CH : 338 Conquering Dusk Island And Moves Towards Princess Vivian And Duolun City

Jade is bald?

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His voice was soft, but the implication behind it was grave. It wasn't just a warning—it was a final notice.

Ogola nodded, his hollowed black eyes quietly reflecting the lightless firmament above. "I understand," he murmured, his voice dry and low like the last breath of a forgotten god.

He lifted his gaze and looked up at the figure before him—Skye, the favored Void Familiar of the Black Dragon, adorned in flowing black-gold vestments laced with runes of command. Skye stood tall, confident, and noble. The very embodiment of status within the Black Wing Family.

And yet Ogola, who had once slaughtered legendary powers and silenced worlds, now floated beside him like a shadow without meaning.

A tide of emotion surged within him—cold, bitter envy. Not hatred. Never that. Ogola could not hate his fellow servants, and certainly not his master. His loyalty had been etched into his essence, his very soul reshaped by Void to pulse in harmony with the Lord's will.

But envy was different. It was quieter. Personal.

He was undeniably hundreds of times more powerful than Skye. That was a fact that even Skye would not deny. Yet power meant nothing without favor. And Ogola, for all his might, had fallen far behind not only Skye, but also behind Bray the Griffin, Bertha the Crane, and a host of others—first elders, and secondary elders, and even dragonborn maids with not even a fraction of his combat ability.

It was humiliating. He couldn't even raise his head in front of the maids who once bowed to him in faith. To them, he was no longer Ogola the Death Patroller. He was merely a reminder—of what happened when someone failed to meet the Lord's expectations.

"Damn it all," Ogola cursed inwardly, the weight of his pride pressing heavily against the chains of his loyalty.

Yet despite this storm of internal frustration, there was not a trace of resentment toward the Black Dragon Lord. On the contrary, Ogola revered his master with a ferocity that bordered on fanaticism. If anything, the shame he felt was for having failed such a being. He did not serve the Lord out of obligation—he served because it was his purpose, the reason for his rebirth, the axis around which his entire existence revolved.

But within that loyal servant beat a heart that still longed—longed not for rebellion, but for recognition. For redemption. For a place at his master's side, not buried in the shadows beneath him.

"I must succeed this time," Ogola whispered under his breath, though no one heard him. His fists, still powerful even in his shrunken form, clenched with resolve. "I must redeem myself… and rise again."

As a fully transformed Void Familiar, his heart and soul were entirely loyal to the Black Dragon Lord. In terms of devotion, there was no difference between Ogola and Skye.

Yet as an individual, with his own personality and emotional complexity, Ogola found it increasingly difficult to accept his current situation without protest.

No longer did he dream of mere survival or simple favor. No. Ogola aspired to be the strongest under the Lord's banner—the one name that would be invoked when the Black Dragon needed something done. A title that would be feared across the worlds. Not just a Death Patroller. Not just a shadow.

But the most trusted blade in the hand of the King of Void.

His thoughts wandered back to the Gray Space—the endless, light realm between time and memory. A land where souls, and Void-born remnants floated endlessly, powerless to change their fate. They worshipped the Lord still, of course. They offered up their scraps of energy in the only way they could. They existed solely for that purpose: to be offerings. Fuel. Tools.

But Ogola was different.

He had touched the real world again. Tasted air. Seen light. Watched blood fall on the earth and felt wind press against his body. That brief breath of life had reignited something deep within him—ambition.

"I want to stand tall again," he thought. "Not as a mere conduit of Void energy, but as a servant of flesh and will, who conquers and commands in the master's name. I want to carve new legends, build monuments of bones and fire, and let the world remember my name."

Hundreds of thousands of blackened eyes in thousands of skulls burned—not with hatred or rebellion, but with fervent devotion fueled by ambition.

For Ogola, there was no conflict between loyalty and desire. He would rise not to defy his master, but to serve him in greater ways than ever before. That was his vow.

That was his dream.

And if the cost of that dream was a thousand more years of silence, or the scorn of every other servant, so be it.

Let them mock him. Let them look down upon him.

For soon… they would look up.

---

After Skye and the other family members received the order and departed, the summit of Ten Thousand Mountain suddenly became eerily empty.

With a single thought, I unleashed a massive surge of mana, and a thousand-meter-tall 'Any Door' appeared in front of me.

On the other side of the Any Door stood the dragons, Sophia, and the other core maids, who had already been waiting and preparing for some time.

I had teleported the dragons, Sophia, and the core maids away before the battle against the demons began.

I did not strip them of their power. After all, there were only a little more than three hundred dragons in the entire group, and the number of core maid relatives barely reached a few dozen. Their accumulated power was far too insignificant to matter to me.

"Sophia, lead them here and begin rebuilding Castle Black."

I lowered my massive black dragon head and spoke.

"As ordered," Sophia replied respectfully. She then turned around and began instructing the dozens of core maids, assigning each one a team of kobold dragon warlocks who had remained behind to commence construction.

Five thousand high-level Kobold Dragon Vein Warlocks moved with terrifying efficiency.

Although most of the spells these kobold warlocks possessed came from their bloodlines and had little to do with construction, as a dedicated logistics and construction force of the Dragon Lair, each warlock was proficient in at least one or two structural magic spells.

With the radiance of magical light, the forests vanished, the land was flattened, and the mountains were reshaped.

During this time, the three hundred-plus dragons also dispersed throughout the surrounding area, instinctively clearing away the monsters that emerged from the forest to interfere with the kobolds' construction efforts.

After observing briefly, I had an idea. I used the Instant Teleportation spell, locked onto an anchor point, and traveled to the Abyssal Lava Wasteland Plane.

---

Black Wing City.

Unlike the desolate scene from when it was first established many years ago, Black Wing City had grown into a place of tremendous prosperity and activity. Over one hundred million demons, abyssal creatures, and dark beings flowed through its streets.

More than half of them were already fully infiltrated by Void. The rest had almost all been implanted with Void seeds.

Here, one could easily spot entire groups of residents setting out on hunts for wild abyssal beasts, all in order to satiate their ever-growing, monstrous appetites.

As a result, Black Wing City didn't need to dispatch troops to maintain control over its surroundings.

I descended into the main hall situated on the central island of Black Wing City. Only a few hundred scattered kin remained behind to guard it—and none of them had reached the master level. They were all high-tier, but not truly powerful.

This was inevitable. The Dark Frost Giant Lord had exerted tremendous pressure on me. Within the three strongholds—Black Wing City, the Ghost Clan Plane, and Castle Black—except for a few core kin and dragons, all master-level and higher beings had merged their power completely with mine.

Today, only around ten thousand high-tier dependents remained in Black Wing City, with the rest being merely mid- or low-level. Its defensive strength had dwindled to the point that it barely resembled an abyssal stronghold at all.

While deep in thought, I stepped into the central hall, and my body penetrated a dense barrier. This was a powerful shield built by the Heart of the Abyss, strong enough to imprison enemies of even the first stage of the legendary tier and capable of blocking all forms of teleportation and communication.

A figure reflected in my eyes.

She had an innocent and seductive oval-shaped face, long black hair cascading to her waist, and two trembling, half-exposed breasts perched above her narrow waist.

She was Princess Vivian—the daughter of the Night Lord of Duolun City.

Princess Vivian had been detained here ever since the last encounter.

It wasn't because she had any major value—but simply because I had forgotten about her for a while.

Ever since becoming a dragon of legendary strength, my sense of time had gradually faded. A few years could slip by in what felt like a single nap or a session of spell and martial training.

When Princess Vivian heard the sound of my approach, she turned her head. Upon seeing it was me, her expression changed slightly, and she asked nervously:

"What are you going to do?"

My dragon claw extended toward her, releasing a terrifying suction force that instantly drew her into my grasp. Then I lowered my massive dragon head and revealed a cold, cruel smile.

"Of course, it's you, Vivian."

With that, I transformed into my dragon-human form.

---

Three hours later.

I once again took on my true form—a massive, hundred-meter-long black dragon. Clutched within my claw was Princess Vivian, now foaming at the mouth and flushed red.

I passed through an open Any Door.

On the other side of the gate lay the outskirts of Duolun City.

I descended into the wilderness and gazed upon the magnificent, distant silhouette of Duolun. Then, with a thought, I pulled a high-ranked succubus from the gray space—a demon of great caliber—and resurrected her.

Stripping away more of my power, I struggled to maintain my biological level at 24.

With another thought, far across the distance of hundreds of thousands of miles, I caused the self-destruction of all middle- and low-tier dependents residing in Black Wing City.

Millions of miniature miniature, fragmented forces surged into my being, allowing me to barely stabilize my biological level at 24.

I then lowered my head and glanced at the eighteenth-order succubus I had just resurrected. I issued an order.

"Eleanor, take her, and enter Duolun City. I want you to lure the Night Lord out."

"She" referred, of course, to Princess Vivian, who lay limp and dazed from her recent ordeal.

"Yes, Master," the resurrected succubus replied with unrestrained joy. She instantly understood that this mission granted by her master was an excellent opportunity to earn merit.

She knew full well that life and death would be uncertain once she entered Duolun City—but that didn't matter. As long as she fulfilled her master's command, even death would not be the end. She would be brought back.

As Eleanor carried Princess Vivian and flew toward Duolun City, my crimson, slit-pupiled dragon eyes remained cold and detached. With a single thought, my black dragon body transformed into a void dragon form—cold, gray-white, and ghostly.

The enormous void dragon slipped silently into space, heading toward Duolun City, concealed and lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash a fatal strike upon the Night Lord.

As for why Princess Vivian?

Her value was simple.

She was bait. And a great woman to keep.

Originally, I had no such intention, but as my heart stirred, I acted on impulse. Still, it turned out to be a fine occasion to celebrate our victory after the war.

Driving back the Dark Frost Giant Lord while maintaining control over the Tal Plane—despite its lingering threats and hidden pressures—was a tremendous triumph for me.

---

The succubus Eleanor flapped her dark, leathery bat wings behind me and swiftly arrived at the gates of Duolun City. The towering, hundred-foot-high gates looked majestic and imposing, guarded by two colossal figures—Balor-class greater demons—each standing over ten meters tall.

As Eleanor approached, both Balor gatekeepers couldn't help but be drawn to her.

It wasn't just the natural allure and charm of the succubus; it was her remarkable physique that set her apart. Typically, a succubus of the greater demon class is only around three meters tall, and the race itself is not known for physical prowess. But this one—having been saturated with void power for many years—stood over five meters tall. Among the various humanoid demon races, her size was considered above average, and for a succubus of such proportions, she was naturally eye-catching.

"Stop right there!"

One of the Balor guards couldn't suppress his lust and stared at her with greedy, burning eyes.

"What's in that bag you're carrying? I suspect it contains something dangerous. I need to inspect it!" The Balor leered, grinning obscenely. Without waiting for her response, he extended his rough, massive hand, attempting to grope at the succubus's ample bosom.

A flash of disdain passed through the Eleanor's eyes. Wisps of pink aura silently flowed from her body, slipping unnoticed into the Balor's towering frame.

The second Balor noticed the change briefly, but soon, he too was ensnared by the seductive aura.

Both fire demons fell under her spell and simply resumed their duty of guarding the gate, utterly ignoring the succubus as if she didn't exist.

"Hmph, you two fools. If I weren't on a mission for my master, you would've died a long time ago," Eleanor sneered, licking the corner of her lips—her pink tongue glistening seductively.

Without sparing another glance at the charmed Balor demons, she stepped into Duolun City, carrying a dark cloth bag in one hand.

The moment she crossed the threshold of Duolun City, the Night Lord Fatos—residing deep within a secluded manor and immersed in cultivation—suddenly opened his eyes. It was as though his gaze pierced through space and saw across hundreds of miles. He saw the succubus at the gates... and the black cloth bag in her hand.

"Vivian's aura?" Fatos muttered in shock.

After all these years, hadn't Vivian already perished?

"Could it be… did the Black Dragon loosen his grip on Vivian, sensing my desperation? And she took the chance to escape?" A flicker of hope crossed his mind—but almost instantly, new suspicions surfaced.

Why was Vivian confined within a bag?

Was she injured or traumatized while fleeing?

Amid these doubts, Fatos's body flickered and vanished—reappearing at the city gate, only a few hundred meters from the succubus.

At such a close distance, he could unmistakably sense the aura inside the bag. It was indeed his daughter, Vivian.

But Fatos, ever cautious—even within his own city—frowned and disappeared once more. When he reappeared, he stood within a hidden underground labyrinth beneath Duolun City.

This subterranean maze was enveloped in layers of magical defenses, with traces of several legendary-grade enchantments embedded throughout.

Only here did Fatos feel at ease. With a mere thought, Linton—the city's acting steward—received the order from his master and teleported both the succubus and her black cloth bag directly into the hidden hall.

Eleanor's vision blurred for the briefest moment, and when it refocused, she found herself standing in a wholly different space. But instead of panic or confusion, her lips curved into a radiant smile of genuine delight, her eyes twinkling with twisted satisfaction.

Fatos's brow furrowed once more. He didn't like that smile. Something about it gnawed at the edge of his instincts. But he remained silent.

With a snap of his fingers, a thread of abyssal-black light pierced the air, slashing open the dimensional bag like a blade through silk—revealing the unconscious figure of Vivian inside.

The moment he laid eyes on his daughter, a tidal wave of emotion surged through Fatos. Relief, sorrow, longing—they all collided in a single breath. He staggered forward, hand outstretched, his voice caught in his throat.

And then—

BOOM!

Space didn't just tear—it howled. A monstrous dragon claw, massive and deathly gray-white, shredded through reality like parchment. It clamped down on Fatos with horrifying speed, snatching him mid-step like a doll.

He barely had time to react. Even though he felt the ripple of danger the instant before it struck, it was far too late.

Even with my current physical tier reduced to Level 24, my strength—tempered by a legacy of carnage, void mastery, and godlike might—still burned at the cusp of the high-tier legendary realm. Fatos, for all his posturing, was just a night elf perched at the peak of Tier Three. Even within the protective sanctuary of his Abyssal City, boosted by its dark magic to Tier Four's peak, he remained a feeble insect before me.

The difference between us was no longer a matter of levels—it was a chasm between worlds, a divide in existence itself.

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