Caesar stared at the line of text on the System panel for a long time.
[Current Status: Drowsy (7050/10000)]
Waking up already?
According to Caesar's experience from his previous life, shouldn't those old men who live in rings, necklaces, or bones have to suck Yang Qi for three to five years, draining the host into a husk before finally handing over the Flame Mantra? Viola's progress bar is only at seventy percent, so how is he starting to come back to life...
Could it be because the quality of that Soul just now was too high? After all, he was an LV.39 cult leader; even if he was a fraud, the Soul itself couldn't be faked.
Caesar extended his claw and flicked the white sharp claw.
*Ding.*
The sound was crisp, but there was no reaction.
"Hello?" Caesar called out tentatively.
There was only the sound of whistling wind and sand around him; no one answered.
Caesar frowned, leaned in a bit closer, and lowered his voice: "Old Bone? Viola? Are you awake? If you're not dead, give me a squeak."
"Wake up, Cecilia!"
Still no movement.
"Earth Dragon, were you calling me?"
Instead, a round, silver dragon head leaned in from the side. Cecilia blinked her large eyes, looking perfectly innocent.
Caesar pushed her face away with a claw.
"Who was calling you! Go away!"
He was a bit impatient and shouted into the air again.
"Old Geezer?"
*Bang!*
A muffled thud.
Caesar's forehead took a solid hit; the [sharp claw] had moved on its own and knocked against his skull.
The force wasn't great, but it was extremely insulting.
"Ow!"
Caesar held his head, grimacing in pain.
Beside him, Cecilia's dragon eyes widened as she looked from Caesar to the bone claw on his chest, her expression looking as if she had seen a ghost.
Fine, looks like he's really awake.
The previously lifeless sharp claw was now glowing with a faint soul fire. The pale blue flame flickered slightly, seemingly expressing some kind of dissatisfaction.
Immediately afterward, the bone claw actually broke free from its cord and floated into mid-air. It didn't make a sound but quickly flew to the ground and began scratching on the thick layer of dust.
*Shasha...*
A few seconds later, the bone claw flew back and hung itself on Caesar's chest again, as if nothing had happened.
Caesar looked down and saw two words written crookedly in the Common Tongue on the sand:
[People.]
Caesar's gaze sharpened.
Someone's coming?
He immediately shut his mouth and activated his sonar. He had been so focused on interacting with this Old Geezer that he hadn't noticed the movement in the distance.
Upon sensing, there was indeed a problem.
About two kilometers away, the sounds of four people were approaching at high speed. They were moving fast and with a clear purpose, heading straight for this massive crater.
Reinforcements from the Plasma Cult?
No.
Andorn, the bishop, is stone-cold dead. The remaining small fry were scared out of their wits by the commotion earlier; how could they have the courage to run back?
Then who is it?
The Osterburg city guards? Or adventurers from the guild?
The commotion from that Ghost-type Z-Move was simply too large; it must have alerted half of Osterburg. It would be stranger if no one came to investigate.
I just didn't expect them to arrive so quickly.
"Quick, Fusion!"
Caesar kicked Cecilia, who was still dazed.
"Oh, oh!"
Cecilia snapped out of it and hurriedly pulled a huge black cloak out of her Storage Ring—
"I'll form the head!"
Twin Dragon Warrior Hakime, Transformation!
The dust had not yet completely settled, and the air was filled with the choking smell of earth and blood.
Caesar glanced at the bodies of the cultists scattered throughout the ruins and any potential loot they might have, but he had to give up.
No time to pick them up.
The two small dragons had already stacked together, returning to that tall and mysterious "Hakime" form.
Under the cover of the dust, Caesar controlled Hakime's body and dove into the nearby woods that hadn't been completely destroyed... Less than five minutes after Caesar left, four figures broke through the sky-filling yellow sand and stopped at the edge of the giant sinkhole.
Leading them was a young human male wearing a suit of light mithril armor, with a broken sword hanging at his waist and an ancient-looking metal necklace around his neck. He was panting heavily and covered in sweat, clearly having sprinted all the way here.
"We're here... *huff*... this is it."
Siniel supported himself by his knees, and as he looked at the scene before him, his pupils contracted sharply.
There should have been an abandoned Arsenal here; though dilapidated, at least there were buildings. But now, the entire factory area was gone, replaced by a deep pit over a hundred meters in diameter.
The bottom of the pit was filled with quicksand, still flowing slowly like a giant maw waiting to devour someone. Scattered across the quicksand were countless bodies wearing the robes of the Cult. Some had been smashed into pulp, some torn to pieces, and others looked as if their moisture had been sucked dry, turning them into mummies.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and a nauseating burnt odor.
"My god..."
The Dwarf warrior Dwarf planted his axe on the ground and stared with bulging eyes. "What kind of monster did these cultists provoke? This is too gruesome. Look at that one; his head was stuffed into his chest cavity."
The elf mage Felix frowned, covering her nose with a handkerchief while raising her staff in her other hand. The gemstone at the tip emitted a faint blue light.
"Be careful, the elements here are extremely chaotic," Felix's voice was cold. "That phenomenon of the world changing color just now was definitely not something ordinary magic could cause."
The priest Haite, who arrived last, was a middle-aged man. His face was pale as he looked at the slaughterhouse before him. He silently made the sign of the cross on his chest and began a low-voiced prayer.
Ever since they formed their Hero Party last year to begin adventuring, this was the first time the four of them had encountered such a horrific scene.
Although he called himself a hero, the leader Siniel was not a true hero, as he had not yet obtained any of the three Divine Artifacts: the "shield of truth," the "sword of ideals," or the "Spear of Falsehood."
Legend has it that the original elemental god—the Nine-Faced Dragon God who represents the element of "Dragon"—repaired the broken world and created four divine dragons.
Time, Space, and Matter.
And that nameless Fourth Dragon.
The Fourth Dragon fell to the mortal realm, and its remains transformed into three artifacts: the shield of truth, the sword of ideals, and the Core of Falsehood.
These are the [Three Sacred Artifacts] that legendary tales say ended the "Crimson Moon" and were used to subjugate generation after generation of Devil Kings.
According to 9527's original plan, Siniel should have followed the trail to find the Plasma Cult's stronghold, disrupted their ritual, and obtained new clues about the Three Sacred Artifacts.
The script was already written.
Over the past few days, they had been running all over the city. The elf mage Felix had keenly discovered that the basic material [Arcane Leather] on the market was almost completely sold out.
Investigating the clues, the four of them found ritual nodes for sacrificial ceremonies throughout the city and finally locked their sights on this abandoned Arsenal.
But before they could act, this place blew up!
That loud bang just now was like an explosion spell going off right next to Siniel's ear, making his head ring.
In an instant, dust and sand flew everywhere. Then came that heart-palpitating burst of dark aura—
What on earth... is going on?
Siniel looked at the carnage before him and began calling out to his Cheat in his mind.
"9527, scan the scene!"