Chapter 138: Undercurrents

The map of the Ku Hai Yu Zhao had been spread out before Sakavi for an entire night.

The faint glow of dark red magma surged up from the bottom of the cave, casting the yellowed parchment in the light of a half-coagulated bloodstain.

Sakavi's vertical pupils wandered across the map, slowly scanning every contour line, every annotated symbol, and every relic marker outlined in dark ink.

The map was very old. He could smell the scent of time on the parchment—a mixture of dust, mold, and some kind of preservative herb accumulated over hundreds of years.

But more importantly, the topographical features marked on the map matched his memories from the Dragon Heritage regarding the Scorched Mark Wasteland.

Ku Hai Yu Zhao. An ancient battlefield. The bones of hundreds of thousands of warriors had sunk into the mud.

Sakavi's gaze lingered for a long time on the line of text: "Suspected site of a large-scale summoning formation."

He lifted his massive dragon head and looked toward the crack in the cave ceiling, obscured by sulfurous smoke. Through the crack, one could see the eternally unchanging dark red sky of the 72nd Abyssal Plane, like a wound that was constantly bleeding.

The communication formation in the corner was dim and lusterless. In this plane, where demons held absolute dominance, cross-plane communication required a huge price and was extremely unstable. The communication crystal left behind by Karawa before he departed had not lit up for three days.

Sakavi was not in a hurry.

Some chess pieces, when left unmoved on the board, were more intimidating than when they were in motion.

He closed his eyes again, resting his massive dragon head between his front claws. In the distance, the magma pool of the Purgatory Volcano surged occasionally, emitting a dull, gurgling sound, like the muttering of some giant beast in a dream.

Meanwhile, ten thousand miles away at the Sanjiaozhou, Elna was standing at the entrance of the stronghold cave, looking at the surging mist over the Ash Sea.

Her long silver-white hair was blown backward by the sea breeze, and her dark red pupils reflected the faint sails in the distance. Those were transport ships, supply ships from Nuoraxien Harbor, coming to pick her and her subordinates up.

But today, there was a different ship on the sea.

It was smaller and narrower than the other ships, its hull painted a deep gray, almost blending into the mist. It had no flags and no markings, like a withered leaf floating on the sea.

Elna's left index finger tapped twice lightly on the hilt of the blade at her waist.

Tap. Tap.

"My Lady Matriarch, the guest is waiting in the side cave," the voice of her personal guard, Veris, came from behind.

Elna did not turn back, only nodding slightly. Her gaze lingered on the small gray ship for a moment before she turned and walked into the depths of the cave.

The side cave was located below the main hall of the stronghold, accessible only through a narrow spiral stone staircase. There was no fluorescent moss here, only a few copper lamps lit with Abyssal grease, their dim yellow light turning the water stains on the rock walls into twisted faces.

Liwoge sat on a rough stone stool, his posture as casual as if he were in his own living room. He maintained his green dragon-man form, his emerald vertical pupils glowing slightly in the dim light, a faint, ambiguous smile hanging on the corners of his mouth.

He was dressed in a well-tailored dark green travel coat, with an inconspicuous silver brooch pinned to his collar—a magical item for disguise that could block detection spells.

"Lady Elna." He stood up and bowed slightly, his movements as elegant as a court dancer. "You look... in good spirits."

Elna did not respond to his pleasantries. She sat down opposite him, her back against the rock wall, her hands folded on her lap. Her eyes stared at Liwoge like two unsheathed blades.

"You shouldn't have come here," she said. "The Grand Duke's people have been watching you."

"That is why I came." Liwoge's smile remained unchanged. "The more open and aboveboard I am, the less I will arouse suspicion. Who would think that I, Liwoge, a loyal subject of the Grand Duke, would appear at your stronghold?"

Elna did not smile.

"Speak. What is it?"

Liwoge restrained his smile, leaning forward slightly, his voice lowered: "Karawa has left."

Elna's expression did not change in the slightest.

"I know. He was ordered by the Grand Duke to go to the Sanjiaozhou to take my place." Her tone was as flat as if she were describing something that had nothing to do with her. "All my Drow have withdrawn, leaving only the Gnolls."

"So you are just going to obey obediently?" Liwoge's vertical pupils narrowed slightly. "Handing over the territory you worked so hard to conquer?"

"What do you think?"

Elna did not answer directly. She slid a black Scout Badge from her sleeve—it was the one left behind by Keno, the captain of the Fifth Scout Team, who had died surrounded by Bone-Spike Toad Demons at the Whispering Shoals.

Her fingertips pressed against the dent on the back of the badge where an arrow had pierced it, rubbing it gently.

"Keno followed me for twenty years," she said. "When he was surrounded at the Whispering Shoals, I didn't receive the news until three minutes later. By the time I rushed over, his corpse had already been half-digested."

Liwoge's smile faded slightly.

"Did someone deliberately delay the news?" he asked.

"I don't know." Elna tucked the badge back into her sleeve. "But I know one thing: in this world, the person who can make me suffer a loss hasn't been born yet."

Silence spread through the cave. The light of the copper lamps flickered, stretching and twisting the shadows of the two people, casting them onto the rock wall like two entangled vines.

Liwoge restrained his smile, leaning forward slightly, his voice lowered: "Vickers has been followed recently."

Elna's expression shifted slightly.

"Whose people?"

"I don't know. But in this world, those who have a reason to monitor a Legendary Blue Dragon can be counted on one hand." Liwoge paused. "Do you guess the Grand Duke might be one of them?"

Elna was silent for a few breaths.

"What happened to Vickers?" she asked.

"His family is pressuring him." Liwoge's voice was even lower. "He hasn't agreed yet, but he hasn't refused either. If the Grand Duke is truly suspicious of him..."

He did not finish, but the meaning was already obvious.

"What do you want to say?" Elna turned around, her dark red pupils staring straight at Liwoge.

"I don't want to say anything." Liwoge stood up, spreading his hands in an innocent gesture.

"I just think you should know this. After all... the trust between you and the Grand Duke has never been solid."

Liwoge was silent for a few breaths.

"Lady Elna, there are some things I shouldn't say." His voice was even lower. "But the Grand Duke recently... doesn't trust many people. Vickers is being monitored, your forces in the Sanjiaozhou are being stripped away, Giske has been transferred away from Crystal Horn Bay..."

"Are you trying to say the Grand Duke is suspicious of me?"

Liwoge did not answer. But his silence itself was the answer.

Elna stood up and walked to the edge of the cave, looking out at the gray, misty sea. The mist surged over the Ash Sea like countless gray hands clawing at the void.

"Liwoge." She finally spoke, her voice as light as a whisper.

"Yes."

"Some chess pieces, from the moment they are placed on the board, are destined to be eaten. The only difference is whether they are eaten by the opponent or by their own side."

She turned around, her dark red pupils glowing in the dim firelight like two red-hot iron nails.

She took a step forward, almost face-to-face with Liwoge.

"You are testing me. I don't like being tested."

Liwoge's smile stiffened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.

"You misunderstood, Lady Elna. I am just... concerned."

"Concerned?" Elna let out a short, cold chuckle. "In this world, concern is the cheapest bargaining chip. Save it."

She turned away, no longer looking at him.

"You can go. Remember, next time, have someone announce you before you come."

Liwoge bowed slightly, turned, and disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

Elna stood alone, the sea breeze pouring in from the cave entrance, blowing her long hair.

A spider crawled out from a crack in the rock wall, climbed up her arm, and onto her shoulder. It stopped by her ear, its mouthparts opening and closing slightly, emitting an almost inaudible rustling sound.

Elna closed her eyes.

Her left index finger tapped twice lightly on the hilt of the blade at her waist.

Tap. Tap.

Two taps.

Then it stopped.

"Wait a little longer," she whispered.

The spider leaped from her shoulder and disappeared into the darkness.

And a hundred miles away on the Muhe Plain, another kind of undercurrent was surging.

Vilance stood on the canal embankment, her Thorn Deer antlers looming in the morning mist.

Her gaze pierced through the gray-white mist, looking toward the depths of the plain, where there was an unnatural darkness, like a drop of ink on a gray canvas.

That was the territory of the Shadow Abyss Terrors.

For days, the canal project had been harassed by them. The Terrors were not good at frontal assaults and had been engaging in constant small-scale infiltration.

Overnight, the newly repaired embankment would be dug with several large holes; soldiers on night duty would suddenly disappear into the darkness, leaving only a pool of blood; stored grain would be found corrupted and inedible upon waking.

Vilance's antlers vibrated slightly, vines extending from the tips into the mist. This was the Druid's "Nature Perception," allowing her to hear the voice of the earth through plants.

And then she "heard" it.

It was not footsteps, not a heartbeat, but something deeper—like water seeping into sand, like shadows devouring light. The Terrors were approaching, not from one direction, but from all sides, like a net closing in.

"Sha Lu Te." Vilance's voice was not loud, but it reached the ears of the Ogre commander behind her clearly.

Sha Lu Te was inspecting a newly arrived batch of supplies. Hearing Vilance's voice, he immediately put down the wooden box, his battle-axe already in his hand.

"They are closing the net," Vilance said.

Sha Lu Te's fangs spread slightly, revealing stark white roots. He did not ask "How do you know," nor did he question the accuracy of the intelligence. On the battlefield, a Druid's nature perception was more reliable than any scout.

"How many?" he asked.

"I don't know. But at least fifty, approaching from six directions."

Sha Lu Te was silent for a moment. Fifty Terrors—he was not afraid of a frontal clash, but the Terrors never engaged in frontal clashes. They would ambush in the dark, attack when you were most exhausted, and pounce from the shadows the moment you relaxed your vigilance.

"Have everyone retreat to the inside of the embankment," Sha Lu Te said to his messenger. "Recall all outer sentries. Shield-bearers on the outside, archers on the inside. No one is allowed to act alone."

The messenger took the order and left.

Sha Lu Te walked to Vilance's side, lowering his voice: "Can you feel which direction they are densest in?"

Vilance's antlers turned slightly, like two antennas pointing in different directions. After a few breaths, she lifted a front hoof and pointed to the southeast.

"There. At least twenty."

Sha Lu Te nodded and said nothing more. He turned and walked toward the assembling phalanx, his battle-axe spinning in his hand, the cold light on the blade flashing in the mist.

The battle broke out less than ten minutes later.

It was not from the southeast; the Terrors were more cunning than Sha Lu Te had expected. They launched their first wave of attacks from the west, the weakest part of the embankment and the direction with the fewest defenders.

Three Terrors leaped out of the mist, their bodies almost blending into the shadows, with only a blurred dark outline visible at the moment of the pounce.

The first Terror bit the edge of an Ogre soldier's shield, the immense biting force tearing the iron plating off the shield's edge.

The soldier roared and swung his battle-axe, the blade hacking into the Terror's shoulder but failing to cut in; the Terror's fur was as slick as if it had absorbed all light, and the axe blade only left a shallow bloody scratch.

The second Terror pounced from the side, aiming for the soldier's exposed back.

But just as its claws reached out, a thick thorny vine drilled out from the ground and wrapped around its hind leg. The vine tightened violently, and the crisp sound of bone cracking echoed in the mist.

Vilance stood on high ground, the emerald light on her antlers flickering slightly. Her expression did not change—no anger, no fear, only a cold, almost cruel focus.

More Terrors surged out of the mist. They did not charge blindly like beasts but organized themselves into groups: one group feinted to attract attention, one group flanked, and one group searched for weaknesses in the defensive line.

This was the fighting style of intelligent beings.

Battle-Banner Commander Du Ge gritted his teeth, his battle-axe flying in his hands, each swing precisely hacking at a Terror's neck or joints. But these guys were too slippery; their fur seemed to distort light, causing one's vision to deviate.

"Shield wall, contract!" he roared. "Don't chase! Let them crash into us!"

The Ogre giant shield-bearers immediately raised their shields to their chests, half-crouched, shield edges pressed against the ground, forming an airtight circular defensive line. The Terrors' charge crashed into the shield wall, emitting a dull, thunderous sound, but not a single defensive line was torn open.

Archers shot arrows through the gaps in the shields, the arrows whistling as they pierced the Terrors' bodies. But the Terrors' vitality was abnormally tenacious; they would not fall immediately after being hit, only becoming more violent.

The battle lasted for nearly half an hour.

When the last Terror dragged its injured hind leg and disappeared into the mist, the construction site was a mess. The embankment had been damaged in several places, over a dozen soldiers had fallen, and more were covered in wounds torn by the Terrors' sharp claws.

Vilance walked down from the high ground, the emerald light on her antlers slowly fading. She walked to the corpse of a Terror, lowered her head, and gently touched its gray-black fur with her antlers.

Then her gaze swept across the battlefield and stopped beside a pile of rubble on the east side of the embankment.

Lying there was a young Druid apprentice. His name was Eri; he had followed Vilance for less than two years and had only learned to use thorny vines to bind moving targets the day before yesterday.

A terror demon circled behind him in the chaos. His throat was bitten through. His eyes were still open, his pupils already dilated, and his hand still gripped the seed that had not yet grown into a vine.

Vilance stood beside him for a long time.

"They are testing us," she said.

Sha Lu Te wiped the blood from his face—not his own, but blood splattered when he smashed a Terror's skull. "Testing what?"

"Testing our reaction speed, troop deployment, and command system." Vilance looked up toward the depths of the mist. "They are preparing. The next wave of attacks won't be this simple."

Sha Lu Te cursed.

"How much longer until the canal is open?"

"Twenty days," Vilance said, "if they don't come to cause trouble."

"That's impossible."

"Yes."

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Sha Lu Te turned and roared at the exhausted soldiers:

"You all heard her? Don't just stand there! Wood, stones, hammers—bring them all to me! If the canal isn't open within twenty days, none of us will leave this plain alive!"

The soldiers grumbled as they moved.

Vilance stood alone on the high ground, the vines on her antlers unconsciously intertwining, as if weaving some kind of pattern.

She thought of Sakavi.

That lazy dragon was probably napping in some warm cave right now, throwing all the dirty and tiring work to his subordinates. And she, here, was chewing mud, feeding mosquitoes, and playing a battle of wits with a pack of wolf-cubs that only knew how to hide in the shadows and ambush.

"That lazy dragon," she whispered, her tone devoid of anger, only containing something indescribable.

The wind blew from the depths of the plain, carrying the smell of mist, rotten mud, and the scorched stench unique to the Terrors' fur.

And in the depths of the Purgatory Volcano in the 72nd Abyssal Plane, Sakavi opened his eyes.

His vertical pupils lit up in the darkness like two red-hot gold coins.

The communication formation remained dim and lusterless. No news from Karawa, no news from Elna, no news from Vilance. Only dead silence, and the dull gurgling sound emitted when the magma pool surged occasionally.

Sakavi stared at the beacon, silent for a long time. His vertical pupils reflected the dark red light inside the crystal, like two gold coins slowly burning.

He remembered what he was like when he first arrived at the 72nd plane. At that time, his soul was still whole, and his body was still full of power. Now, with every breath, he could feel something gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

He needed those undead. Not out of greed, but out of survival.

If he couldn't stand firm here, what he would lose would not just be territory. He would be like a piece of metal thrown into acid, slowly dissolved by this plane until nothing was left.

Sakavi closed his eyes, resting his massive dragon head between his front claws.

"Karawa," he whispered.

No response.

He had forgotten that Karawa had already been sent to the Sanjiaozhou. In this plane where communication was difficult, he couldn't contact anyone. He could only wait.

The undercurrents had already begun to surge. And he had never been the fish pushed along by the current. ===== CHAPTER 139 =====