Chapter 123: Fishing in Troubled Waters (Part II)

Without any warning, Patilina launched her attack.

A dazzling flash streaked through the dark underground world, like a sharp blade tearing through the shadows. In the next moment, tongues of flame erupted, engulfing the sturdy walls of the gray dwarves’ city in a fiery barrage. The walls, strong enough to withstand magical assaults, trembled under Patilina’s strike. The cannonballs mercilessly tore through the outer defenses, striking deep into the fortress like heavy iron hammers. Under the fierce shockwave, the thick walls bulged outward, and in the next instant, a deafening explosion erupted, spewing a scorching storm that scattered like a fountain.

In a mere instant, a large hole was blown open in the gray dwarves’ once impregnable walls. The soldiers stationed atop became nothing more than unrecognizable fragments, scattered in all directions alongside the falling debris.

Seeing Patilina’s powerful blow, the paladins erupted in cheers. On the other side, the morale of the gray dwarves plummeted. They had never before witnessed such a fierce artillery assault in the Shadowlands. The gray dwarves’ walls were their pride and honor, yet Patilina’s single strike had shattered that honor to dust.

But this was far from over.

Countless meteors streaked across the heavens, crashing thunderously upon the rocky ceiling above the gray dwarves. Flames and sparks flew as dust and massive shards of stone rained down like a relentless storm. The gray dwarves, having lost their former valor, scattered desperately to evade this sudden calamity from above.

At that moment, Lox raised his longsword high, and soon a holy light descended from the sky, enveloping all before him.

“Warriors of the God of War, raise your weapons and show the great deity your courage! In the name of the sacred, we shall utterly annihilate these evil beasts lurking in darkness! Justice will prevail!”

Accompanied by hymns of praise, the paladins charged into Brandon Stone City, ushering in a new chapter of battle.

The entire Brandon Stone City had descended into chaos. Though the gray dwarves’ formidable combat prowess ensured their safety, it was impossible to patrol every corner. In the Shadowlands, reproduction rates and population numbers were always their greatest weakness. Even with their might, the gray dwarves could only secure fixed defense lines. If the enemy adopted a strategy of multi-point, simultaneous assault, the gray dwarves would be left grasping at straws.

Setting aside how furious Kardek would be upon learning the frontline had truly been breached, behind Brandon Stone City, in a quiet place contrasting the noisy battlefield, a series of shadows silently evaded all eyes and slipped into the Overseer’s residence.

“Never expected this. Kardek actually sent everyone out,” Jean said casually as he strolled into the luxuriously decorated hall, his golden eyes sweeping the surroundings. In an instant, the gray dwarves’ carefully crafted secret tunnels were fully revealed under the scanning power of the Evil Eye. Behind him, the alien creatures silently crawled through tunnels and along ceilings, emitting nightmare-like low growls, slow yet relentless, spreading death in all directions. Like the most loyal guards, they gathered around Jean, as if courtiers clustering around their dark king.

Jean extended his hand.

The elaborately adorned fireplace crumbled into dust before the surging magic, and the hidden deadly traps vanished without even having time to function. The gray dwarves’ proud defenses were utterly destroyed by Jean’s merciless strike, leaving only a pitch-black passage before him—a path leading to treasure.

But this was merely the beginning.

As Jean stepped into the tunnel, the dark eye sockets of the metal statues lining the corridor flickered with faint magical light. In the next moment, they straightened, brandishing their weapons, launching a relentless assault on the intruders who dared trespass into the gray dwarves’ sacred grounds.

Facing the attack from the gray dwarf constructs, Jean merely sneered and snapped his fingers. Immediately, the howling aliens surged forward, clashing fiercely with the constructs.

These ancient constructs showed no fear in the face of these harbingers of death. Created solely to destroy and protect, even as the aliens’ sharp claws tore through their bodies and their blade-like tails severed limbs, they resolutely pressed onward to fight.

That was their very purpose.

A construct raised its longsword and swung hard at Jean, but before the blade could descend, bolts of crackling lightning erupted from Jean’s hand, striking the two-meter-tall “transformer” squarely. With the roar of thunder, the massive construct was sent flying backward, crashing into the wall and instantly reduced to a heap of scrap metal.

Soon, Jean passed through the construct-guarded passage and arrived before the treasure chamber beneath Brandon Stone City. Unlike the previous defenses bristling with constructs, before him now lay only a narrow bridge seemingly forged entirely from steel. Across the bridge, a massive steel door shaped like a gray dwarf’s face stood silently, its timeless gaze seeming to pierce all.

Had this been a Hollywood film, for artistic effect Jean might have had to disarm various traps like Indiana Jones, then, relying on his extensive historical knowledge, search for clues to unlock the treasure chamber, followed by a dazzling series of adventures before finally opening the door.

But reality is different from cinema. Though Jean lacked a key and had no idea how to unlock the door, it hardly mattered—he had a far easier method.

“Squeak! Squeak!”

Two goblins screamed as they ran up behind Jean. They first bowed respectfully to their master, then turned and stepped onto the iron bridge, swinging their arms as they jumped forcefully—no one understood what they were doing, except Jean.

In the dungeon system, goblins are the weakest yet most crucial race. Their combat power might be barely equal to that of a chicken, but only they can claim land and turn it into dungeon territory. Without these goblins expanding Jean’s domain, no matter how powerful his units or magic, it would all be for naught.

“Hum…”

With a soft sound, a red glow appeared along the edges of the iron bridge. In the next moment, strange and sinister runes began to glow line after line on the once bare steel. The eyes of the massive door connected to the bridge flashed with a brilliant crimson light, replacing the original yellow magic glow. Simultaneously, a bright red area appeared on the dungeon faction map before Jean’s eyes.

“Good.”

Satisfied upon seeing the map of the dungeon, Jean nodded and crossed the steel bridge, stepping toward the treasure chamber’s door.

This place was originally the gray dwarves’ strongest defense. Only those bearing the bloodline of the gray dwarf ancestors had the right to enter, where they would undergo the ancestors’ trials. Only after passing could one enter. Any bold thief attempting to trespass would be utterly incinerated by the iron bridge.

But now, its master had changed. With Jean’s arrival, the tightly shut steel door emitted a series of “clack-clack” sounds. Then it opened wide its iron mouth as the thumb-thick chains trembled and slowly retracted, revealing the heavily fortified outer door forged of adamantine. Following that, a circular marble inner door silently slid aside, respectfully presenting the long-sealed treasure to its new master.

“Not bad…”

Entering the treasure chamber, Jean whispered softly as he gazed upon the riches before him. Though the ruins of Masoblas had yielded no small amount of treasure, there was a world of difference between unearthing relics from beneath ruins and admiring neatly arranged treasures in a complete chamber.

Golden coins gleamed like flowing rivers, piling high to cover the floor like a radiant carpet. The walls, adorned with adamantine and mithril, displayed powerful weapons and armor imbued with magical light, all bearing the unique style of the gray dwarves. Within the neatly stacked chests glittered dazzling pendants, gemstone-studded gloves, cloaks woven from golden and silver threads, and bizarrely shaped jewelry.

Among these, the most precious was a scroll placed at the chamber’s center. It recorded the ancient gray dwarves’ forging techniques, architectural methods, and lost secrets of metalwork. The concept of “technology is priceless” seemed eternal, transcending time and worlds.

“Take it all back.”

Jean casually gave the order, allowing the goblins to begin their frenzied plunder of the treasure chamber. Then he turned toward his true prize—a bust resting among the treasure piles. It depicted a stern-faced man with glaring eyes, his furious gaze seeming to burn with endless wrath, as if determined to utterly destroy everything he beheld.

“This is it.”

Jean picked up the statue and examined it carefully. No words were needed—he could feel the powerful fluctuations emanating from within. The force, like a whirlwind, seemed capable of sweeping away all and tearing apart anything nearby.

Yet what drew Jean’s attention was not the power hidden within the statue, but a line of inscription carved beneath the throne.

“War. War never changes.”

Murmuring the words, Jean narrowed his eyes.

He already knew whose saint this statue represented.

(To be continued.)