Chapter 386: Reinforcements from another Plane, Let Me Touch It

"Hum."

Within the desolate, deathly silence of the Undead Plane, a spatial rift tore open. The silver dragon tumbled out in a wretched state, crashing into the ground and sending a plume of dust into the air.

An inescapable sense of weakness clung to Aerylian’s body and soul. The silver energy—that power originating from Melos, though she knew not how she had come to possess it—had exacted a heavy toll after being over-expended, blocked, and constrained.

"Damn it..."

Gritting her teeth in frustration, Aerylian could not help but feel a profound sense of powerlessness and defeat. The exceptionally powerful heretical dragons had all sacrificed themselves, and it now seemed that their extraordinary strength had been inextricably linked to Melos all along.

"What more can I possibly do? I don't even know where Zig and Noelle have gone. Damn it all..."

Feeling the rejection of the Undead Plane, Aerylian shifted into her human form. Dragging her weary body to the base of a nearby boulder, she slumped against it, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the dim, ringed sun hanging in the sky of the netherworld.

Aerylian was lost in confusion. The lady, usually so decisive, capable, and strategic, found herself unable to make a choice. It was not that she had been broken by this staggering setback; the flames of vengeance still burned within her, and the disappearance of Zig and Noelle would never allow her to stop.

Yet, there seemed to be no way forward. In the face of Melos, a dragon was no different from a mere insect. Once the silver energy she possessed proved useless against him, she was, in truth, left with nothing.

As long as Melos remained on guard against Aerylian, the other dragons posed no threat to him. As he had said, every dragon flowed with the blood of the Dragon King, Wendel Mix, a near-perfect essence that distilled the strengths of all dragon-kind.

If even such a powerful being, standing at the pinnacle of life, could not resist the erosion of the Abyss, then Aerylian, now utterly alone, seemed to have not a shred of hope for victory.

"Should I go to the continent to seek reinforcements? The news of the Abyss's return should be enough to unite them. No... that won't work. The world has never changed; this is not the era of old. And then there is the Dragon-Worship Cult. It’s impossible."

The problem was no longer confined to the dragon race. It was hard to say exactly what Melos wanted, but to let an Abyssal creature grow unchecked was absolutely out of the question. A fully matured Melos could threaten the entire continent, and he already possessed a trait most Abyssal creatures lacked: a clear, conscious mind.

Aerylian considered spreading the word of the Abyss’s resurgence to rally the intelligent races of the continent, but it was a futile plan. People never changed; they only reacted to threats standing directly before them. They had united once to fight the Abyss, but that was a miracle impossible to replicate.

Peace between the races had always been fragile. Had the Abyss not pushed them to the brink of extinction, they would never have set aside their grievances to stand together.

Now, after a long peace, the Abyss was a thing of the past. A mere rumor could not unite these squabbling races, who were already leaning toward war.

Since Melos had not yet made any significant moves on the continent, no one would believe Aerylian’s ethereal warning.

Most importantly, she did not know how deeply the Dragon-Worship Cult had infiltrated the continent. Heaven only knew how many of her channels for spreading the news were linked to them. Her actions could expose her location, and a hunt by Melos would surely extinguish the last glimmer of hope.

No matter how she looked at it, the situation was an unsolvable knot. Without sufficient strength and unable to borrow power from others, she seemed destined to watch Melos grow. Perhaps she could use her remaining strength for one final, suicidal strike? But the probability of success was negligible. Still, if no other path appeared, she would surely do it.

"Is that you, Miss Aerylian? I can sense your aura. You carry the traces of many, many fallen dragons. May I ask what has happened?"

The earth trembled. A deep, rumbling voice echoed from below. Aerylian instinctively gathered her strength to face an enemy, only to pause as she realized the speaker's identity: the undead bone dragon she had once met, who called himself "Old Bones."

"Boom!"

A massive skeletal frame tore through the barren surface of the Undead Plane. "Old Bones," his entire body wreathed in ghostly green soul-fire, crawled out and walked toward Aerylian with a measured gait.

"Can you tell me what happened? I hope it isn't too terrible; these old bones of mine aren't what they used to be."

The skeletal dragon head leaned toward her. His tone was remarkably gentle, yet his presence was staggering. The "Old Bones" before her no longer bore the ridiculous air of a creature chased into hiding by the weaklings of the Dragon-Worship Cult. His words were grave, and the soul-fire burning within him was fierce and intense.

"I..."

Aerylian hesitated. When they first met, the sight of him being chased by three abominations had made her overlook his true strength. Now, seeing him in this ferocious and powerful state, she realized that Old Bones was not weak—in fact, he was formidable.

Come to think of it, he was the only undead dragon in this plane. All others were in the main world. The Undead Plane was better suited for their survival, yes, but only if there were enough undead to devour one another’s soul-fire to grow stronger and sustain their existence.

Without constant consumption, the Undead Plane actually eroded the souls of the undead faster than the main world.

Yet, by his own account, Old Bones had not consumed any soul-fire for thousands of years, and his power remained vast. Combined with a lifespan that surely exceeded millennia, his identity was worth pondering.

"Who are you, really? Does the dragon race have any record of your name?"

Before recounting the tragedy, Aerylian chose to ask. She desperately wanted to know what kind of being he was.

"There isn't much to say. I am merely a defeated subordinate of someone else. I owe him a promise. Though I have no desire to die so soon, what I sense in you seems to be urging me to make a sacrifice to resolve these troubles."

"If you must know, my name is Boderan. We shall discuss my identity later; tell me what has happened."

Old Bones spoke calmly, yet the aura radiating from his body caused the surrounding area to boil. Undead of all levels began to flee in terror.

Aerylian searched her memory for any dragon named Boderan, but found nothing. This only made his identity more enigmatic. But there was no need to dwell on it now; if he could increase the odds of killing Melos, that was enough.

From the perspective of a survivor, Aerylian shared the entire story—a tale that had been flawed from the very start—with the skeletal dragon named Boderan.

When she finished, Boderan nodded his grim, skull-like head. Aerylian realized another point she had overlooked: Boderan did not seem to worship the Dragon King, Wendel Mix. In a sense, he too was a heretical dragon, yet fundamentally different from the others.

"I understand. It has reached such a dire state. I will help, regardless of the reason. As for reinforcements, Miss Aerylian, have you considered beings from other planes? The Hell Plane, for instance."

Boderan’s words were like a wake-up call. Aerylian, whose mind had been too clouded to think clearly, immediately grasped the implication.

Yes, the world was not just the continent and the Endless Sea. It was tethered to countless other planes, some unimaginably vast, with power levels that rivaled or even surpassed the main world.

Most planes had not participated in the war against the Abyss; only the Undead Plane and a few others with deep ties to the main world had joined the fray. Some intelligent races had even fled to other planes to escape the Abyssal threat.

The Hell Plane, which Boderan spoke of—a place where hellfire burned eternally, where constant warfare never ceased, and where the inhabitants coveted the main world—was a plane of terrifying combat power. Given the lack of knowledge, no one knew if there were beings even more powerful than the Lords of Hell.

If there were a way to lure the denizens of Hell to fight Melos, this strategy of pitting tiger against wolf was one of the few remaining options. Of course, who was the wolf and who was the tiger, and whether the Abyssal creatures might learn from the hell-spawn, were variables impossible to predict.

But she had no choice, so there was no point in hesitating.

"The demons of the Hell Plane are indeed a formidable force, but ordinary demons cannot fight Melos. We would need a Lord of Hell to intervene. What price could we possibly pay to secure their aid?"

Aerylian asked. To move a Lord of Hell required a cost. These beings, who had crawled from the ranks of minor imps to the pinnacle, were tired of endless war. They favored transactions. But to have them personally intervene? The price might be unbearable. What could she possibly offer?

"Click."

Under Aerylian’s gaze, Boderan tore open his own chest, revealing what lay within.

"Me."

The answer was indifferent.

...

In the void beneath the endless deep sea, Wang Yu and Aivya, having paused briefly after glimpsing the giant octopus clinging to the void itself, finally began their next move.

"It should work. I learned how to channel power from the Lady of Night. You can achieve a similar effect by using the power of the Chariot to drive the shell of this deity."

The girl quickly analyzed and mobilized the memories she had shared with the Lady of Night, guiding Wang Yu to use the Chariot’s power to indirectly cast divine arts through the dream deity’s shell. The void here rejected Aivya, but it did not reject the power of this divine vessel.

"I thought you’d say I was being reckless."

Wang Yu scratched his head, speaking to the girl as he struggled to channel the deity’s power through the Chariot.

"What else can I say? I have to believe whatever you tell me, don't I? You’re the same—you believe whatever I say. Though I know you’re used to being reckless, you’ve never let me down. Still, be careful."

Aivya’s tone held a hint of helplessness. They trusted each other unconditionally. He always cared about her feelings, and while he was reckless, he always acted with a plan. But this time, the level of recklessness was indeed high.

Wang Yu had made it clear: he was going down to touch that giant octopus.