Chapter 685: The Tomb of a Thousand Throats

The Gulaesh Clan, Priestess Palace.

The hall stretched endlessly; even the evening’s afterglow could not penetrate, leaving it utterly pitch-black.

“My Lady Priestess, what should we do!?”

A sturdy female Land Naga, clad in armored padding beneath her scale-mail, knelt low, pleading in panic.

The only light in the hall came from the sacrificial altar atop the central raised platform, where the hunched old priestess devoutly lit the ritual items upon the table.

Seeing the Priestess seemed unmoved, the Naga commander shouted again:

“This is our Mirror Desert’s affair—whether Gulaesh or Bular Clan, we are all Land Nagas. No human has ever had the right to interfere, to destroy us!!”

“My Lady Priestess! One incident invites another. That man is terrifying—he must have a purpose in coming to our humble Mirror Desert. If we don’t stop him, the consequences will be endless!”

“We Gulaesh Clan cannot sit idle. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth. If they can hire outside help, do they think we cannot?”

Flames on the altar surged violently, sparks crackling.

The old priestess slowly, wearily turned her head toward the commander below.

“How much did the Campbell family pay you?”

The commander below froze as if struck by lightning, her face turning ashen as she slammed her forehead onto the red carpet.

“My Lady Priestess, I act solely for the Gulaesh Clan! I have no second thoughts! This is all for the revival of the Nagas!”

The old woman drew a deep breath: “What were the Campbell family’s terms?”

“Fifty children, before maturity, delivered monthly—regardless of race. And after reclaiming the Tomb of a Thousand Throats, we must share all research and exploration findings.”

The priestess showed no reaction to the first condition.

But the moment “Tomb of a Thousand Throats” was spoken, her face twisted in horror, her eyes locking onto the commander below: “You told her? How dare you!”

“It’s not true, My Lady Priestess! The Campbells have spies everywhere. Our sudden emergence of four High-Stage Seventh-Rank warriors—how could we hide what’s inside the Tomb of a Thousand Throats!? The human man the Bular Clan hired is tyrannical; we’re on the brink of annihilation—we had no choice but to risk it!”

Crack!

Sparks erupted.

Orange warmth flared around the altar, yet could not extend further, failing utterly to dispel the palace’s darkness.

With the firelight behind her, the old Naga’s weathered face was cloaked in a dark, brooding shadow.

“.Let their people come to me.”

The commander below’s face lit up with joy.

But then she stiffened, hesitating: “My Lady Priestess… it’s not them coming to us—it’s we who must go to them.”

The old woman’s face twitched.

“The Tomb of a Thousand Throats?”

Luo De asked skeptically, sprawled lazily on a soft cushion resembling a beanbag inside his tent, legs spread wide.

One hand cradled Tally’s nape, occasionally playing with her pale, cool earlobe.

Tally was easily tickled, giggling as she chewed her breakfast.

Her teeth dragged slowly, inevitably nipping him.

Luo De had thick skin; he knew the succubus was doing it on purpose, and didn’t care.

Though his relationship with Tally had eased and she’d been allowed to move back into the Forest Guard Hut, his dietary controls remained firm.

Two meals a day—morning and evening—nothing more.

Even last night, while he was with Eve, she could only watch from the side, mining quietly, occasionally sneaking a snack.

Land Nagas practiced monogamy; Eve despised polygamous behavior.

So even when she stole bites, she waited until Eve was dazed, eyes rolling back, then licked Luo De’s skin once.

“A legend of the Gulaesh Clan.”

Eve cast a cold glance at the giggling succubus, turning her head away in annoyance:

“The Thousand Throats—legend says it was an extinct ancient beast of the desert. Its appearance heralded endless sandstorms and famine, devouring all life. Can’t you come to me without bringing this succubus? I find her irritating.”

“Think of her as a puppy or rabbit. I feed her every day.”

“Yes, Tally is Master’s pet puppy~~ Woof woof~~ Lick lick lick—”

The succubus, shameless, pinched her cheeks with two tiny pink fists, feigning cuteness.

Luo De smiled, glancing at the girl standing far away.

The Naga maiden had already donned her bustier—though “bustier” was generous; it was merely two black strips of cloth connected by thin cords.

Wrapped beneath her chest, drawn across her torso, lifting the two massive bunnies, then tied behind her neck—resembling a bikini.

The slight lift of the bustier amplified the visual impact of her curves.

Her waist, exposed in standing posture, was slender, toned, wild—utterly intoxicating.

Sensing someone’s gaze,

Eve curled her lips. As she pulled on her snug linen undershirt, she deliberately left the buttons fastened, slipping it over her head as-is.

The fitted shirt was naturally tight.

Unquestionably, it snagged on her broad, commanding chest, squeezing out a fleeting glimpse of flesh—then vanished again as her waist twisted.

“The internal organs of those four High-Stage Seventh-Rankers had completely dried out—almost no moisture left. Very strange. I suspect they took something from the tomb.”

Luo De admired her figure.

“I’ll go in too.”

“Not yet. The initial excavation is still underway. The Gulaesh Clan won’t give up—they’re probably brewing some scheme. By the way, Mother will likely arrive this afternoon. Dress nicely. And turn this succubus into a man—or an ugly monster.”

Eve’s face didn’t flush.

For a Land Naga in a matriarchal society, having a woman loitering around her man was deeply humiliating.

The warmth of morning ended quickly.

The newly seized territory had many issues to resolve; Eve left the tent first.

After filling Tally’s bulging mouth, both were energized and did not wait passively for the Gulaesh Clan’s next move.

Once they learned the location of the enemy palace, Luo De chose to strike first.

[Repulsion Technique] exploded beneath him, launching him skyward; [Burning Wind Teleportation] streaked across the horizon in a trail of rolling black smoke, swiftly vanishing.

Among Land Nagas, females vastly outnumbered males. Strong, handsome men were always in demand, no matter where.

Many stared blankly at the black smoke in the sky, too stunned to react.

When they finally came to their senses, the Nagas’ gazes toward Princess Eve shifted—now filled with greater awe.

Their princess truly possessed extraordinary power—she had tamed such a man.

No wonder she was the Bular Clan’s next heir!

Eve naturally sensed these glances. She relished them.

Immediately, pride lit her face; she lifted her chin, straightened her back.

At that moment, wind and sand churned, their howling sounding like the murmurs of some creature.

Eve paused, glancing at her adjutant.

“Did you speak?”

The adjutant shook her head, bewildered: “I didn’t speak, and I heard nothing, Princess Eve.”

“Really? Maybe I imagined it… Wait—again. Are you sure you didn’t hear it?”

“No, Princess Eve. Are you tired?”

Eve ignored her, scanning the surroundings.

Workers in the settlement, mages constructing fortifications, soldiers on patrol, supply officers organizing rations, crackling sparks.

Finally, her gaze fixed on the arched entrance of the Tomb of a Thousand Throats.

(End of Chapter)