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"Valaksaks?"
Casalos retracted its wings and sat down again. After thinking for a long time, the only thing it could think of was that the creators of the Dragonclaw Portal network might possess legendary spellcaster abilities. It just so happened that this black dragon's whereabouts were unknown, so it wasn't impossible for it to have come to Westgate City.
"Hmm?" The black dragon shook its head, denying its identity. "No, no, you seem to enjoy riddles? Then I'll play along. Keep guessing, and if you guess right, perhaps I'll take pity on you and lessen your suffering. Hehe..."
"Insi-Ryrax?"
This black dragon already possessed the level 11 warlock rank upon reaching adulthood. Even if it achieved nothing further, it would naturally become a legendary warlock upon reaching its extreme old age, as its true dragon arcane abilities awaken. It's perfectly normal for an ancient dragon to be able to unleash legendary spells. It's just that its age doesn't quite match up, but considering the existence of certain areas with unique time flow within the inner and outer realms, it seems not impossible that Casalos is currently facing it.
93. Let's try to put it together.
Even a discerning eye could see that the black dragon was clearly stalling for time.
Casalos cooperated because it was also stalling for time. The riddle served to both delay the dragon and prevent it from arousing too much suspicion, while simultaneously allowing it to glean its true identity from the dragon's reactions and adjust its battle strategy accordingly.
Grizzinas, Valagamanta, Valvilandor, and even Dorgothus… it searched through every famous black dragon spellcaster name it could recall, but couldn't match the one before it. Perhaps it wasn't one of the formidable creatures listed in the Dragon Chronicles; after all, the differences between this world and the works it remembered were undeniable, and the D&D setting was inherently complex and chaotic, with its support for numerous derivative works, making the emergence of a powerful legendary black dragon spellcaster on its continent of Faerûn not a significant event.
"Hehe... little dragon cub, I didn't expect you to know so much." The black dragon remained unchanged.
Chapter 167
This attack has nothing to do with me. I can only express my apologies and condolences for their unfortunate experience.
"If I hadn't stopped the vampires in time, there might have been far more victims."
At this point, Casalos simply sat down in the square, the clattering sound crushing more neatly repaired white marble slabs. A flicker of heartache crossed the old priest's face, but he quickly regained his composure: "Yes, on behalf of the victims who have already suffered, and those in Westgate who may fall victim to evil in the future, I express my heartfelt gratitude to you. So, may I ask, you have condescended to come here so that we may hand over these wicked and filthy fellows to the Harpists' Alliance?"
“Of course, they call themselves the Children of the Night, and I don’t think anyone is more suitable to deal with them than the followers of the God of Dawn.” Casalos shook his big head: “By the way, you should know how to deal with them so that they don’t come back to life or escape, right? These guys are immortal.”
“We will soak these remains in holy water…” A look of heartache flashed across the old priest’s face again. He roughly understood why Casalos had come here, but as a priest representing the god of light, he could not refuse.
91. Corruption
Losanda, the god of dawn, is a powerful and energetic deity whose hatred of evil borders on naiveté. So much so that his priests, the "Dawn Bearers" who roam the continent of Faerûn, have become passionate idealists… Take these church pronouncements with a grain of salt; don't take them too seriously.
There are indeed a group of idealists among the Dawnbringers who follow the teachings of the Dawn God, but they are definitely a minority. Otherwise, the temple of the Dawn God would not be known in Faerûn for its wealth, extravagance and extreme luxury. They neither produce nor provide services, so where do they get so much money?
Regardless of the circumstances, the Lord of Dawn had no choice but to accept the undead creature delivered to the gates of his temple, no matter how unwilling he was, otherwise his gods might withdraw their favor at any time.
Casalos's decision to hand over the leaders of the Dark Mask to the Temple of Losanda was tantamount to throwing a hot potato to the Dawnbringers—at least one Duke of the Dark Mask remained at large, and due to the organization's inherent secrecy, the loss of its high-ranking leaders would hardly affect its stable middle-level organization and lower-level operatives, who would continue to operate normally, sucking the blood of Westgate City. Only by destroying and crushing these middle and lower-level organizations could the Dark Mask be truly eradicated.
Using the Faceless Ones and a few dukes as a starting point to completely eradicate the Dark Masks from the top down would obviously be much easier, but Casalos can't do that. The Dark Masks have nearly a thousand core members, and if you include the peripheral members, the number is probably several thousand. Is Casalos, a lone dragon, going to the heart of Faerûn just to wipe out the Dark Masks and then smashing Westgate to pieces? What's the point of grinding Harpists reputation then? He'd probably just become a dragon on the Harpists' kill list in no time.
The true idealists among the Dawnbringers are mostly members of the Harpists' Alliance. By dumping the mess on the Dawnbringers, they were essentially dumping it on the Harpists' Alliance. Thus, the Mask of Night became a great gift from Casalos to the Harpists, and that was the true source of prestige...
The old priest, who was suspected to be the Dawn Lord of the temple, quickly figured out Casaloz's purpose. The thought of consuming several large vats of holy water every day to safely "preserve" these nine high-level vampires made him feel heartbroken and breathless. How many gold coins would that be lost!
Damn idealists, damn harpists, doesn't fighting evil cost money? All they do is throw money around. Every penny in the temple is earned through their hard work. God of Dawn, why are we, the bearers of the Dawn, so prone to producing spendthrifts and troublemakers?
The old priest cursed inwardly while maintaining a righteous demeanor, directing the paladins to accept this "gift" from the dragon. Back at the temple, he was preoccupied with how to quickly hand over this mess to the Harpists' Alliance—to safely amass wealth in the lucrative city of Westgate, he had long ago relocated those suspected idealists and members of the Harpists' Alliance from the temple to other cities. Otherwise, with such a large alliance within the city, how could the Harpists' intervention in Westgate have been so difficult?
It wasn't just the temple of the God of Dawn that was like this; the situation was similar in Westgate City... no, in many other major cities in the heart of Faerûn, and in the temples of other benevolent gods. It was hard to tell whether this was a regional characteristic or the corrupting influence of "capital."
“Eleanor Bolton, you’re in charge of dealing with these evil vampires. If you have any questions, you can ask Brother Steele; he has extensive knowledge of undead creatures.”
After much deliberation, the old priest chose the young paladin who had recently arrived at the Westgate Temple. This Dawnbringer was full of vigor, and his eyes often revealed fanaticism. Sooner or later, he would follow the path of the harpists: "Imprison them, limit their power, and then take them to Stardust City. There, you can contact Lord Smollett Dawn, who will guide you onto the right path."
"The path of the harpist," the old pastor added in his heart.
A fanatical light shone again in the young paladin's eyes. He bowed, accepted the order, and departed. No one knew that the Faceless One's whispers had already begun to echo within him. The old priest had misjudged one thing: the fervor in the Bolton Knight's eyes wasn't a yearning for the dawn's light, but an urgent thirst for immense power…
"Madam, are you leaving?"
In the tavern in the port area, the young mage who had volunteered to help Casalos change into clean clothes the night before, frowned as he carried his bag outside. The tavern owner, who was cleaning, looked up somewhat nervously and asked a question.
Last night, this woman, reeking of urine and with soaking wet trousers, stumbled into the tavern, eliciting uproarious laughter from the late-night patrons. Then, enraged, she used magic to make all the patrons collapse on the floor and urinate on themselves, including the innocent owner. He's mopped the tavern floor three times now, but the withered wooden floor still reeks of urine. He doesn't dare confront the young-looking woman, only instinctively uttering his wish: that this plague would leave as soon as possible.
Upon hearing this, the young monk stopped in his tracks.
The tavern owner wanted to slap himself twice. He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Who knew what outrageous things this capricious witch would do to this little tavern with her magic? He was really in for a world of trouble.
"I'm sorry, I was too impulsive last night."
Unexpectedly, the female mage who stopped apologized to him, a mere mortal, and took out two golden dragons from her bag and placed them on the bar: "I hope this can compensate for the loss I caused you. Also, thank you for providing me with accommodation and hot water, and for helping me buy new clothes, otherwise I would have been too embarrassed."
"Ah, that's enough, generous lady, may I ask how I should address you?"
You can call me 'Midnight'.
After finishing his words, the monk pushed open the door and left, walking into the dock under the morning sun and boarding a ship bound for Susar, the capital of Komir.
Completely unaware that he had missed two "important figures," Casalos remained seated in the plaza outside the Temple of the Dawn God. The plaza was surrounded by onlookers, who pointed and whispered at a distance. Occasionally, a bold individual would try to approach, causing the crowd to move slightly closer, only to be frightened back by some unintentional movement of Casalos.
It wasn't waiting for a response from the old priest, nor did it want to be some rare animal for ants to admire. After the handover, it wanted to leave, but after the followers of the God of Dawn retreated to the temple, it suddenly sensed a malevolent force locking onto it. It was certain that if it didn't find and eliminate the source of this force, the moment it took flight, it would be met with a powerful spell.
Chapter 166
These places left her with several wounds.
"What a steadfast warrior, what a strong body! Conquer me, become my blood servant, fight for me, and I will grant you power, wealth, honor, and anything else you desire!"
A dark figure rose into the air, wearing a soft mask that revealed his eyes and chin. The mask was decorated with mysterious patterns, and dark energy emanated from his back, staining the hanging Suren blood-red. Several bats circled around him, chanting inaudibly, as if a dark god had descended.
With the appearance of the Faceless One, the vampires and assassins stopped attacking and retreated to the side, marking the start of a break in the battle.
Casalos chuckled: "Oh, you can give me everything I want?"
"You can't believe it..."
Before the Faceless One could speak, the young mage, upon hearing Casalos's question, cried out anxiously, whether out of concern for Casalos's temptation or for her own life. Unfortunately, she didn't finish her sentence; the floating Faceless One casually waved his hand, silencing the young mage. All that could be seen was her anxiously trying to say something, but no sound came out.
"Yes, I will give you everything you desire, as long as you submit to me, accept my great dark gift, and become a member of the Nightborne!"
"I want five Tiamat heads now, can you pay first?"
"Tiamat...who is that? Five dragon heads?" The Faceless One wondered. This was understandable. The faith in Tiamat, who was disguised as the mysterious lady of the goddess Enser, had not yet spread to the West Gate, nor had she revealed her true identity. People did not yet know this extremely evil Queen of Colors.
"I was just kidding you, you idiot." Casalos threw his greatsword on the ground and looked up at him mockingly.
The Faceless One, caught off guard by the insult, didn't react for a moment. His brow furrowed beneath the mask as he pondered for a short while before erupting in fury: "You're looking for...?"
"hold head high!"
The soaring dragon roar overwhelmed the Faceless One's rage. The massive dragon body, reflecting the moonlight, was fully revealed as it stepped on the ruins. The terrifying aura of Casalos, given by the rampaging blood scales, swept across the entire area of the desecration. Apart from the Faceless One and the two dukes, everyone else within the area was plunged into panic.
The two dukes and the Faceless One weren't much better off. Although they could still move, they were severely affected by the trembling. More importantly, the fear of death, which they hadn't experienced since becoming undead, returned to their minds.
90.Temple
The revelation of Casalos's true form signifies the end of the battle.
A vampire who hasn't even reached the legendary realm is fine for swaggering around in some human cities, but could it possibly be more troublesome than a prime-age Huang Yulong? At this time, the Faceless One is still in its first generation, not a clone of Manson. Its greatest achievement, besides bringing the Dark Mask to the stage of Westgate, is probably its initial possession of a clone Manson had hidden in Westgate's complex underground labyrinth. This latter clone, after spontaneously awakening following Manson's death at the hands of the Harpists' Alliance, caused quite a stir on the continent of Faerûn.
Casalos didn't know if the Faceless One had found the clone and undergone the Embrace yet, and he wasn't interested in investigating further. After all, Westgate wasn't Dragon Territory, so why bother?
With a sweeping motion, he blasted the two cannon fodder assassins on the street into a bloody mist. His left wing slashed out, shattering the group of fools who had previously surrounded him. Then, with a leaping pounce, like a cat catching a butterfly, he slammed the Faceless One, whose movements were restricted and unable to dodge, to the ground. The impact and weight flattened its chest, abdomen, and legs into paper. While spinning to cushion the impact, he extended his right wing, using its sharp trailing edge to sever the lower halves of the two dukes. Casalos withdrew his dragon's might, summoning invisible servants to gather the surviving parts of the nine vampires, which he then lifted with a single claw and flew into the sky.
"Hey, are you just going to leave like that, Dragon!"
The little mage's shouts came from the ground. Casaroz turned around and glanced at the ground beneath her feet, then flicked her tail, leaving a trail of lightning before disappearing into the night.
It now somewhat understood why the male protagonists in the popular adventurer novels and picture books of Faerûn typically slept with every female they encountered—they simply couldn't control their lower bodies. In its human form, influenced by hormones, it had developed a strange attraction and impulse towards the young mage during that brief contact—it was utterly incomprehensible. It didn't know if it was a side effect of the high testosterone levels from its warrior class, or if this was just human nature. Fortunately, after reverting to its dragon form, its mind calmed completely, leaving no trace of turmoil.
As dawn broke and the entire city of Westgate was placed under martial law, Casalos once again swept across the sky carrying the still-living remains of a vampire.
As it passed, it scattered scraps of paper, listing the crimes committed by the Mask of Night in Westgate City, accompanied by concise comic strips to explain the true identities of the three vampires—the Faceless One, the Vicious Duchess, and the Shadow Duke—and the course of last night's battle—of course, in a glamorized manner.
These little things were made by Casaloz overnight using his copying technique. Otherwise, if he hadn't done something good, who would know what had happened? If he hadn't made them more detailed and aesthetically pleasing, now that the colorful dragons have tarnished the reputation of true dragons to the point that everyone hates them, the people of Westgate might have thought Casaloz was an evil dragon who had come into the city to cause trouble.
Casalos had seen plenty of flyers in his previous life, but he never expected that doing it himself to promote his own achievements would actually give the dragon a sense of self-satisfaction, given his arrogant personality.
As for the specific effects, we'll have to wait and see... By then, several of Kenneth's lesser-known bards should have also settled in Westgate City. They will gather material in the city and then compile this battle into an epic of a sacred dragon purifying evil, which will be sung throughout the entire continent of Faerûn.
After circling the West Gate City a few times to ensure that the relatively few leaflets were evenly distributed to every corner of the city, the dragon turned and flew straight to the temple of the god of dawn, Losanda, spreading its wings and slowly landing in the square in front of the temple.
A squad of paladins surged out of the temple, their spears and shields forming a battle formation, their expressions one of unwavering loyalty in defending the temple to the death.
Casalos spread his wings, shook his head, and snapped his iron beak shut. Invisible servants took the vampire remains from his winged paws and arranged them in a row in front of the paladins, also handing them paper leaflets.
"I'm not here to see you. I know you have connections with the Harpists' Alliance. These vampires are the culprits behind their recent heavy losses. The details are written here; you can take a look if you're interested..."
"Excuse me, dragon. We meant no offense. The paladins are just a little nervous. Make way, children, before us lies a benevolent dragon." A gentle voice came from behind the paladins. The paladins hesitated for a moment, then parted to the sides, but did not put away their weapons, merely making way for a narrow passage.
An elderly priest, leaning on his long staff, stepped forward and looked up at Casalos: "I heard about last night's battle from the church of the Mysterious Lady. One of the followers of the Goddess of Magic had the honor of fighting alongside you, and she expressed her praise and gratitude to you."
It was probably not curses and slander. Casalos blinked twice. It remembered that the little mage had been scared to death by the dragon's might, so how could he possibly say anything good about it?
"As for the civilians who were unfortunately caught in the fighting..." The old pastor paused, as if organizing his thoughts.
“Look, it did it.” Casalos’s dragon wings pointed to the Faceless One’s body, which was almost as thin and broken as paper except for its head, quickly distancing himself from it: Where did this old fox come from, trying to extort money from me just because I’m easy to talk to? No way!
"As one of the largest temples in Westgate City, the Temple of Losanda must have treated many of last night's victims. By the God of Dawn, a simple examination would easily reveal that they were affected by negative energy."
Chapter 165
Life.
On the continent of Faerûn, one would likely never encounter being overwhelmed by endless swarms of insects, so many dragons are completely unaware of the danger of doing so, given their incredibly thick plastrons. Quite a few dragons actually find standing upright cool and impressive, as it greatly enhances their field of vision and allows them to fully display their majestic form. Given their arrogant nature, it's quite normal for dragons to enjoy standing upright and showing off, especially certain colorful dragons who revel in swaggering before ants.
Casalos, however, was not buying it, which is why it had never been comfortable with its humanoid form from its previous life until it met Tona and received guidance from her.
The problem is that the half-dragon, exhibiting numerous dragon-like features, remains a bipedal, humanoid form, but has acquired a pair of dragon wings for flight. This makes it impossible for Casalos to continue subjectively viewing its hands as wings. In its half-dragon form, it feels like it's fighting upright in a dragon form. The intense unease, along with the habit of wanting to crouch down and flap its wings, distorts its movements, preventing it from using appropriate combat techniques. It can only perform simple slashes, sweeps, and parries, making it much clumsy compared to its pure human form.
However, without undergoing half-dragon transformation, it cannot fully utilize its high defense, making it difficult to use lightning to suppress vampires that are higher level and more numerous than its humanoid counterparts.
Casalos's fighting style and appearance are two completely different things.
On the surface, it appears to be wearing armor shaped by high-level elements, using the violent power of the elements to wreak havoc and leave the vampires breathless. In reality, it is the armor of the elements that is now attacking the high-level lightning element.
Its power in humanoid form isn't that great; it's just a level 14 warrior. Its additional level 3 mage spellcasting ability is severely hampered by its armor. Any one of the eight vampires on the opposing side is stronger than it. It's more like a high-level lightning elemental summoned by a spellcasting ability equivalent to a level 20 spellcasting class, which, roughly speaking, makes it a level 20 warlock.
It's still a stretch, after all. As beings from the inner realm, higher elemental beings, once summoned into the prime material world, are simultaneously subject to the mysterious restrictions of both the summoned creature and the rules of the prime material world, making it difficult to fully unleash their power, especially when facing a spellcaster. No matter how advanced a summoned elemental being is, if hit by a banishment spell or a dispel spell from a priest, which is derived from divine power, it will most likely be sent back to the elemental realm.
Unfortunately, the vampires besieging Casalos were all spellcasters, and there was also a top-tier existence—a level 15 priest and a level 2 mage—who was hiding in the back row providing spell support.
Fortunately, Casalos has a special method that allows this high-level elemental to unleash its full or even greater power.
The prerequisite for Elemental Shaping Armor is Casaloz's own Elemental Mastery at max level and Elemental Traits. Its essence is to create a channel for magical flow with the summoned elemental creature, thus utilizing the elemental creature's formless nature to achieve fusion. It allows elements to be shaped into armor outside the user, providing additional defense and special abilities. It can also allow summoned elements to hide beneath the user's scales, using the user's high defense, damage reduction, and magic resistance to absorb damage.
Casaloz now effectively acts as the lightning element's "mount," "armor," and "battery." With its high defense and abundant dragon magic, it has transformed into a half-dragon armored vehicle, protecting the summoned high element and allowing it to focus on unleashing spells, showcasing the magical turret style befitting a level 20 warlock.
89. The Faceless One
He just made a few random, pretentious slashes, but he couldn't actually hit the agile vampire assassin. He could only rely on continuous lightning elemental spells to suppress the enemy and buy time.
The only thing Casalos needs to be careful about is using its breath weapon, which regains some functionality after its half-dragon form, to preemptively dissolve the dispel and banish spells cast by the priest that could potentially threaten elemental creatures. Its high magic resistance will likely allow it to resist these non-damaging spells, and the lightning elemental should be safe hiding under its scales. However, who knows what might happen? It's better to be cautious.
Anyway, after the vampire priest failed several times in trying to remove the "elemental armor" from its body, in order to better cooperate with the assassin, it mostly cast enhancement, control and debuff spells, which perfectly met the expectation of stalling for time.
So Casalos had more free time, enough to distract himself from other battlefields: since others were actively helping out, he couldn't just ignore them completely when he had the capacity, as that wouldn't align with Iron Dragon's philosophy.
After observing for a while, it realized that it had worried too much. Anyone who dared to show their face and jump out at this time was indeed skilled. At least two level eight or nine assassins could not do anything to the young mage.
Casalos, with his undeniable combat experience, discovered that the young mage, who appeared only a few years older than Isis, had already lived a life of adventure for many years. While her mage level wasn't particularly high, she possessed an extremely wealth of practical experience. She always managed to find subtle moments to swiftly unleash effective spells to aid herself or restrain the assassins, never falling into the traps of long casting times and focused concentration required for mid- to high-level spells. Like a matador, she consistently led the two assassins by the nose, preventing them from finding any opportunity to re-enter the shadows.
Thus, enhanced by a series of status spells, the young mage's melee combat abilities even overwhelmed the assassins, whose direct fighting skills were not particularly strong. Wielding a dagger in his right hand and a large scythe in his left, he moved like a berserk barbarian, the sound of his enchanted blades slicing through the air sending chills down the spines of the two assassins. As the saying goes, a mage who can't fight in melee isn't a good adventurer. If it had been an academic mage, even one of higher level, the two assassins would have already seized the opportunity to backstab and disembowel him.
He pursed his lips and turned his attention back to the alleyway, which had been reduced to ruins by the crackling lightning.
With the Faceless Ones yet to appear, Casalos considered whether to create a bigger commotion, or have the lightning elementals finish the battle off, and capture these small fry first—the characteristics of the high-ranking priests of the Night Lady and the half-drow rogues were quite obvious. Casalos wouldn't have been able to spot them among the tens of thousands of people in Westgate, but now that they were right in front of him, identifying them wouldn't be difficult.
The two vampire dukes are enough to give it a significant reputation boost with the Harpists. Anyone who's grinded reputation knows that this requires consistent grinding of mobs and daily quests, and its efficiency is no less than that of grinding big bosses. In the real world, big bosses don't respawn, but with the Faceless One still around, it's bound to be unwilling to accept defeat and will rebuild the Mask of Night in preparation for a comeback. So, Casaloz might just be able to come back to Westgate in different suits to grind a few more waves of mobs in the future.
Just then, a wider and more concentrated wave of blasphemy enveloped the neighborhood. The civilians who hadn't yet escaped the battle zone, and those opportunists who had lurked in the shadows hoping to gain some advantage, were doomed. The dense, tangible negative energy seeped through their skin and forced its way into their bodies. The weak civilians were instantly killed, the weaker adventurers fainted, and only a few stronger ones withstood the sudden change in environment, though they were mostly immobilized and could only struggle to stay afloat.
Most adventurers roaming the continent of Faerûn are only around level 5 to 8 in terms of overall rank. How could they possibly withstand the full force of a vampire's desecration, which is almost at the legendary level?
In this desecrated land, the Vicious Duchess, the Shadow Duke, and several counts and lieutenant vampires immediately became as if they had been injected with chicken blood, their bodies surrounded by a blood-red aura, their strength increased, their speed increased, and their bodies became more resilient.
Even the two cannon fodder assassins on the street received buffs, managing to recover slightly from the little mage who was being suppressed by the ultimate desecration.
Chapter 164
Jue, having been provoked into fighting a half-dragon warrior and being at a disadvantage, truthfully reported to his master, the Faceless One.
The Faceless One, who harbors a perverse possessiveness toward the wicked duchess and is arrogant and extreme, will surely personally don his armor and rush to the scene after receiving the news to teach the arrogant "half-dragon" an unforgettable lesson. The Faceless One constantly fantasizes about finding a powerful warrior or paladin to "recruit" as his fourth full-time fighting duchess.
The Vicious Duchess is in charge of assassinations and eliminating dissidents, the Shadow Duke is in charge of extortion, and the Whisper Duke is in charge of intelligence. Now, it seems that the Masked Night is about to completely control the entire Westgate City, but there is still no general who can fight head-on, which has always been the Faceless Ones' weakness.
By the time the Faceless One proved with his own life that the so-called half-dragon was a real dragon capable of going toe-to-toe with "Flying Flame," Fultan had already boarded a ship bound for Zambia and was far away from Westgate.