Chapter 421: Return to the 71st Layer of the Abyss

The demon offered as a sacrifice concerned the prestige of the Nordhill Guardian Council. Naturally, the greater its status, the better. An abyss lord would be ideal.

Of course, using an abyss lord for the sacrifice was something the White Dragon Lord could only dream about. Whether he could even defeat one was another matter entirely. He recalled the more famous demons on the Blood War Battlefield.

First was the Flame Demon Tyrant, Hagulas. Following the Howling Lord's fall, this Balor had regained its freedom and joined the Ruler of the Flame Prison. Having finally found a faction, its strength had advanced by leaps and bounds, allowing it to shine during the late stages of the blood war. It was currently stationed at the Heavenly Pyre Fortress.

It was a viable target.

Next was the Nalfeshnee, Salema. A great general under the Abyss Defender, Salema boasted a distinguished military record in the blood war; no fewer than seven high-tier legends had fallen directly or indirectly by its hands. However, the Abyss Defender was a powerhouse on the same level as the Radiant Archangel, the Light of Lights. Hunting Salema would require the perfect opportunity.

Then there was the eight-armed snake demon, Udina. The Blade Sovereign had fled back to her home territory after sustaining severe injuries, but her army on the Blood War Battlefield had not entirely withdrawn. The leader of these remnants was Udina. Having only recently advanced to an eight-armed snake demon, Udina was somewhat lacking in strength but boasted a formidable reputation.

Sacrificing the Blade Sovereign's representative on the Blood War Battlefield would serve to spite her and exact some interest for her previous ambush. The White Dragon Lord was quite tempted, but any concrete plans would have to wait until he visited the Abyss and assessed the situation.

With these thoughts in mind, the White Dragon Lord sent a message to Gurgalu, ordering him to teleport to Naxxramas at a set time every day to monitor news from the Blood War Battlefield.

After narrowly escaping death and gaining a new lease on life, nothing could comfort a weary soul quite like a good, deep sleep.

The White Dragon Lord walked toward his bedchambers. Passing through the magic garden where a hundred flowers bloomed in vibrant competition and down exquisitely decorated corridors, he arrived at his long-unseen bedroom and peacefully fell into a deep slumber.

When the White Dragon Lord woke up again, a full week had passed.

With his exhaustion and worries completely vanished, the White Dragon Lord prepared to get down to business. He went to the White Tower and entered a specific communication frequency.

After a short wait, Mage Alan's half-body projection appeared before the White Dragon Lord. Just like decades ago, the mage had not changed in the slightest.

"Alan, it's been a long time."

"Amos! Seeing you safe and sound makes me so happy..."

Having fought together on the Blood War Battlefield, the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan had forged a deep friendship. Not having seen each other for decades, the two had much to catch up on. After a long chat, the White Dragon Lord brought up the main topic.

"Alan, with my current strength, I am fully capable of capturing the Lord of Putrid Silt and interrogating him about the treasure. Let's make another trip to the 71st Layer of the Abyss."

Last time, the White Dragon Lord, Alan, the Skyhowler, and the orc had investigated the treasure left behind by the abyss lord, the Lord of the Corrosive Marsh. They had tracked it all the way to the Lord of Putrid Silt, but because of the impending blood war and their own limitations in strength, the four had halted their pursuit.

Now that the White Dragon Lord was bringing it up again, Mage Alan felt a surge of complex emotions. Back then, he had the confidence to fight the White Dragon Lord to a draw, but now that confidence was long gone.

"Alright. The Boar's Howl Adventurer Group has investigated for so long without any results. Now that you've broken through to the Abomination Rank, we should settle this before a long night brings many dreams."

"Mm, our thoughts align on this matter. We'll set the time for tonight. We can meet up in the City of Naxxramas. I'll contact Lady Namagani now; I hope she can still join us."

The White Dragon Lord ended the call and entered another communication frequency.

Namagani Skyhowler had been severely injured in the final decisive battle of the blood war. Mage Merlin had informed the Star Realm's Desert Bane of this, and the Desert Bane had gone to the Abyss to pick up his animal companion. Therefore, the White Dragon Lord simply needed to contact the brass dragon, the Desert Bane.

The bust of an old man in yellow robes appeared before the White Dragon Lord, sizing him up with a puzzled expression.

"Senior Hakmudiro, I am Amos Aldrich of Nordhill."

The Desert Bane came to a sudden realization. "So you're Amos. I've heard Merlin mention you. Did he ask you to convince me to attend the celebration? Hmm... I'm very happy that the Dragon Race has produced such an outstanding junior, but I am currently repairing a dying world and simply cannot get away."

This brass dragon seemed to have misunderstood something.

"Understandable. That world needs you far more than a celebration does. In truth, I came to find your animal companion, Lady Namagani. I have something to discuss with her."

"Is that so," the old man in yellow robes said, turning his head. "Little Blackie! A friend is looking for you!"

Little Blackie?!

It seemed he had heard something he shouldn't have. Remembering Namagani's massive true form, a teasing glint flashed in the White Dragon Lord's eyes.

"Shut up, old man! Call me Little Blackie one more time, and I'll uproot all your flowers!" the Skyhowler's furious roar echoed from the other end of the projection.

"Who's looking for me?"

The Desert Bane was shoved aside, and the Skyhowler appeared before the White Dragon Lord. Seeing who it was, her expression became quite colorful.

"Ahem! Don't breathe a word about what just happened."

"Ahem! Nothing happened just now."

The White Dragon Lord put on a serious face. "Lady Namagani, I came to you this time to re-explore the 71st Layer of the Abyss and finish what we left undone last time."

The Skyhowler's expression was conflicted. "You've already spoken with Alan, haven't you? I won't be participating in this adventure. My injuries haven't healed yet, and the old man needs me here. Right, I still have a few subordinates stationed in the Rotting Swamp. You can look for them first to see if they have any useful intelligence. Their leader is named Velen Woodstrider."

"Is there a secret signal to make contact?"

"No... hmm... his nickname is Short-Eared Rabbit. Only those inside the adventure group know that name."

"..."

The White Dragon Lord reminisced a bit more with the Skyhowler before ending the call.

Time flew by, and the appointed time with Mage Alan soon arrived. The White Dragon Lord teleported to the Abyss.

Having reached the Abomination Rank in strength, the White Dragon Lord was more than capable of protecting himself, even if he couldn't defeat the Abominations in the void. Thus, he directly used the Teleportation Platform inside the White Tower.

Mage Alan arrived as promised. The White Dragon Lord cast a teleportation spell, sending the two of them to the Rotting Swamp.

With the blood moon hanging high and the stars hidden away, the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan appeared in the sky above the Rotting Swamp. Identifying his bearings, he flew toward the South.

In the southern part of the Rotting Swamp lay an adventurer camp where adventurers from various planes gathered. Their primary prey consisted of the corrupted beasts within the Rotting Swamp, and the small adventurer detachment of the Boar's Howl was stationed there.

After flying for about ten minutes, the White Dragon Lord spotted the scattered campfires of the adventurer camp on the ground in the distance. From afar, they looked like fading embers.

Soon, the White Dragon Lord drew closer, and the adventurer camp came fully into view.

The adventurer camp was built on a relatively large piece of solid ground in the swamp. It had likely been expanded and elevated by a legendary mage using magic. The camp's perimeter was surrounded by a mud wall several men high, built from locally sourced soil. The enclosed area was roughly ten thousand square meters, filled with dusty, gray tents. Some tents were pitched close together while others were kept far apart, as the adventurers were divided into various factions.

Many abyssal planes had similar adventurer camps. They were often constructed and overseen by one or more legendary practitioners, providing safe lodging, teleportation, and other services for visiting adventurers.

Naturally, none of these services were free. Moreover, the safety they provided was only relative to the completely unprotected wilderness. Let alone the overlord-tier demons of each abyssal layer, even the hydra, before being subjugated by the White Dragon Lord, could have destroyed such an adventurer camp.

In fact, news of a certain adventurer camp being destroyed—or a famous legendary adventurer establishing a new one on some abyssal layer—would spread every year.

In this world, ordinary people still made up the vast majority. There were no more than ten thousand Abomination Rank powerhouses like the White Dragon Lord in the entire multiverse, and deities and abyss lords accounted for half of that number. (Note: Although the Pantheon claimed to house ten thousand gods, the actual number of deities fell far short of that figure.)

Ten thousand godly powerhouses seemed like a lot, but one had to remember that the number of planes across the multiverse was as numerous as the stars. The material planes recorded by the Nordhill Guardian Council alone numbered over a million.

Of these million-plus material planes, Small Material Planes made up the vast majority, while there were only thirty-two giant material planes.

In giant material planes, legendary powerhouses might not stand out much. But in the numerous small and medium planes, a legendary powerhouse was an indomitable figure. The same held true for this adventurer camp; the White Dragon Lord sensed the auras of three legendary powerhouses inside.

Not disturbing others' sleep in the middle of the night was the most basic moral courtesy of civilized people, and both the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan possessed excellent social awareness.

As they approached the camp, the White Dragon Lord assumed his dragonkin form and slowly descended alongside Mage Alan.

Down in the camp, the night watchers breathed a sigh of relief at this sight and slowly lowered the small hammers used to strike the alarm bells. Slowing down to descend meant the visitors bore no ill intent, and the patrol squads similarly lowered their drawn crossbows.

Anyone who dared to fly under the blood moon was at least a legendary powerhouse, perhaps even a High-Tier Legend. If a crossbow bolt was accidentally fired, they would be completely doomed.

In the large tent at the center of the camp, the two legendary powerhouses breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief and put away the Teleportation Scrolls in their hands. Although they could clearly see the figures of the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan, they couldn't sense any auras from them whatsoever. This meant the newcomers' strength was far above their own.

"Let's go. We should head out and welcome these two High-Tier Legend lords." The two legendary powerhouses stepped out of the large tent. As the owners of the camp, they needed to make contact with these High-Tier Legends who had suddenly descended. Even if they didn't gain any benefits, simply becoming acquainted was always a good thing.

As for the possibility that the arrivals were Abomination Rank powerhouses, the two legendary adventurers didn't even dare to imagine it.

The White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan landed in the camp.

After his feet touched the ground, the White Dragon Lord glanced at the two legendary powerhouses. One was a Legendary Mage wearing a purple robe, and the other was a Legendary Rank Warrior. The strength of these two could only be considered average among legendary powerhouses, and the White Dragon Lord quickly lost interest.

"Where is the tent for the Boar's Howl Adventurer Group?"

Hearing the White Dragon Lord's question, the Legendary Mage instinctively pointed toward a large tent in the west.

"Thank you."

The White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan walked toward the large tent in the west. He could sense the presence of the camp's final legendary powerhouse there, who was presumably the Skyhowler's subordinate.

At the same time, a Divine Power Gold Coin flew toward the two legendary powerhouses, floating right in front of the Legendary Mage.

Entering a privately run adventurer camp required an entry fee. The White Dragon Lord didn't know the exact cost, but one Divine Power Gold Coin was equivalent to ten thousand regular gold coins. It was more than enough to cover the entry fee for the two of them.

The Legendary Mage stared blankly at the floating Divine Power Gold Coin in front of him, feeling absolutely horrified. A mere casual question had completely overwhelmed his mind. The newcomer's strength was simply unfathomable. A phrase suddenly surfaced in his mind: spoken words become law.

"An Abomination Rank powerhouse?!"

"By the way, there might be some commotion in the Lord of Putrid Silt's territory tonight. There's no need to panic," the White Dragon Lord kindly reminded them. He was highly likely to cause some trouble for the Lord of Putrid Silt later, and the resulting disturbance might frighten the adventurers.

The White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan continued toward the tent of the other legendary powerhouse. The owner of the tent was a legendary half-elf ranger who was already waiting at the entrance, looking rather nervous.

The White Dragon Lord understood this reaction completely. Being suddenly approached by an unfamiliar powerhouse of another race was just like a tiger abruptly dropping in on a little white rabbit. It was only natural for this "little white rabbit" to feel uneasy.

The White Dragon Lord cast a soundproofing barrier.

"Don't worry. We are friends of Lady Namagani, and we came because of your purpose here. My companion and I would like to ask you for some information," the White Dragon Lord proactively explained before the half-elf ranger could ask.

The half-elf ranger breathed a secret sigh of relief. "My two lords, the Boar's Howl's only purpose in the Rotting Swamp is to hunt corrupted beasts. We don't have any other information."

"Your mission is to keep an eye on the perimeter of the Lord of Putrid Silt's territory and try to find clues regarding the relics of the Arcane Empire. We've already spoken with Lady Namagani, who is recuperating in the Star Realm. Ranger, Velen Woodstrider, also known as Short-Eared Rabbit."

The half-elf ranger's expression turned a bit awkward, but his inner wariness completely dissolved. After all, the White Dragon Lord was entirely familiar with his mission and had even called out a nickname known only to a few.

"Ahem! Two lords, please forgive my caution! Also, just call me Velen. Our captain always loves giving people weird nicknames!" Cursing inwardly, the half-elf led the White Dragon Lord and Mage Alan into the tent.

The three of them sat on the ground inside the tent. The half-elf ranger took out a pile of sundries from his spatial container.

"My two lords, we found these on the outskirts of the Lord of Putrid Silt's territory. We are certain that these relics of the Arcane Empire were deliberately discarded around the perimeter, and some were only recently thrown out."