Chapter 295: Shadow‑Soul Prince

On the watchtower of Iron Jaw Fortress, the black‑backed red‑eyed banner of the San Ta Lin Society hung stiffly in the scorching night wind, as if even the fabric had been drained of life by the desert. A sentinel, leaning on a crossbow cannon, was dozing when a deep hum rose from deep within the clouds—it was not thunder, but the vibration of some ancient creature tearing the air with its wings.

"Enemy attack! A dragon!" he roared, pulling the alarm, but the final syllable was drowned in the deafening thunder.

Abu Longruise swooped down from the clouds, the hurricane rolled up by his wings dragging sand and gravel, scraping countless sparks from the iron spikes on the wall. He deliberately reduced his size, yet still occupied most of the courtyard; when his dragon claws struck the ground, the arcs of electricity instantly melted the bases of three automatic crossbow cannons, the gears and chains turning into crimson molten iron that flowed across the ground. The Blue Dragon lifted its head, its deep‑blue scales shimmering in the moonlight like quenched metal, each edge alive with tiny electric serpents, the lightning coiled between its horns casting its shadow onto the fortress's outer wall, like an enraged deity.

"Grumak!" the Blue Dragon's roar resonated with thunder, shaking the chandelier atop the great hall so that it crashed down, "Move your rats' claws off your weapons, unless you want this iron coffin to become their furnace!"

When Iron Jaw Lord Grumak emerged from the shadows, the teeth of his chainsaw sword were humming like a venomous snake spitting venom, static‑charged and attracting fine sand. His black‑steel heavy armor was etched with Rune that suppress magic, and the anti‑electric crystal ocular implant in his left eye glowed crimson, like a hellish gem set into a steel skull.

"The ancient Blue Dragon…" his mechanized voice sounded like rusted gears grinding, "According to the San Ta Lin Society's records, the last Blue Dragon that dared to provoke us was turned into a battering ram."

He sneered, "You should be grateful you still have some use."

Abu Longruise expelled two arcs of electricity from his nostrils, melting the stones at his feet into glass beads, "Human, your arrogance is as fragile as your fortress."

His dragon tail swept across the wall, shattering it into ruins, "I smell the Red‑robed Mage's stench—those cockroaches that dig through sand all day, and what they hide… a Juan Ce Long."

Grumak's artificial eye narrowed slightly, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the hilt of his chainsaw sword, "Oh? I didn't know you'd clashed with the Red‑robed Mage? Or is it for that Juan Ce Long?"

The Blue Dragon's gaze darkened, "He killed my daughter!"

That foolish, clueless youngster was killed by the opponent without even a splash of waves. Abu Longruise, shocked by the Juan Ce Long's power, had to change tactics and plot slowly.

Regarding the Red‑robed Mage and the San Ta Lin Society, the two forces that almost dominate the eastern desert, Abu Longruise also knew their dynamics. He knew the two organizations had been in constant conflict.

The San Ta Lin Society in the desert primarily earned revenue by collecting protection fees and raiding caravans; before the Red‑robed Mage arrived, they had amassed huge profits.

But the Red‑robed Mage also coveted this prize; they dispatched the powerful Nine‑ring Necromancer Ba Su, who erected a scarlet spire in the desert, using those Arcane Power puppets to play a black‑on‑black game, wildly crushing the San Ta Lin Society's territory.

He knew Grumak had long harbored deep hatred for the Red‑robed Mage and would certainly agree to him.

Grumak realized it was revenge that drove him to recruit troops.

However, though the Red‑robed Mage is detestable and has seized many of the San Ta Lin Society's operations, Grumak still lacks confidence to wage war against them. If both are crippled, in the end we can only afford a justice organization like the Harpist. Moreover, he also has a more important task.

As he opened his mouth to refuse, a cold whisper suddenly pierced his mind— the voice sounded like a rusted blade scraping bone, carrying the decayed aura of the Shadow Realm: "Agree to him… let thunder tear through the Red‑robed's defenses…"

The Iron Jaw Lord's pupils suddenly constricted, the data streams of his mechanical eye flashing wildly. How did he suddenly appear?

He slammed his hand onto his temple, his knuckles whitening from the pressure, yet the voice kept eroding his consciousness: "Agree to him." "Tomorrow night at midnight." Grumak suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse as if an invisible hand had strangled his throat, "The sandstorm will mask the thunder… but the Arcane Power warehouse beneath the Red‑robed stronghold belongs to the San Ta Lin Society, and the Juan Ce Long's corpse is yours."

Abu Longruise's dragon eyes narrowed to slits, "A corpse? I want its soul annihilated by thunder, not a pile of rotten flesh! Don't play tricks, human… your iron skin can't block my breath."

The Blue Dragon suddenly spread its wings, the stored lightning bursting from between its scales, bathing the entire fortress in a ghastly white. A bolt of lightning breath tore through the dome, blasting the Red‑robed watchtower on the distant dunes into a charred skeleton. Amid the rising smoke, it transformed into a flash of thunder, soaring skyward, leaving only a thunder‑like warning:

"Tell your assassin—whoever dares touch my prey, I'll weld their bones into the city walls!"

When the last strand of lightning vanished into the clouds, Grumak staggered and collapsed onto the Iron Throne, cold sweat soaking the shirt beneath his heavy armor. The secret room's hidden door slid open silently, a mass of black humanoid mist rose from the shadows, its body beneath a gray robe seeming formed of smoke, only its eyes burning with a violet underworld fire.

"You performed well." The mist's voice sounded like sandpaper scraping dry bone, "Even the old dragon didn't notice… the 'ally' in your mind."

The Iron Jaw Lord seized the obsidian goblet on the table and hurled it at the shadow; the goblet pierced the illusion and shattered against the wall, "If you dare crawl into my mind again, I'll shove your shadow into a hell‑fire furnace!"

The mist chuckled low as it solidified, its fingers brushing the pulsating blue veins on the lord's neck, "Anger… is such sweet nourishment. But don't forget your status; if you're of no use to me, I don't mind turning you back into a pitiful slave again."

Grumak gritted his teeth; before he became Xireike's faithful hyena, he had been a test subject of the Red‑robed Mage, a lowly slave. Hence he despises all Spellcaster.

Yet the Spellcaster before him was immobile.

Because the Grand Bishop of the Dark Sun Church personally instructed him to obey all of the other's directives.

!

Obey him.

"The boy bearing cursed fire is inside the Red‑robed Mage's stronghold," the mist's voice turned indifferent.

"Capture him, and never let him escape the Ennoak Desert, or we'll lose our lock on him; the cursed fire will devour any prophetic spell that targets him."

Grumak could no longer endure the other's touch; his chainsaw sword swung out violently, but only sliced a wisp of purple mist. Brev's voice echoed from all directions, "Capture that boy… his cursed fire is prey of my lord Saar, also the Dark Sun's desire… and you, if you fail the mission, will become Saar's goddess's most cherished puppet…"

The secret room's shadows suddenly contracted, the Iron Jaw Lord stared at the blood‑red Rune that materialized on the wall—a phantom of a boy bound by chains, pale flame dancing in his palm. He wiped the blood foam from his mouth's corner, the data stream of his mechanical eye finally freezing on an encrypted intel line:

"Target codename: Cursed‑Fire Child. Last sighting location: within the scarlet spire of the Red‑robed stronghold."

Grumak lowered his head, gritting his teeth, "Yes, esteemed Shadow‑Soul Prince—Brev Tanshul."

(End of Chapter)