Chapter 107: The Sleeping Dragon

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As the subterranean demonfolk suffered a catastrophe that threatened to wipe them from existence, Provence and the others crossed the desolate wilderness and finally arrived at a magnificent city devoid of life.

Even after enduring the most merciless erosion of time, the city, with more than half its buildings collapsed, remained breathtaking.

Its distinctly ancient architectural style had produced structures of utterly colossal scale—a miracle of architecture that defied every known law of physics.

One could imagine that, at the height of its glory, this city had been a thriving metropolis populated by millions. Such a thing would have been unimaginable in the ancient world. It could only have been achieved through an extraordinarily advanced level of practical expertise in transportation and logistics, drainage design, sanitation, and countless other fields.

Three mages leapt down from a simply modified all-terrain vehicle. Ava gazed at the ruined city walls and exclaimed in amazement, “A semi-permanent solidification spell? It really lasted this long? This place must be nearly ten thousand years old. How did a city like this end up in such a state?”

The all-terrain vehicle was collected into a spatial pouch. Spatial pouches were highly practical pieces of equipment—affordable, convenient, and capable of holding large quantities of inanimate objects.

Watching the wyvern knights land, Provence said, “This is probably the answer we came here to find.”

The moment Klein touched down, he vomited violently. The white-collar worker who had trained himself into a mass of impressive muscles at the gym was nowhere near as resilient as he had imagined.

Xu Xiaoke’s complete lack of reaction was only natural. He was, after all, a genetically optimized star soldier—a formidable man capable of grappling directly with cannon-fodder members of the insectoid race. But Li Kangshan, an ordinary human being, had endured the turbulence of wyvern flight without complaint, which made Provence look at him with new respect.

Though Klein was so sick that his legs trembled beneath him, he still insisted on hurrying over to greet Provence.

Provence gave him a cool acknowledgment. He did not attach much importance to a man who was, in the ordinary sense, merely a successful professional. Klein, however, was highly perceptive and showed not the slightest trace of conceit. He carefully observed every one of Provence’s reactions and responded with perfect propriety.

That showed Klein was intelligent. An intelligent person was always more likely to take control of his own fate. The saying that fools were blessed with foolish luck could only deceive those too lazy even to use their brains.

The ruined city walls bore obvious traces of repairs and battle. It was clear that human life here had been anything but easy.

At regular intervals, great numbers of demonfolk launched suicidal assaults against the city.

Kant joked, “Like rats that have bred beyond their capacity and throw themselves into the sea to die.”

Yet everyone knew the truth could not possibly be so simple.

When the city’s inhabitants saw the wyvern knights descend, logistical personnel immediately rushed out to help tend the mounts and organize the equipment, allowing the battle-weary knights to rest without worry.

Compared with the knights in gleaming armor, however, these ordinary citizens and support workers were noticeably more emaciated. Their faces were sallow, and their clothing was little more than rags.

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Still, anyone capable of surviving on such a barren land possessed at least a basic level of physical fitness. Those in poor health had long since been weeded out by the hellish environment.

The only ones who could survive were the healthier, stronger members of the new humanity—and, most importantly, those who required less food.

The female knight Xi Luoya led fifteen warriors who were clearly stronger than the rest and surrounded Provence and the three newcomers. Their manner appeared courteous, but in reality they were escorting the strangers toward the enormous cathedral at the center of the city, visible from almost anywhere outside.

She removed her helmet, revealing a thin, unremarkable face, worn with exhaustion. Yet her sharp, high-bridged nose and prominent cheekbones gave her an air of unyielding determination.

Provence had no intention of resisting. It would save trouble, for one thing, and he was confident that his group could fight its way through even a true hell and come out the other side. Why should they fear a mere band of wyvern knights from some primitive civilization?

True dragon knights would have been another matter.

The enormous city still held a considerable population. Its residents patched together the dilapidated houses with discarded scraps and turned them into makeshift nests of their own. Yet the expression that never left their faces was one of numbness and emptiness.

It was not despair, but an absence of hope. Or perhaps they had never known what hope was from the moment they were born, and therefore had no despair to speak of.

Only when the wyvern knights passed did a glimmer of reassurance appear in their dull eyes, along with the faintest emotion that might perhaps be called longing.

Ava’s mood darkened as she looked at a large-headed child peering through a crack in a door, visibly suffering from malnutrition.

Through their mental link, Provence said with displeasure, “Do not focus too much on appearances. Search for the deeper truth.”

Ava asked blankly, “The truth?”

Provence shook his head and said nothing more.

Ava was the most experienced mage in the group, yet she had still been unable to cross the threshold into the ranks of the intermediate mages. What she lacked was neither magical power nor diligence in study, but the rational mode of thought that belonged to a true mage.

That was also why advanced female mages were so rare. They were too emotional. Emotional thinking made it easier for them to sense the existence of magic and create dazzling, powerful spells, but made it more difficult for them to understand and transcend the most fundamental laws of magic.

Looking at the common people around them, Li Kangshan took the initiative and spoke to Xi Luoya. “How long have you… lived like this?”

The female knight cast him a sidelong glance. “Twelve hundred years. We have fought the demonfolk for twelve hundred years. War destroyed everything.”

After a moment’s thought, Li Kangshan asked, “Do you mean that your war with the demonfolk destroyed the ecology of this world?”

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The female knight glared at him and said angrily, “Mind your words, stranger. It was the demonfolk. They brought a terrible pollution up from beneath the earth and contaminated every stretch of land and every source of water! We are not fighting over petty gains. We are struggling to survive!”

After a brief silence, Li Kangshan said awkwardly, “I’m sorry. I was too careless. I shouldn’t have passed judgment without knowing the truth.”

Xi Luoya snorted and said nothing more.

The somewhat wooden young man fell silent.

Provence’s appreciation for him continued to grow. To break the silence first in such unfamiliar circumstances was not recklessness, but an essential means of gathering information while remaining safe. Properly provoking the other party’s emotions could, in fact, yield far more intelligence.

After walking for a long time, they finally reached the cathedral’s entrance. Xi Luoya went inside alone for a while, then emerged and said, “Choose one person to enter and pray with the High Archbishop. The rest of you will remain here.”

As the leader, Provence stepped forward without hesitation and entered alone.

He ran his hand along the walls, which were covered in cracks despite being cleaned regularly, and admired the vivid religious paintings that adorned them, appearing to study them with great interest.

The scenes unfolded like panels in a vast illustrated story, recounting the stale tale of a god creating the world and driving back evil. Yet from the perspective of religious art, they were flawless. Even after all these years, their colors remained vivid, and the sense of grandeur they inspired had not diminished in the slightest. If anything, the passage of time had only deepened their power.

Before he realized it, Provence had traversed the entire length of the corridor. He straightened his already tidy clothes and entered the spacious main hall.

At the far end stood the tall figure of a man dressed in a long white-and-gold robe. Yet there was no statue of any deity. Instead, before that towering figure lay an enormous white-and-gold dragon, so vast that it occupied nearly half the hall. Even lying down, it rose as high as a ten-story building, like a breathing mountain sleeping in silence.

Its immense leathery wings covered its body like the strongest of shields. As its platinum scales shifted against one another, they produced a dry, unnerving rasp.

Provence’s breathing caught. At last, he felt an immense tide of energy surging toward him. If all that power were unleashed at once, it would likely rival even a nuclear bomb.

The mental link was unknowingly scoured away and severed by the overwhelming energy tide.

He had never imagined that Xi Luoya, the strongest among the wyvern knights outside, had only barely reached the threshold of the fourth energy level, while the wyvern king within had already stood at the pinnacle of the fifth. From its appearance, it was even continuing its evolution toward the sixth.

Yet this enormous wyvern did not seem entirely free. It remained sunk in a profound slumber.