three muffled roars. The rams were not meant to smash the breakwater—they drove deep into rock crevices, locking the ships in place. Gangways lowered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The “Citybreaker” heavy-axe ogre warriors, clad in heavy armor, surged onto the breakwater like a steel tide, smashing into the flank of the Abyssal Hoof Clan warriors locked in combat with Gisketh’s bodyguards!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Rockash Mage-Craftsman tried to repeat his old trick—melting the ground to create barriers. But Gisketh had prepared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Frost runes! Throw them!” Goblin engineers hurled their few remaining metal jars etched with potent frost runes. Frost mist collided with molten rock, exploding into vast clouds of steam and shattered stone, temporarily halting the mage-craftsman’s spellcasting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, several “Blood Fang” bodyguards used their bodies and makeshift steel plates to hold back the Abyssal Hoof Clan’s charge, buying the engineers behind them ten seconds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In those ten seconds, the goblin engineers piled alchemical gunpowder beneath the granite gate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At 10:25, a deafening explosion! The gate shattered into a twisted, gaping hole.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh charged in first. Inside lay a complex system of winches and gears. He didn’t glance—he swung “Darkblade Spear” in wild, furious strikes at the core transmission mechanism. Metal twisted, gears flew apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a grating, teeth-chilling snap, the system controlling Crystalhorn Bay’s main gate and partial water gates was physically crippled. This meant the demons could no longer lower the gate to isolate the port, nor activate preset underwater defenses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With the main gate out of control, the allied forces inside and outside the port began to merge. The tide of battle turned utterly in Gisketh’s favor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Rockash Mage-Craftsman, attempting to retreat, was impaled on the dock by a deep-sea frost-iron harpoon fired from a lizardman ship, then surrounded and slaughtered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Abyssal Hoof Clan warriors fought to their last man—none surrendered. Their corpses piled the corridor outside the control room. The remaining port demon garrison was methodically purged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a night of bloody battle, roughly seventy percent of Crystalhorn Bay’s port area was seized. The main gate control system was destroyed. The lighthouse and two key towers were captured. A secure maritime supply line, capable of docking large transport ships, had been forcibly opened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When dawn lit the Shattered Star Strait on the fifth day, Crystalhorn Bay had changed hands. Gisketh’s crude wolf-head battle standard flew atop the lighthouse, snapping in the sea wind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stood on the blood-slicked, debris-strewn, corpse-littered dock, his boots crushing shattered gears and cooled lava. Lizardman transport ships began cautiously docking, unloading the first batch of fortification materials and fresh troops.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shadowclaw stepped beside him, scales streaked with smoke. “The channel is open. But the demons won’t yield. The main district’s counterattack will come soon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gisketh stared up at the silent, massive core zone beyond the cliff. He licked his dry, cracked lips—tasting blood and sulfur.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let them come.” His voice, hoarse from a night of roaring, carried icy certainty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now, we stand inside the walls, waiting for them to crash against us. Tell everyone—turn this place into a hedgehog’s nest. The real battle has only just begun.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shadowclaw, your ships can return.” Gisketh’s voice, roughened by smoke and screams, turned away from the gradually brightening sky, his gaze fixed on the mountain of fallen soldiers piled in the port. “But this mess? It’s only just begun.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned, his crimson bestial eyes locking onto the lizardman commander.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Go tell Lady Vyranseth—we pried open the door, but what’s inside is biting back. The relic’s bones are harder than expected. Every stone is soaked in something that drives men mad.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I need more ‘teeth’ to gnaw through it: heavy siege engine components, long-running purification cores, and… specialized agents to cleanse Abyssal corruption. Ordinary arrows and rations won’t suffice.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped closer, his lowered voice carrying the chill of rusted iron: “The Duke has too many enemies. Eyes in the shadows don’t just watch here—they watch behind us.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can’t pour all our blood onto this wall. I must keep enough claws to nail down other directions. So, the reinforcements I can keep feeding inward won’t exceed one hundred thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked last toward the horizon, his tone unyielding: “The channel is open. Time is troops. Tell her to hurry.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sulaid, our situation grows more dangerous. Five days ago, Livog came to me saying the Duke encountered trouble in Dimension 72, and assigned me oversight of Dimension 1872.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve got my own nightmare, Morax. Can you explain what’s going on with the Dragonworship Cult? Sanazhuo came to me half a month ago—he said their thousand-strong force was ambushed on the Shatterstone Continent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Annihilated. Not a single messenger escaped. He came asking who did it. How would I know? Do you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who did it?” Morax’s rasping voice came from the other side of the crystal ball, laced with a cruel, almost playful amusement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Does it matter? The Duke only said ‘delay their steps.’ He never specified how—with living men or dead ones… is there a difference?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He seemed to be slowly swirling a glass of wine on the other side; the faint sloshing sound was audible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When men die, you seek the one who set the board—not the hands that moved the pieces. If Sanazhuo has the guts, let him go to the Abyssal Forge and ask the Duke himself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A low, rasping laugh echoed—like a dull blade scraping bone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He won’t. The Dragonworship Cult may be mad, but they know which dragon’s true name must not be spoken, which Abyss must not be gazed into.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The laughter cut off abruptly, tone turning icy: “So, who buried the bodies? Irrelevant. What matters is the game still moves forward.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“By the way,” Morax’s voice resumed its slow, cold precision,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I nearly forgot the main matter. How’s Norasien Port coming along? That little wolf pup Gisketh’s claws are swift—Crystalhorn Bay now flies his wolf-head banner.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The image in the crystal ball rippled faintly, as if amused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Once the port opens, those ‘righteous heroes’ drawn by the scent of copper will dock with their bulging coin-purses and dreams of fortune.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your docks, taverns, black markets… and those ‘special’ supplies—ready to make gold coins jingle?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His tone carried a teasing warning:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t let our frontline Viceroy grow impatient. If the blood he tore open doesn’t bring a steady flow of ‘funding’… next time, it won’t be just a teacup that shatters.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ha!” Sulaid’s laugh crackled through the crystal ball—short, dry, like a snapped bone. “That brat was tossed into that stone graveyard last year. Barely a year passed, and his claws are already itching to step over my shoulders?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His voice sank, thick with a viscous, calculating coldness:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But… that relic, in the end, is still the Duke’s scythe for cutting open adventurers’ coin-purses. The sharper the scythe, the more gold it reaps. This time, I’ll pretend I didn’t see his little tricks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a brief silence, his tone grew light—yet colder:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“After all, delaying the gold flow into the Duke’s pockets… that sin weighs far heavier than a mere port. Isn’t that right?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s not why I called you,” Morax’s voice plunged suddenly, like a stone dropped into an ice-cold well. “Shalut’s ships over there are useless. This month, twenty have sunk.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vyranseth changed her mind—she’s rebuilding the shipyard midstream on the Mu River, then sailing upstream to rescue Shalut’s three legions, stranded deep in the Shatterstone Continent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, as if weighing each word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But Shadowclaw is dead. Five days ago, in the nameless waters west of the Poison Mire. I went to the scene myself… only floating splinters and a few bloated, unrecognizable lizardman corpses.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The ship’s gone. The cargo’s gone. Even the blood on the sea surface was washed clean by the tide.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The voice in the crystal ball grew unusually grave:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This wasn’t an accident, Morax. Someone cut off the Duke’s ‘hand’ reaching toward the Shatterstone Continent—right under our noses. And they did it cleanly, left no thread to follow.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We don’t need a fleet,” Morax’s voice was like steel dipped in ice, “we need a fang that can tear through storms—and through someone else’s scythe. On the Shatterstone Continent’s board, we can’t rely only on Gisketh’s few pawns that have crossed the river.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The glow of the crystal ball flickered, reflecting his cold, calculating gaze:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Gisketh’s claws are already stuck in the wall. His army is like a weary wolf—it needs to lie down and lick its wounds, and needs fresh meat thrown before it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But if the meat we throw is always touched first by someone else’s knives and forks… that wolf will eventually starve into someone else’s prey.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paused, each word driven like a nail:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So, the next fleet must be armed to the teeth. Capable of carrying supplies—and, if necessary, dragging unwanted ‘fishermen’ and their nets into the Abyss.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Shatterstone Continent’s interests must be guarded by our own sharks—not by charity barges from others.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Draw troops? Resources?” Sulaid’s voice came through the crystal ball, hardened by reality’s abrasion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I only have hammers to take from the east wall—no bricks to rebuild the west. The sea elves cut all transport contracts last month. They smelled blood and retracted their wings faster than anyone.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He gave a short, humorless laugh: “As for the Duke’s domains? Every sword-wielder has already been thrown into the cracks of other dimensions. What’s left are either immobile old bones or nursing pups.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“And the lizardmen…” He paused, tone nearly mocking, “their scales were never meant to fight in saltwater. Last voyage proved it—deep sea swallows them easier than demons crush ogre shields.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The glow of the crystal ball dimmed slightly: “Reality is, Morax—we have no ‘fang’ ready to launch right now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Shatterstone Continent’s game must be held by the pieces already on the board… or you must find other ‘shipbuilding timber.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait, old friend,” Morax’s voice suddenly dropped, yet gleamed with sharp insight—like a match struck in darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It may not be hopeless. That boy Gisketh dug up something interesting from the ruins of Crystalhorn Bay—he mentioned a ‘crabfolk,’ a shell-creature, born to handle ropes and waves—better at seafaring than ten lizardmen tied together.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fine.\" Su Laide’s voice carried a thread of resigned exhaustion, like a bent old bowstring.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll go try my luck with those long-eared shell traders again. Under their docks, they always hide old ships not on record—so long as the coins jingle loud enough, you can buy even their elder’s crown to use as a helm wheel.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He exhaled slowly, the breath seeming to pierce the crystal ball, thick with smoke and calculation:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"But this price... it’ll scrape clean the last specks of gold dust from the Duke’s treasury corners. You’d better pray whatever Giske dug up from the ruin is worth it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a brief silence, his tone hardened again:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll find a ship. Tell Akuilong to ready his hammer and abacus. As for the Crabfolk... by the time the first ship sets sail, he’d better have tamed his new ‘crab sailors.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"After all,\" he added at last, his voice so low it bordered on a whisper, \"when the treasury is empty, something else must fill it. The whirlpools of Crackstone Continent are now pulling even us in.\"\u003C\u002Fp>",2631,"2026-06-20T13:10:04.638Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","09684aabedd629654a08df573ce90835be7936f167dd0ee2f87a27238e49e92b","black-dragon-necromancer-chapter-132","black-dragon-necromancer-chapter-130",145,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fblack-dragon-necromancer-cover.jpg"]