Chapter 41: The Ally of Hell

“Prague, in recent years, the frequency of revolts among various races has clearly increased significantly—have you noticed this issue? I’m not questioning your ability, but I feel it’s necessary to remind you that sometimes firm measures are required.”

“Master, I understand your meaning. Overseer Grap’s methods were too harsh; each year, he ‘cleared’ over ten thousand people, and many races replaced their chieftains more than ten times. This has severely damaged our reputation and created great difficulties for our work—I wish to change this situation.”

“Prague, I know exactly what those people say behind my back—that I’m a ‘Skeleton Ghost,’ right? Then tell me, if I swapped my domain with Vendisha to the north, would they also give her such a nickname, or would they thank her for her cruelty tempered with mercy?”

“Master, every resident here is a living being with thoughts—they shouldn’t be subjected to violence without cause. If they fail to understand your intentions, that is our fault as subordinates, and we must resolve it ourselves.”

“How you resolve it is your decision—I’ll support you fully. But know this: my patience is limited, and some rabble cannot be reasoned with. In the past four years, the Pillar of Loyalty has destroyed over one hundred thirty rebel organizations, though none reached fifty members.”

“Verna, why are you only returning now? Did you encounter trouble on the way? Prague, you go ahead—I suspect Verna has run into something difficult.”

“Master, I didn’t face any difficulties, but I encountered something very interesting—I’m certain you’ll find it fascinating.”

“Let me guess—did you find somewhere to get gold coins?”

“Hah! Do you only care about gold coins? How utterly dull.”

“Then are you also keeping track of which finely crafted jewelry is on the market? If you go to your office, you’ll find them all on the desk.”

“Thank you very much! But I have something more important to say—Borg Bloodaxe is dead. I don’t think I need to explain who this ogre is.”

“Yes, I know him—he’s the one who forced me to leave the Cardow Plane. What? Is Cardow being watched?”

“It’s Baron Barrot of the Sixth Layer of Ba Tuo Hell. All the details about this devil are here. If you intend to get involved, hurry—the fighting has already begun.”

“Rest for now, take a vacation. The Fishman Beach is a beautiful place right now—I think you’ll enjoy its nights. When you leave, remember to send me Clausuna.”

…………

Clausuna: “I heard you’re sending me to the Cardow Plane to cooperate with devils?”

Sakavi: “Correct. Our newly risen transcendent members need battlefield experience. Do you know why I chose you to lead?”

“Because I am a noble black dragon, more suitable than them in both strength and status.”

“Hmm, sort of! We are faithful followers of Tiamat, mistress of the First Layer of Ba Tuo Hell—Avernus. Thus, Barrot of the Sixth Layer, Malbor, as a trusted aide of Queen Grasith, is naturally our natural ally.”

“But as allies of the Lawful Evil alignment, if we don’t betray them at critical moments, we dishonor the Weiming of Queen Tiamat. Do you understand me?”

“Understood. Betraying good friends is my specialty—I’ve loved doing it since childhood.”

“Oh? Then perhaps you should start by confessing what you’ve done against me. If you can’t explain clearly, hmmm… you’ll learn what serious consequences mean.”

“Hahaha! Just joking! I only stole a few humans you imprisoned and used forged documents with your handprint to collect pay. Nothing else.”

“Is that so? I’ll overlook this for now. Be careful on this mission—devils are infamous for deceit, especially in the Sixth Layer, where under Grasith’s influence, they excel in conspiracy. These are all the high-level combatants we have—if you fail, we’re finished.”

“Don’t worry! I came up from the chaotic lower layers—I’d be someone’s slave mount long ago if I had no skill.”

“Go get Tali and Morax. Bring Barrot’s files with you, study them thoroughly, prepare everything. The mission may fail—but the dragon must return safely.”

…………

“Tali, your Aunt Vylanser is in trouble. Be careful on this mission—don’t let her come to harm. Do you still know where she lives?”

“I don’t just know where she lives—I know she demanded I call her Auntie.”

“Was she close to your mother?”

“She’s the one who captured me and my mother and delivered us to Borg. She claimed my mother had wronged you and must pay the price.”

“Then how did you escape from the Radiant Sect of the Light Church? Don’t tell me you ran away yourself.”

“It was Aunt Vylanser who persuaded them to let me live. They argued for hours inside, then the Radiant Sect’s High Paladin stormed out cursing. After that, I returned with Aunt Vylanser.”

“Alright. Be careful when you go. Learn as much combat experience as you can. Don’t be reckless—if you can’t win, just run.”

After years of training, Sakavi finally admitted one thing: harpies have no emotions—they care only for profit, never reason.

Then Sakavi summoned the silver dragon Morax and instructed him to rein in his dragon beasts, forbidding them from showing off or seeking fights, especially the few red dragon beasts. He had originally planned to assign Sulede, but many dragon beasts reported they feared Morax most—only when he crushed them would they obey.

Silver dragons are usually gentle and avoid fighting, but the dragon beasts had too much energy to burn—always either fighting or planning gang fights. Morax, through superior leadership and overwhelming combat power, became their de facto gang leader.

This time, Sakavi dispatched Sulede, Clausuna, Tali, and all the dragon beasts. He had originally planned to send the remaining fifty high-rankers too, but reconsidered—it was too dangerous. If anything went wrong, he’d be right back to square one.

All dragon beasts can fly and flee faster than anyone else when outmatched. Sulede, as a ranger, is no slouch at escaping either, and years of wandering have given him exceptional battlefield experience.

…………

In a certain layer of the Abyss, at the center of a revolting swamp, two rivers brimming with profane energy converged, washing against a massive, black palace—not built of stone, but stacked from countless enormous, twisted demon skulls, then bound with black basalt.

Clausuna gazed out the window without glass: before her stretched an endless, bubbling, putrid swamp. The water surface was oily and multicolored, floating with rupturing pustules that released nauseating miasmas mixed with sulfur. Twisted, withered trees stretched from the water like the fingers of dying men; hanging from them were not vines, but still-wriggling organs and hissing serpents.

The air reeked of acrid sulfur and the stench of a black dragon’s lair. Among the dead trees, succubi elegantly parted reeds with their pincer-like forelimbs, their eyes gleaming with cunning as they recorded everything; flabbergasts hung upside-down like rotting vultures on the branches, muttering ominous growls.

In the murky water, enormous bloodshot eyes surfaced and vanished intermittently; slimy tentacles occasionally surged up before vanishing again, constantly watching the two outsiders in the castle. This was not organized surveillance—it stemmed from the Abyss’s innate hatred and hunger for anything “non-chaotic.”

For the black dragon, this swamp was deeply unsettling—the chaos made her scales bristle. She had to constantly suppress the urge to roar at the watchers and spit acid, for she knew: if she struck, she would ignite the entire swamp’s madness. Only in such an uncertain place could the safety—or fragile trust—of both negotiating sides be guaranteed.

The devil did not rise, only regarded the visitors with dark-gold eyes.

“Lady Clausuna, a pleasure. Please convey to your Duke Sakavi… Barrot’s greetings. His strength and foresight are sung even in the corridors of the Sixth Layer.”

Clausuna emitted a low, acid-resonating rumble from her throat: “Save the pleasantries, devil. The Duke’s time is precious—so is mine. We know Barrot seeks more… ‘variables’ in Cardow. And we, Qiahao , can provide some… ‘convenience’.”

The devil’s fingers tapped the table lightly, producing a ticking sound, and said: “Convenience? What exactly does your Duke Sakavi offer that interests me? And what does he hope to gain from this?”

Clausuna’s claw impatiently scraped the rock, leaving a sizzling, corroded trail, and declared arrogantly: “Heh heh—heh. Do you think your Queen Grasith knows about these little ‘activities’ of yours? The ogres’ attention needs diverting. If several sturdy fortresses just… turned to ash, wouldn’t that benefit us both?”

The devil offered a smile so precise it was unsettling: “A beautiful… synergy. We can ignite ‘justice’ across that land. But, Lady Clausuna, you must understand: allying with Barrot means sharing… risk. To ensure our joint efforts aren’t… misunderstood, a small, symbolic agreement is necessary.”

Clausuna’s eyes flickered with intense revulsion. She knew the danger of devilish pacts. “Our Duke will sign nothing that binds his will. I bring only strength and promise. If you want ‘goodwill,’ all the ogres’ souls are yours. That is the bottom line.”

The devil’s dark-gold eyes glinted faintly, as if calculating the value of souls, then hesitated: “Impressive… goodwill. Very well. Let us refine the… ‘delivery method’ and schedule for these souls. May our… trust be as steadfast as the order of Hell.”