Somewhere in Eternal Star City.
It was in pain.
The air here was cold and moist. Its skin was wrinkled, its six limbs were weak, its abdomen was shriveled, its lips were trembling, and its teeth were blunt.
Only the darkness around it made it feel at ease.
It raised its right hand, trying to change its position, but inadvertently hit the metal cage.
A sharp pain came from the surface of its skin that had just touched the metal.
It opened its mouth and let out a meaningless howl of pain.
This damned cage.
The magic seal on it was rigorous, meticulous, comprehensive, perfect, and flawless — it was the standard product of the Alchemy Tower.
It did not know whether it was the work of the Confinement Research Institute or the Spell Laboratory.
It was probably the former.
In the extinct Alchemy Tower, only this faction that had been in decline for a long time would study this kind of magic cage with a single function.
For example, the cage that was currently trapping him here.
It did not know how long it had endured such days, and even its sense of time had become numb. It even suspected that if it went on like this, it would one day even forget its own name.
It was fed once a month, given a fixed electric shock every month, and had to complete work all the time.
Under such circumstances, it began to miss its main body — it still remembered the pain when it was cut off from the main body, and the heart-wrenching wails and screams from the main body's mind.
Even many days and nights after that, even when it was its turn to be cut off, the pain was not comparable to the excruciating pain of being separated from the main body.
It really wanted … to return to its main body.
If it remembered correctly, the main body should be locked up in the City of Triumph — the damn capital of the human empire. The country had already been torn apart, leaving only a small piece of territory. It was so weak, but that group of humans still shamelessly called themselves an empire.
Did the weak not deserve to die?
Thinking of this, its mind, which was a little muddled because it did not know how long it had been locked up, suddenly moved.
That's right, hasn't it been a while since the main body sent anything over from Victorious City? Whether it was letters or items, there was nothing.
The mental connection between the main body and the main body seemed to have been broken for some time?
Humans no longer used it?
Impossible. It did not believe that those evil humans would let it or the main body take a break — they would only endlessly, without knowing the bottom line, squeeze its value dry.
Did something happen to the main body? This thought flashed through its mind.
No … Although the main body was also imprisoned, at least it was intact in the City of Triumph. The Empire knew its value, and the Imperial Prince had even tried to communicate with the main body — but how could the prideful main body respond to a lowly human's request for a trade? So they were still using itself to communicate.
Although the empire wasn't as powerful as it was in the past, the humans would definitely protect the main body. As long as Victorious Return wasn't destroyed overnight, the main body would be safe.
One day, it would return to its main body … At that time, it would once again be as powerful as it was in the past.
Then, it had to carefully hide itself and strengthen itself. Most importantly … it had to find a way to restrain those Mystics.
It did not want to experience the humiliation of being captured and imprisoned as a slave a second time.
Especially that damned Mystic.
Giza Streelman … If the human outside the Cage Door had not mentioned this name recently, it would have almost forgotten about it.
It gritted its teeth with a heart full of hatred. It would never forget the feeling of its flesh boiling and exploding in front of the Mystic, the feeling of groveling at the Mystic's feet.
At this moment, a familiar swelling sensation came from his abdomen.
'It's here …' it thought.
The humiliation of being a slave and being forced to work as a slave surged into its heart once again.
It did not know which severed limb it would be this time.
At the top of the metal cage, the bell rang violently and urgently at the right time.
* Clack. *
The metal cage door opened.
It used all its strength to roar at the cage door, trying to express its hatred and malice.
The sharp pain, as if it was being pricked, attacked it again.
It knew that it had to leave the cage to complete the task, or else the pain would only become more intense.
Just like hundreds and thousands of times in the past, it reluctantly climbed out of the cage with great difficulty.
The sharp pain slowly subsided.
Its abdomen squirmed, and the contents inside surged up its throat and reached its mouth.
The swelling sensation gradually disappeared.
It opened its mouth full of sharp teeth and spat out a piece of paper in the darkness.
'Another piece of paper …' It thought in annoyance, 'These stupid humans, can't they send something interesting over next time?'
A young man in a white robe grabbed the piece of paper and pulled it out of its mouth roughly.
'Rude humans.'
The sharp pain appeared again, and it howled in pain. At the same time, it knew that it should return to the cage.
With a heart full of humiliation and pain, it climbed back into the cage.
The pain disappeared.
The young man lit a lamp, and the dazzling light made it grimace. It raised its claws to cover its eight pairs of eyes.
'Light.
It hated the most. '
Fortunately, after the young man saw the piece of paper clearly, he immediately extinguished the lamp.
In the darkness, within its field of vision, the young man in a white robe put down the piece of paper in his hand. He spoke in a much more solemn voice than usual, "Things are somewhat beyond our imagination."
"Oh?" An old and hoarse voice rang.
It remembered this voice. During the years when it was brought away from the City of Triumph, many humans were in charge of managing its cage, but this old voice seemed to have been in charge for a longer time.
"First, the prince was intercepted by Lampard at the border … but it seemed to be a daunting experience, and now the diplomat group is heading to Dragon Clouds City under Lampard's escort.
"You know I don't care about this," the old and hoarse voice said faintly, "What about that homicidal maniac?"
"Giza Streelman did not go with Blood Bottle Gang to besiege Ramon according to our plan, even though we used various channels and hinted to them countless times about Ramon's importance to the Brotherhood," the young man said quietly.
'Giza Streelman.'
All the nerves in its body were stimulated by that familiar name again.
'My enemy.
'The Mystic.
'The enemy of life that runs amok in flesh and blood.'
"What happened?" The old and hoarse voice rang again.
"She made a public appearance … According to our informants in Broken Dragon Fortress, Giza seemed to have endangered His Highness' safety on the way," the young man said.
The sound of a cane hitting the ground rang in the darkness.
"Hmm?" The old voice sounded doubtful. "According to the previous report, wasn't the Night Queen the one who intercepted His Highness? Is that why she requested help from Broken Dragon Fortress?"
"Yes, but the information has been updated. It seems that things have become a little more complicated." The young man raised his head and revealed a smile that no one could see clearly in the darkness. "The Blood Mystic appeared for the Dark Night Black Coffin in the hands of the Blood Clansmen."
It opened its eyes abruptly.
Even though it had experienced too much numbness and chaos during the years when it was separated from its main body, its memories with its main body still remained in its mind.
'Dark Night …
'What a familiar term …
'Where did I hear it before?'
There was silence.
The old and hoarse voice did not reply.
"I remember that thing was on the list of legendary anti-mystic equipment … but judging from your reaction, it is indeed an extraordinary item, right?" The young man in white raised his eyebrows. "You know, if we send a message and arrange for manpower now, we might be able to intercept the Night Queen …"
The air in the darkness seemed to have frozen in an instant.
"Don't ask. That coffin is not something we can touch." After a while, the hoarse voice slowly rang. "Be it the coffin itself or the item in it."
The young man frowned and revealed a puzzled expression.
But he still nodded in the end. "After Giza was forced back by the fortress, she did not appear again … and Ramon was lured to Eckstedt by us according to the original plan."
The old figure slowly stood up.
"Very well. If Blood Bottle Gang still can't find Ramon, we will remind them again … no matter what, we must lure the Blood Mystic over —"
"In fact, this is the next thing I wanted to say," the young voice interrupted him. "Your last test seems to have worked."
The owner of the old voice, the Black Prophet Morat Hansen slowly raised his head in the darkness.
"Even though the Brotherhood's headquarters did not make any moves under our surveillance … But Black Sword appeared at the border between the two countries." The young man curled his lips. "I think he went to save Ramon … It seems that there is indeed something wrong with that Ramon, and his value to the Brotherhood is probably far beyond our imagination."
There was another strange silence.
Then, Morat's sinister laughter slowly rang out.
"Hehehe." The Black Prophet laughed softly. "Heh, I was almost fooled by my own student and that old woman … There was a moment when I really wanted to dispel my suspicions about Ramon's identity and remove him from the blacklist.
"But no matter how meticulous his disguise is, he can't beat your suspicion that is stronger than that of Broken Dragon Fortress, teacher." The young man in the white robe, Raphael Lindberg raised his head in the darkness and chuckled sarcastically.
"Let the news out." Morat did not care about Raphael's mockery. He stopped smiling and said in a low voice, "The prince should have already entered Eckstedt, right?"
Raphael nodded. "They are on the last stretch of the road in Black Sand Region."
"Let Chora come back." The Black Prophet nodded and took a deep breath. "Since he has completed his mission and successfully lured Ramon to the prince's diplomat group …"
Raphael crushed the paper in his hand and gently sprinkled it on a strange pattern on the ground. After the shredded paper came into contact with the pattern, they burned and disappeared in a bizarre manner.
"Do you want to proceed to the next step?" the young man asked flatly.
"Yes, it is time to send a big gift to the Secret Room and the Brotherhood." The Black Prophet tapped his cane. "Get ready to depart. This is your first big test before you take over as the head of the Secret Intelligence Department — make sure that Black Sword and Giza enter Dragon Clouds City at the same time and find Ramon."
Raphael flashed a bright smile.
"Black Sword against the Blood Mystic. I'm sure it will be a big scene." Morat took a deep breath and sat down again. "What an exciting scene."
"So you are in charge of luring away the two legendary anti-mystic equipment in Dragon Clouds City?" Raphael curled up the corner of his mouth. "A fearless Mystic in the capital of a country … It is secondary whether the scene is big or not, but it will definitely be ugly. Are you sure you want to do this?"
'Especially … to all the intelligence agencies, he is a notorious homicidal maniac.'
Raphael had a smile on his face, but he said in his heart.
"Treat it as Constellation's return gift to Eckstedt. Avenge the losses that His Majesty and I have suffered over the past few months." The Black Prophet sighed emotionally. "After all, this is also to more efficiently deal with the threat of the Blood Mystic …
"I really want to see how that old woman in Dragon Clouds City is going to deal with such a situation."
'Also,' Morat thought. 'With the tacit approval of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department, the Black Street Brotherhood has been in the limelight for too many years.
'Since the Blood Bottle Gang has been dealt a heavy blow, Asda and Giza have been forced to appear.
It is time for the Brotherhood, including the hand behind it, to pay the price. '
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