Chapter 299 Dungeon
I don't know what was going on in his mind, but the Knight Commander was actually surrounded by a group of children. He watched the kid named George lead this group of daring kids to skillfully bypass the guards, remove the "camouflage" made of stones and weeds, and flexibly crawl into a particularly hidden hole in the wall, as if he had done this thousands of times.
Yialos: “…”
He swore to Her Majesty the Queen that not even the spies in Port Morris were so skilled.
"Hey! Don't just stand there!" George called him anxiously from the other side of the hole in the wall. "Uncle Henry, who's on duty at this time, always slacks off and comes about ten minutes late. But Brother Bassa will be here to feed the dragon soon. We have to hurry, otherwise we'll all be caught and beaten!"
The Knight Commander hid in the tall grass with the children. Seeing the guards from the previous shift staggering away, George led the group of children and they ran towards the dungeon entrance. George deftly lifted a floor tile, pulled out a spare iron key, and unlocked the heavy iron lock on the dungeon door.
"I, I put it back after I finished reading it last time!" Seeing Yialos's strange look, the boy's cheeks flushed and he defended himself, "No one of you is allowed to tell anyone!"
...This isn't even the first time! This damn kid!
Yialos took a deep breath and followed George into the deep and narrow corridor of the dungeon.
Since the People's Party came to power, the dungeons of the Crimson Bazaar, once home to countless slaves, were no longer used to imprison humans. After renovations, they were used to raise the young Doom Lord. The mottled walls were covered in dark red rust, and besides the damp, musty smell and the stench of wild beasts, one could even vaguely smell the faint smell of iron.
The corridor stretched downward, growing darker and darker. A small flickering firelight shone through at the end, and the faint sound of chains rattling and some creature scratching at the ground could be heard. The youngest child couldn't help but feel terrified. He stood there trembling, his voice beginning to sob, "George, I'm scared..."
"What are you afraid of? Do you want to see a dragon?" The leading boy took the time to turn around and glared at him. "I've already seen one. Even though that black dragon was just a cub, it was incredibly majestic. Besides, it was tied up tightly. It wouldn't come out and eat you!"
"And Brother Basa said that the best of us might be able to tame this dragon like Master Azuka did!" He tried to encourage his hesitant companions. "If you don't even have the courage to look at it through the cage, how can you become a great dragon rider?"
The corners of Yialos's mouth twitched. This kid was truly talented. But the other children, who had been somewhat hesitant, were convinced by him, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
"George is right! A great dragon rider wouldn't be a coward!" A girl with pigtails pushed aside the youngest child and walked past him. "Jim, if you really can't bear to look, then go up and wait for us."
Jim stood there with his mouth pursed and tears in his eyes, while all the children passed him one by one with their heads held high.
"...Okay, Jim, I can go up there with you and wait," George sighed and shrugged nonchalantly, "I've already seen it once anyway."
"...I'd better go down." Jim said softly. Yialos was stunned for a moment, and a small, cold hand suddenly gently grasped his fingers.
He lowered his head and saw the child looking at him timidly with his innocent little face. He trusted the child and leaned closer to the only adult present. "Brother Yialos, I, I'm still a little scared... Can I hold your hand?"
Yialos was silent for a moment, then held the child's hand.
The lights at the end of the corridor flickered, and the clinking of chains grew clearer. George, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped, turned around, put his index finger to his lips, and smiled slyly, "Ladies and gentlemen, don't scream!"
With this reminder, the children covered their mouths tightly, suppressing the screams that threatened to burst from their throats. They saw a giant Doomsday Lord cub lazily lying on the ground in the iron fence behind the corner. It looked well-fed, its wounds completely healed, and its pitch-black scales gleamed in the firelight. Aside from its limbs and snout being firmly locked by magical tools, it had even grown larger.
After hearing the human footsteps, the dragon's nictitating membrane instantly faded, revealing its blood-bright and cold red dragon eyes, reflecting a group of dumbfounded human cubs.
"Oh, the God of Light, it's so big..." a child said in awe.
It's just a cub, but it's almost as big as Windrunner Azra.
The black dragon cub snorted disdainfully. As a Doom Lord, its favorite thing to do was find a warm volcanic crater and sleep in the warm, sulfurous air. Unfortunately, it was imprisoned by a bunch of foolish humans, and that white dragon—damn white dragon! Every human around it was so wicked!
Sometimes the knight of the white dragon, the guy with shiny hair that attracts dragons and a very scary aura, will "show mercy" and take it to a far, far place for some fresh air. It found the right opportunity and tried desperately to run away, but was easily caught and beaten, and had to roll back underground to recuperate.
Another black-haired human with a terrifying look would occasionally take a scale or a small tube of blood from it. Although these minor injuries were insignificant to the dragon, the proud dragon still could not tolerate such an offense! But even if it just bared its teeth at someone, it would still be beaten up again.
The dragon would not yield, but would assess the situation, so it had no choice but to swallow its anger and turn its grief into appetite. The only good person here was the guy named Basa, its slave, responsible for feeding it and scrubbing its scales, except for the times when he would try to climb onto its back, only to be thrown off by it in a rage.
As a result, a group of cubs came and wanted to climb onto its back... The black dragon lay lazily on the ground, rested its chin on its claws, and closed its eyes again.
No, don't even think about it. It won't be like that abominable white dragon, willingly allowing despicable humans to ride on its back - it's impossible for it to work for humans, it will never work in this life, it can only reluctantly lie on the ground and collect spoils, and make a living.
Yialos, ever vigilant against the black dragon, suddenly frowned. He glanced calmly into the corner, then turned to the still-excited children and said gravely, "Let's go. It's almost time."
George reacted, put his hands on his hips, and urged his companions in a very authoritative manner: "Alright, hurry up and go, and come back next time - otherwise it will be terrible if we get caught!"
The children could only grumble softly as they pushed and shoved their way towards the entrance. Jim, who was at the rear, took one last, reluctant look at the Doomsday Lord, but this time he noticed something was amiss.
"...George, the black chain on the dragon's left leg," Jim said hesitantly in a low voice, "doesn't seem to be shining much anymore?"
"Huh?" George frowned and turned around. He approached the iron railing cautiously and stood on tiptoe. "...Really? The patterns on the other three chains are all bright, but this one is gray. Why? I remember that the last time I saw it, all of them were shiny...?"
The boy's face suddenly turned pale. As an apprentice dragon rider, he quickly realized something was wrong. "This is definitely not right! Everyone, run! I'll tell Brother Basa!"
A deep sigh emerged from the depths of darkness.
"Uncle Henry?"
George looked blankly at the guard who came out from the depths of the dungeon to take over the shift.
Caught, he thought, but somehow the man who once would smile and stroke their heads seemed terribly unfamiliar.
He subconsciously stretched out his arms, protecting his companions behind him, and slowly backed away until his back hit the cold, hard iron bars that imprisoned the dragon.
"I...I'm sorry," the boy stammered, "We just wanted to take a look at this Doomsday Lord..."
The other party ignored him and looked in Yialos's direction, saying something he couldn't understand: "Sir Yialos, it's been three days and you haven't responded to our secret letter. We really want to know why."
The Knight Commander stared blankly at the seemingly ordinary man. This man was one of the spies from the Royal City, a man of exceptional ability and skillful disguise who had successfully gained the trust of the People's Party and even made contact with the Lord of Doom.
"I know my limits," he said in a deep voice. He calmly took a step forward, blocking the group of panicked and confused children behind him. "But you, taking the initiative—I remember that the leadership of this operation should be in my hands?"
The other party sneered: "The premise is that you remain loyal to His Majesty."
Yialos paused, slowly raised his eyes, and asked coldly, word by word: "Are you questioning me?"
The terrifying pressure from the Lord Prayer Warlock suddenly swept across the entire dungeon. Henry swayed slightly, gritted his teeth, and finally lowered his head unwillingly: "...No, I dare not."
Even though he wasn't being targeted, George, still frightened by the pressure, broke into a cold sweat, his eyes widening. He was no longer a clueless child, and besides, he was always clever and quick-witted. The boy turned in disbelief at "Brother Yialos," who had always been gentle, upright, and sometimes even a bit clumsy. "You, you, why would you..."
"What a pity."
Yialos remained silent. Henry glanced at the trembling children, his tone unconcealed in its coldness and bloodiness. "Actually, I wanted to give these overly 'lively' brats a chance to live—but it was their fault they came at the wrong time, and their eyes were so sharp that they saw things they shouldn't have."
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