Chapter Forty-Nine: The Abyssal Demon Dragon

Passing through Lancelot to reach the Gate of Space had long been an idea in Gong Hao’s mind.

But he had no other choice.

That was why he needed to witness the operation of the Gate of Space with his own eyes, to understand its mysteries.

The Gate of Space itself was not dangerous, but sleeping beside it was an Abyssal Dragon—a terrifying creature that had once forced even Lancelot to flee in panic.

To admire a door in its presence… that was no easy feat.

“I must be mad, Shuy, and you’re just as mad. We’re actually going to provoke that beast. My god, what goes on in your head? Just to see that door? Is it really worth it? I could tell you exactly what it looks like,” Lancelot grumbled incessantly.

He lamented agreeing to Gong Hao’s request to take him to the deepest, most dangerous part of the central region, just for a glimpse of that door.

“I’m not a painter, Lord Lancelot. What I want to know isn’t what it looks like, but its meaning and the principles behind its operation,” Gong Hao replied with a smile.

“You’re a madman, Shuy.”

“Alchemists are all mad. Georg Lambert was a madman, or he never could have created alchemy. Electra was a madman too, pushing alchemy to its pinnacle. Even my mentor, Master Hynes, is a madman—otherwise, he couldn’t have devoted twenty years to studying alchemy here. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’ve said this to his face, and he always takes it as a compliment. People say genius borders on madness. To uncover unknown secrets, we’re willing to risk everything, even our lives. So, I hope I am that kind of madman as well,” Gong Hao said, his words full of hidden meaning.

The central region of Purgatory Isle’s forest covered about twenty square kilometers.

Though Lancelot had entered and exited the central region many times, he had never truly ventured deep inside.

Once, for the sake of a spirit seed, he went to the very depths and barely escaped with his life. Now, once again, he had no choice but to accompany Gong Hao into this perilous zone.

Lancelot hoped the dragon had returned to its slumber, though he knew the chances were slim.

As they went deeper, the once-dense forest grew sparse, and desolation began to surround them. In the heart of the jungle, there were no birdsong, and few magical beasts survived here. The Abyssal Dragon had almost exclusive dominion over the central region, casting an eerie, sinister atmosphere across the land.

Treading on fallen leaves behind Lancelot, Gong Hao could see that Lancelot was growing more cautious by the minute.

Gone was his casual stride; now, he chose his steps carefully, landing silently wherever possible.

That meant danger was close.

Gong Hao could sense the lodger within his body beginning to stir. After lying dormant for so long, it was finally becoming restless.

A powerful summons resonated from the depths of his soul.

The lodger’s emotions surged, though Gong Hao couldn’t tell if it was excitement or fear.

He understood at once: this unknown creature had clearly sensed the powerful presence nearby and was reacting instinctively.

“Lancelot.”

“Hush!” Lancelot immediately turned around and made a silencing gesture.

“I just wanted to say you can wait here. I can go the rest of the way alone,” Gong Hao whispered.

Lancelot’s eyes flared with anger, clearly offended by the suggestion—an affront to a warrior’s pride.

“Don’t misunderstand, Lancelot. I think it’s better for you to stand guard here than to go in with me,” Gong Hao explained softly.

Lancelot looked at him in surprise.

“That dragon is powerful, isn’t it?”

Lancelot nodded.

“You can’t defeat it?”

Reluctantly, Lancelot nodded again.

“So, you see, whether you go in with me or I go alone, there’s little difference. Together, we’re still no match for it. And since you’ve crossed swords with it before, I imagine it doesn’t like you much. But I’m different. I’m weak—so weak, it may not even find killing me worth the effort. Just as humans don’t stomp on every ant they see, only those that might pose a threat but aren’t quite a match. See what I mean?”

Lancelot understood.

Gong Hao went on, “Let me go alone, you stay here. Trust me—and my experience dealing with beasts. Even man-eaters need their rest after feeding. They don’t do things without benefit, and magic beasts are much the same. If you come, it’ll feel threatened, and I might get caught in the crossfire. So please, listen to me. You’re not abandoning me; you’re protecting me, only your duty ends here.”

“Alright,” Lancelot nodded.

Gong Hao smiled. “Trust me, Lancelot, I’ll be fine. I have this strange feeling, as if something is calling me there, as if a voice echoes from the depths of my soul, telling me I am safe… This feeling’s been lingering in my mind for a long time, and now it’s stronger than ever. So, Lancelot, remember—whatever happens, do not follow me in.”

With those words, he strode into the heart of the forest.

In the deepest, shadowed recesses, a crimson portal pulsed, expelling flame-like energy. This was the Gate of Space leading to the Abyss.

It did not really resemble a door, but more a gigantic energy vortex, or a tunnel of fire. Even from afar, one could feel the titanic storm of energy within.

What was remarkable was that this overwhelming energy did not spill out, but raged ceaselessly inside the passage, like a caged beast battering all sides, never escaping—thus maintaining the gateway between two worlds, but ensuring that none could easily pass through.

Gong Hao saw no sign of the fabled dragon nearby; it seemed to be sleeping somewhere out of sight.

That emboldened him further.

He crept closer, stopping at the furthest point where he could feel the radiating energy—like a fire burning before him, just beyond his reach.

Gong Hao slowly raised his hand.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t touch that,” a deep voice rumbled behind him.

Gong Hao spun around.

A massive dragon’s head loomed before him.

It was crowned with savage horns and its body stretched dozens of meters; its teeth alone rivaled Lancelot’s enchanted longsword.

Gong Hao had every reason to believe that if this dragon so much as lifted a claw and brought it down, he would be nothing but pulp.

It was hard to imagine how Lancelot had escaped this beast’s clutches.

The dragon’s breath was like a hurricane, sending Gong Hao swaying, and yet when it approached, it made no sound.

This confirmed its reputation: the Abyssal Dragon relied on more than brute strength to prove its might.

It possessed formidable intelligence—it could speak in human tongue.

If it had any flaw, it was perhaps the pair of wings on its back, now reduced to half their original length.

Yet, faced with this sudden, terrifying creature, Gong Hao laughed.

Though he had never spoken to a dragon before, nothing prevented him from conversing with any intelligent being.

To him, a powerful foe was not frightening; what was frightening was a powerful and ignorant one.

This dragon could speak, was intelligent, and instead of killing him outright, had even warned him of the portal’s danger. That meant there was hope for a good beginning between them.

“I hope I haven’t disturbed your slumber, though I did try to tread lightly,” Gong Hao began.

A look of surprise flickered in the dragon’s vast eyes.

It seemed amazed by the youth’s composure.

Especially the way he spun his secret intrusion into a polite apology—such rhetorical sleight of hand was, in fact, rather admirable.

The dragon said, “In fact, I was sleeping, but you weren’t the one who woke me.”

Gong Hao paused, struck by a strange feeling at the dragon’s words.

He glanced at himself; the lodger inside him was surging with emotion.

The dragon leisurely brought its massive head close to Gong Hao.

The immense pressure nearly suffocated him, but the dragon sternly warned, “Don’t step back, or the energy from the portal will tear you to pieces.”

Gong Hao edged sideways, so he didn’t face the dragon directly, nor did he have his back to the portal that seemed a living, deadly trap.

He knew it hardly made a difference, but it brought some comfort.

“I suppose the presence that woke you is the lodger currently residing in my body?” Gong Hao phrased his words carefully, not yet ready to presume the nature of the relationship between the dragon and the being within him.

“Lodger?” The dragon’s eyes flashed with mockery. “Is that what you call my child?”

Child? Gong Hao’s mind went blank for an instant.

The creature in his body was this dragon’s child?

Damn, I should have guessed!

He suddenly remembered: a creature with more than three dormant forms must be at least a level-twelve powerhouse, and on Purgatory Isle, the only being above level twelve was this Abyssal Dragon.

The lodger being the dragon’s child was only natural.

No wonder, as he drew near, the little thing inside him grew so agitated—it knew it was home.

No wonder the dragon awoke at his approach, yet kindly warned him not to touch the portal… clearly, it wasn’t for his own safety.

“Oh, I apologize, mighty dragon. I didn’t know it was your child, and I wasn’t the one who took it from your side.”

“I know. It was that scoundrel outside who did it—that’s why I was hunting him. Do you think I care for the weak little seeds he collects? Or that I’d be bored enough to stomp an ant just for wandering near me? I wanted my child back! But damn him, he broke through and escaped during our fight. If I’m not mistaken, you helped him, didn’t you?” The dragon’s voice was cold and menacing.

Gong Hao broke out in a cold sweat. “Yes, my lord, and I hope you won’t hold it against me. After all… your child is in my belly.”

Damn, that sounded so awkward!

But the dragon broke into a strange, rumbling laughter, like a typhoon stirring up a tidal wave, sending chills down Gong Hao’s spine.

Then it threw back its head and let out a deafening roar that shook the heavens, sending beasts fleeing and birds scattering; even Hynes in the castle heard it.

Lancelot turned pale.