r18novel Page 107
Page 107
Casalos nodded. "I understand. Thank you again for your help."
“Take care of yourself and your friends,” Silverwing said. “If you need help, remember to contact us.”
“I will,” Casalos solemnly promised, then watched the golden and silver dragons turn and return to the direction of the floating mountains.
With the golden and silver dragons gone, Casalos adjusted its flight path slightly, continuing southwest towards Waterdeep. The wide Shadrin River lay below on its left, while the ravaged Krypt's Gardens forest pointed to its right, and the Crown of the North was already visible on the horizon—Cassaros was flying high, with some distance still to go. It flew quickly, leaving the "unexpected" far behind.
Isis finally couldn't help but ask, "Mentor, who's next... which dragon will greet us? Uncle Kenneth?"
"Which one? No, no, you're wrong. There isn't any one, but rather..."
Following Casalos's gaze, the group saw the setting sun painting the shimmering Sword Bay with golden hues, outlining a golden horizon. Around Deepwater Mountain, where the Glorious City lay, countless dark shadows soared into the sky—dragons!
Hundreds of dragons soared above the city, forming a spectacular vortex. They shimmered with metallic brilliance in the afterglow of the setting sun, and melodious dragon songs echoed in the twilight, like a grand ball made up of dragons.
“Lady Fire-Haired…” Eton murmured again, repeating the name he should have abandoned, “What is this scene?”
Midnight and Kevoran were speechless with shock, while Isis looked at Casalos thoughtfully: "Mentor, you knew this would happen, didn't you?"
"Sigh..." Casalos let out a sigh of helplessness that was hard to describe.
77. The Tracker
The Death Hunter—the Betrayer Cyric—stood atop an abandoned lighthouse outside Waterdeep, shadows and decay clinging to his body like loyal servants.
“Another failure…” Its voice was like the sound of withered leaves rubbing together, soft yet filled with the mourning of death.
Cyric's bony claws braced against the tower's floor, their black, scimitar-like nails digging deep into the stone. This was the third time; the iron dragon, always spouting nonsense, managed to escape just as its hunters—or even itself—were about to surround and capture it.
"The gold and silver ornaments, which can never fall into the underworld, the floating mountain that should not exist in the mortal realm, should go to hell..." It hissed from its beak-like mouth, "...that group of singing dragons that appeared out of nowhere..."
It had initially believed its plan to be flawless. The Shadow Legion's attack in the Softwing Mountains was just the beginning; once the Iron Dragon left the protection of the Gold and Silver Dragons, it would fall into the numerous traps it had set. The nightmare creatures hidden near Red Pine Town, the abyssal minions lurking along the banks of the Shadrin River, and the series of deadly traps laid along the way—each one was enough to cause the young Iron Dragon a major setback.
But the cunning iron dragon seemed to have received advance warning, flying at an absurdly high speed without stopping, completely bypassing the carefully prepared ambush. By the time Cyrek reacted and used his newly discovered power to travel through the Underworld Passage to intercept it, Casalos had already reached the border of Waterdeep.
Cyric's gaze swept across the silhouette of the glorious city, especially the flocks of dragons circling above it. He had never seen so many singing dragons gathered together, their harmonious dragon songs echoing in the twilight, their melodious voices mingling with the sunset, as if they were holding a grand celebration.
“It’s unbelievable… unbelievable to dragons…” Cyric muttered to himself. “It’s just not normal for these singing dragons to show such enthusiasm for an iron dragon.”
They should have never interacted with each other, and any communication should have been simple business dealings, not this enthusiastic welcoming ceremony. What's even stranger is that this kind of welcoming ceremony wouldn't even happen when a metal dragon pays homage to the King of Justice, and Casalos is at best a "slightly talented" young iron dragon.
Cyric fell into deep thought. This iron dragon definitely held some secret, some secret capable of influencing the Song Dragon race. It needed more intelligence, a deeper understanding of Casaloz's activities in Waterdeep—or perhaps it should follow its inner voice and unleash a ruthless massacre upon the Song Dragon race.
A sliver of reason prevented him from choosing the latter, a path of madness. He muttered to himself, "Looks like we need to change our strategy. Since a direct attack isn't working, let's try something else."
The unprecedented dragon's form disappeared into the night as dusk faded, leaving only a whispered vow echoing in the air: "The game has only just begun..."
On the top floor of the Temple of the God of the Dead in Waterdeep, Melkor sat on a simple yet solemn black wooden chair, quietly observing the scene outside the window. As the God of Death, even now, trapped in a mortal body, His eyes still retained a transcendent insight.
A deepening decay had left indelible marks on His mortal body. His skin, speckled with decay, clung to his bones, and an ominous light flickered in his sunken eye sockets. His fingers tapped lightly on the armrests of the chair, a slow and orderly rhythm, like a silent lament.
There, hundreds of dragons circled in the air, their dragon songs converging into a heart-stirring welcoming song to greet the newly arrived iron dragon.
“That’s really interesting,” Melkor said softly, with a hint of barely perceptible self-deprecation in his voice. “Very interesting.”
“My lord,” a figure draped in black robes—if Cyrek were here, he would probably gasp in surprise, and Melkor would be astonished by their acquaintance—emerged from the shadows, his body hunched over, “everything is proceeding according to plan. The demons of Hades Fortress are answering the call of death, the passage to the underworld is about to open, and your glory will once again reign over Faerûn…”
"My dear"
Chapter 332
"Servant of Love," Melko said gently, his pale finger gracefully pointing out the window, "my old steward, look out. Tell me, what do you see?"
The man in black robes cautiously approached the window, gazing at the sky above the city: "I see many dragons flying around, they seem to be..." The priest suddenly stopped, as if realizing something, "...welcoming that iron dragon?"
“That’s right,” Melkor nodded slightly, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather. “Waterdeep has always been home to many dragons, but the dragons are the least willing to participate in these kinds of collective activities. They usually only shapeshift and mingle in human society, completely unaware of each other…”
Melkor stood up and walked to the window. His movements were slow and graceful, as if performing some ancient ritual: "And now, they've gathered together, singing for a young iron dragon as if it were some great leader or hero. Doesn't that seem strange?"
The man in black robes lowered his head and pondered for a moment: "This is indeed illogical. Perhaps this iron dragon possesses an influence we are unaware of? However, I've heard from other devout followers of death that the dragons outside Waterdeep have been like this for several years now?"
“Hmm? It’s been like this for several years now?” Melkor smiled slightly, a smile that looked unusually eerie on his decaying face. “This is a very interesting phenomenon, and it’s worth studying in depth.”
He turned around, sat back down in his chair, and said in a calm tone, “But in any case, these are just appearances. What matters is the Slate of Destiny and our plan.”
Melkor tapped his fingers on the armrest again, the rhythm slowing down: "We don't need to face that iron dragon directly. Waterdeep is a complex chessboard, with too many pieces to exploit."
His icy gaze swept over the man in black robes: "Send our men to monitor that iron dragon, every contact it has with the dragon, every conversation it has with that Mystra follower, every meeting it has with the Lord of Waterdeep... I need to know everything it does in Waterdeep!"
"I will obey your will, my lord."
“Meanwhile,” Melkor continued, his voice like a winter whisper, “get the demons ready. The Tablet of Destiny is in the fortress, and this iron dragon is clearly looking for it. We need to prepare to welcome our guests.”
The man in black bowed respectfully: "Everything will proceed according to your will, great Melkor."
Melkor nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the dragons outside the window: "Perhaps I should thank Bane; he always manages to provide some unexpected entertainment."
The temple fell silent once more, with only Melkor continuing to observe the night sky over Waterdeep and the horde of dragons gathered together. His pale fingers continued to tap on the armrests, and it was unknown what else troubled the death he represented.
"Little Casalos!" A graceful female dragon flapped her wings joyfully, tracing a beautiful arc in the air. "You've finally come back to see us! We've been waiting for you for so long!"
Casalos maintained a steady flight, trying to minimize the turbulence for the four human passengers in the "transport pod." Faced with the sudden appearance of dozens of flamboyant dragons, it could only awkwardly spread its wings.
“Looks like we’ve received a warm welcome once again,” Casalos said to the four people in the “transport pod,” then added in a low voice in Dragon Language, which only Isis could understand, “I kind of regret not leaving you behind and forcibly taking you back to Dragon Territory…”
78. "Welcome"
Isis chuckled, but quickly straightened her face: "Mentor, I feel like you're not being entirely sincere."
Before Casalos could refute, another dragon flew to its side. This was an adult female dragon with scales that shimmered with a pearly luster.
“I heard that the sisters who went with you last time all met their ideal partners,” the adult dragon affectionately touched Casalos’s wingtip with its wingtip. “Those who went to Damara to find you on their own also met their destined other halves. I’m too shy to come to you first, so how about I introduce you to a gentle and strong nickel dragon?”
“Don’t listen to her, little iron dragon,” the third dragon interrupted the conversation. This was a female who looked older, with elegant lightning patterns on her wing membranes. “You must introduce a strong and handsome young iron dragon to your aunt first… Actually, I think you’re quite good. If Kara hadn’t already flown away with you in the Jaeger, I would definitely want to get to know you better this time…”
Casalos's scales were almost standing on end as it struggled to maintain its flight while trying to calm the overly enthusiastic dragons.
"What are they saying?" Midnight asked curiously, looking out at the dragons through the window of the "transport pod." "Why do I feel like Casalos is behaving a little strangely?"
“They’re saying…” Isis hesitated, her expression strange, but finally forced a stiff face and said “seriously,” “They’re probably praising our mentor’s past achievements.”
Eden looked doubtful, while the warrior was completely absorbed in the awe of the spectacular scene before him.
“Everyone, everyone…” Casalos soothed the growing number of dragons around him in Dragon Language, “I know you’re all excited, but I have important business to attend to in Waterdeep. If you’re interested in… uh, those things, we can arrange another time to discuss them in detail.”
"Important matter?" a young female dragonfly flew closer and asked, "Is it more important than helping our poor sisters find suitable mates?"
Casalos coughed and accelerated slightly in the air: "The guests I brought are all warriors who have come to save the world."
This remark elicited a good-natured laugh, but the dragons did begin to disperse, making way for Casalos to fly to the city.
“Don’t worry, sisters,” Casalos said, raising her voice, “I’ll make sure to grant your requests once I’ve dealt with these little troubles!”
This promise sparked cheers, and the dragons retreated, forming a graceful aerial corridor that allowed Casalos to carry its human passengers smoothly to the dragon's lair in Waterdeep.
Casalos breathed a sigh of relief, swooped down, and landed swiftly on a spacious platform. This platform, specifically designed for large flying creatures, was located in the center of the newly built dragon habitat.
Thanks to Casaloz's efforts, this new town, originally built in the village below the cliff, has transformed from a rudimentary camp into a well-equipped community. Dragon Habitat cleverly blends various architectural styles, from spacious, multi-level steel-framed structures suitable for dragons to ingenious passageways convenient for humanoids. There are dedicated meeting places, rest areas, and even several shops catering specifically to dragons.
“Finally rid of those overly enthusiastic ‘fans’,” Casalos muttered to himself, then turned to the four people who had just stepped off the “transport pod”. “Welcome to the Dragon's Nest in Waterdeep City, one of the fruits of my labor over the past few years.”
Isis looked around, her eyes filled with astonishment: "Mentor, how did you do that? I remember a few years ago, the residents of Waterdeep were filled with fear and hostility toward dragons."
“Public relations marketing, public relations activities, and a little bit of… economic incentives,” Casalos blinked. “It’s not that complicated. Dragons have always existed in Waterdeep, but in the past they mostly lived among humans in disguise. I just gave them a place where they could show their true forms.”
“It’s unbelievable,” Midnight exclaimed. “Dragons have always been considered dangerous monsters.”
“That’s the power of prejudice,” Casalos flapped his wings. “Fortunately, the people of Glorious City are more open-minded, especially after seeing the economic benefits and security that dragons bring.”
Kevoran asked curiously, "Did those dragons really come to see you?"
Chapter 333
"
Casalos coughed somewhat awkwardly. "Uh, that's a complicated topic. We can discuss it later. Now, we need to get to the meeting room quickly; some important people are waiting for us."
It led the four through the central plaza of Dragon's Lair towards a large building that blended various architectural styles. This building possessed the typical stone structure of Waterdeep, the elegant curves of elven architecture, and the distinctly sturdy defensive design of dwarves. It was a meeting hall designed by the Dragon's Lair engineering team for dragons and various humanoid races, adaptable to the needs of creatures of different sizes.
“Mentor,” Isis asked in a low voice, moving closer to Casalos as she walked, “those dragons really were because…”
“Well,” Casalos didn’t mince words with his apprentice, “to make a long story short, Ratambirol and its mate, Taunamora Esmura, in order to get rid of the harassment of hordes of female dragons, asked me to set up a ‘matchmaking platform’ in Waterdeep for these older single women. This platform provides the dragons with intelligence and resources, and is responsible for finding them altosaurs or dragon companions. You know, male dragons are incredibly rare on the continent of Faerûn, and altosaurs…”
Isis's eyes widened: "So you're... the owner of a matchmaking agency?"
“Uh, sort of?” Casalos quickened his pace slightly. “That’s not important. If you’re interested, you can handle this matter in the future. I’ve been wanting to run away for a while now… What’s important now is that we’re about to meet some important people, so please be polite.”
"Heh, you still care about etiquette?"
The doors to the conference hall opened before them, revealing a spacious and brightly lit hall. Magic lamps hung from the high vaulted ceiling, illuminating the entire space. At the center stood a classic large round table, surrounded by chairs of various sizes to accommodate the different physical and psychological needs of different races—just like the one in the Astral Realm.
Around the round table, several familiar figures were waiting. A fanged dragon with bared fangs and claws, each spiky scale like finely polished ivory; an aged bronze dragon, its eyes gleaming with wisdom, as if deep in thought; an elderly man with white hair, smoking a pipe, leaning on a staff inlaid with mysterious runes; a middle-aged man in a black silk robe, his face serious; and a nobleman in magnificent attire, standing tall and exuding an extraordinary air.
“Ah, Casalos,” the man in magnificent attire spoke first, his voice tinged with relief, “we’ve finally arrived.”
“Duke of Piergellen,” Casalos said with a dragon-like bow, “it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Fanglong interrupted the pleasantries gruffly: "Stop with the pleasantries, Casalos. You said you'd be here soon, and we've been waiting all day!"
“Don’t be so irritable, Ramosadar,” the bronze dragon said gently. “The important thing is that it has arrived safely now.”
"Safe? Ha!" Fanglong-Romosada scoffed. "I bet this guy has gotten himself into a lot of trouble along the way."
“Actually, there was a little hiccup,” Casalos admitted, then turned to the red-robed elder. “Master Elminster, it’s been a few days. Did you have a good time in Waterdeep?”
“As you can see,” Elminster’s eyelids twitched, then he replied calmly, “I’m busy saving this troubled world!”
“These are the people you were referring to,” the man in black robes—Kelben Black Staff—examined the four people behind Casalos, his gaze lingering on Isis for a moment before asking his teacher, Elminster, “They look quite…young.”
“Kelburn, youth doesn’t equate to incompetence,” Casalos shrugged. “This is Isis, my apprentice, with the talent to see through the warp and weft of magic. This is Midnight, a brilliant young arcanist. I bet your spellcasting skills are currently inferior to these two’s toenails.”
Kelburn rolled his eyes: "I can't cast spells properly right now!"
“That’s more like it.” Casalos’s iron beak snapped shut, and Elminster turned his head to the window, quietly admiring the scenery. It was good that this gossipy dragon cub had its eye on his student instead of him.
79. Before the war
"Alright, now that everyone's here," Pierre Galen clapped his hands, "let's get down to business!"
Just as everyone was about to take their seats, Casalos suddenly turned to Fang Dragon: "Speaking of which, Fang, you're really unreliable. The last two times I asked you for help, I never saw you."
"What?!" Romosada's eyes widened, his distinctive fanged dragon mouth opening to reveal a row of sharp teeth. "Me, unreliable? What kind of lousy signal did you send! I set off immediately after receiving it, traveling thousands of miles to get there, and I haven't even seen a trace of you!"
"What do you say, Thinker?" Casalos turned to the bronze dragon, who nodded slowly.
"I must agree," the aged bronze dragon said gently, "Casaros, your communication is indeed somewhat... delayed. When we received your message and rushed to the desert last time, you had already vanished."
“I sent the signal before the Dragon Tournament!” Casalos stared, raising the scales on his tail.
"You said it yourself, it's a dragon conference. Isn't it normal for dragons to hold a meeting for months? Who knew that so many dragons could gather together, have a meeting in the morning, and then storm into the demiplane in the afternoon?" Shaving Tooth retorted.
Casalos blinked, unable to refute the statement. If it weren't for the sudden, powerful charm from the pointy-eared Futa, the conference might have dragged on for ten days or even half a month. It shook its head, then changed the subject, citing the urgency of the situation: "Alright, we can talk about these trivial matters later. We face a more pressing problem now." It turned to Elminster, "Master Elminster, since you arrived at Waterdeep first, have you discovered any trace of the second Tablet of Fate?"
Elminster's heart skipped a beat: Why was this gossipy fellow targeting him again? He ruffled his white hair in frustration, shaking his head helplessly. "Nothing. We've used every connection and resource at our disposal, even the Harpists' Alliance's intelligence network is involved in the search, but still no concrete leads."
"The Harpists' Alliance? Could it be that Storm Silverhand intercepted the intelligence they gathered and deliberately didn't give it to you?" Casalos watched as the old man's face grew increasingly grim, and he pressed on, "You know her crazy personality. It's perfectly normal for her to do something like this just to get your attention."
Piergellen and Kelben Black Staff nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement. Ilminster noticed the commotion and turned to stare at them. Piergellen admired the patterns on his armor, while Kelben Black Staff looked as if he were lost in thought. The old sage's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“I told you that your coming here was pointless. This Deepwater City isn’t the Deepwater City you remember. If there were any news here, I would have known by now. I have every reason to suspect that you used a magical artifact to teleport here just to spend a few days in the red-light district. If I get the chance, I will definitely tell Shinbu.”
Elminster's face flushed red. "You dragons spouting nonsense! Look at the mess you've made! I haven't been back for years, and Glorious City is practically a dragon city! With so many dragons crammed here, even if someone knew the whereabouts of the Tablet of Destiny, they wouldn't dare utter a word!" He gestured to Kelben Black Staff to speak up for him, but the latter, who had just snapped out of his daze, pretended not to see him and, like the son of a paladin, lowered his head to study the patterns on the table.
"Mentor!" Isis quickly stepped in to smooth things over: "Masters and dragons, the most important thing now is to find the Tablet of Destiny, return it to the Supreme God, and end this disaster. We should focus our efforts on discussing how to achieve this goal."
Her words seemed to have an effect, Elminster and Car...
Chapter 334
Saloz fell silent. The atmosphere around the round table eased slightly, and everyone finally took their seats.
Isis turned to Casalos and tentatively asked, "Mentor, did you already have a target in mind?"
Casalos held his tail high and bent his neck into an S-shape: "Of course I know who has the second Tablet of Destiny."
Everyone/Dragon asked in unison, "Who?"
Casalos turned his head to look out the window, his nostrils flaring towards a towering black spire: "Who else could it be but Melkor, the god of the dead, whose saints are now in Waterdeep, watching us."
All eyes followed Casalos's gaze. On the top floor of the temple tower, a decaying figure was indeed watching them through the window, and even from this distance, the aura of death emanating from that gaze could be felt.
The gaze of the decaying figure in the temple tower instantly heightened the tension in the meeting hall. Piergalen unconsciously touched the hilt of his sword, Kelben Black Staff fumbled for spell materials beneath his black robes, Eden and Kavoran exchanged glances, only Elminster and the two dragons maintained a facade of calm.