A few decades ago, a re nap for the long-lived giant dragons, was but a blink for the Mother of Evil Dragons who had lived for endless ages—considering that Tiamat’s sches are gauged on a centennial scale.
Yet, within this brief period, Cassius grew at an exaggerated speed into an existence beyond that of a demigod, and the Ashen Empire under his rule expanded rapidly, leaping into a behemoth capable of influencing the world’s balance.
Once, He deliberately allowed Cassius to roam free, intending to exploit and harvest him once this Red Dragon grew sufficiently.
But the situation spiraled out of His control.
Tiamat indeed did not foresee that Cassius’s growth speed would be so astonishing, transforming in a re few decades into a major headache that even He found difficult to handle.
"Damn Variant Dragon!" the Five-Colored Dragon Queen cursed inwardly again, eyes blazing with anger.
At this point, the conflict between the Dragon Worship Church and the Ashen Empire is irreconcilable. This arrogantly reckless Ashen Emperor absolutely won’t bow to His rule; not only has he failed to beco an aid for the Dragon Worship Church’s invasion of the world, but he has also beco the greatest obstacle for the Mother of Evil Dragons to descend upon the mortal realm.
Moreover, Tiamat can feel countless gazes from the Outer Planes keenly observing everything happening here.
—Certainly including Bahamut, the God of Good Dragons, and those human gods who view Him as an enemy.
If He forcefully intervenes, crossing barriers and consuming His divinity and divine power, those deities lurking in the shadows, eager to move, will definitely seize the opportunity to launch an attack on His Divine Realm.
If Bahamut decides to protect this Red Dragon Emperor, even if He personally intervenes, it will be hard to achieve the goal.
This truly is sowhat not worth the risk.
At present, if one wants to completely eliminate this Red Dragon, either strike when the opponent is lax, expending precious divinity and risking divine status erosion to deliver divine punishnt, killing him in one blow; or descend to the mortal world through the Dragon Worship Church’s ritual, crushing him with the power of a true form.
And just as Cassius said, entangling with him here is aningless, only wasting strength in vain, tarnishing His renown, yet unable to do anything about him.
With this thought, Tiamat gazed at Cassius with a hateful, hostile glare, and that hazy phantom gradually dissipated, transforming into countless points of light, the vast pressure of divine power also abruptly evaporated, vanishing without a trace.
In the end, the Mother of Evil Dragons left only a sentence before disappearing from the world: "Cassius, rember your deeds today. In the not-so-distant future, you will pay a heavy price for it!"
Near the Sword Bay Region, there are several renowned cities, such as Waterdeep City, Elturel, Neverwinter City, etc. Waterdeep is built on the capital of the Elf Empire Ilfaen’s old site—Erin Vier, with nurous divine temples. The Miracle Temple is the grandest Magic Goddess Temple in the ga, possessing magnificent towers embedded with colorful paintings and magical decorations in a lavish Baroque style, while Neverwinter City leans towards Gothic architecture, forming after hundreds of years of human settlent developnt in Aegostor. The story’s Main City, Bod Gate, is the largest and most prosperous trade city-state in the Sword Bay Region, from nobles to commoner thieves, a mix of all kinds, becoming "a hotbed of conspirators" as dubbed by adventurers. The na Bod Gate cos from a hero, the Grey Port adventurer Bodlan, who explored the continent beyond the Sword Sea, returned with wealth to Grey Port, and led a team to establish the city here. According to resident status, Bod Gate is divided into the noble Upper City District and commoner Lower District, alongside the Main City Outer City District, scattered around Chenyi Mountain, with the gate dividing the Upper and Lower Districts called Bod Gate, naming the entire city after it, also serving as a monunt for the city’s founder Bodlan. Currently, Bod Gate is ruled by a four-person council, all of whom are Great Dukes, one of whom is the leader of the council, and if the vote is tied, Grand Duke Elder Ravenclaw will make the decision. The Upper City District’s safety is handled by elite official police forces called Watch, while other areas are under the protection of a rcenary group nad "Flaming Fist." Grand Duke Elder Ravenclaw is also the highest leader of the rcenary group, headquartered at Bodlan Sea Tower, Bod Gate’s strongest fortress against seaborne invasions, while like a crescent encircling Bod Gate’s economic lifeline—Grey Harbor, where hundreds of rchant ships co and go daily, bringing gold coins, along with greed and sin. The Upper City District is topographically higher, primarily composed of the Castle District, Temple District, Manoburn District, and Wide Alley District, filled with nurous religious buildings, Miracle Hall, and Supre Miracle House, all serving as the Church centers of the God of Craft, Gund, in Bod Gate. Miracle Hall showcases Gund’s great inventions, while Supre Miracle House simultaneously functions as a workshop. The Lower District is primarily made of stone houses, partitioned into six areas: Sea Tower District, Blonrich District, Steep District, Crowded Side District, East Road District, and Branpton District. Middle-class individuals usually live in Blonrich District adjacent to the privileged in the Upper City; the East Road District near the linkage with the Outer City Stone Lizard Gate tends to be more mixed with fish and dragons, containing many bustling bars and cheap inns. The Sea Tower District is where the Flaming Fist rcenary group is stationed; the rcenary group’s headquarters Bodlan Sea Tower is built on the largest rocky offshore island away from the Sea Tower District. Branpton District and Steep District are relatively rundown, serving as living communities for sailors and laborers. The Outer City District spreads along the Chongsar River, accumulating with temporary buildings and slums, with a landmark stone bridge spanning the Chongsar River—Flying Dragon Crossroad, gathered with many vendors, even wooden boards expanded the bridge surface, adding many buildings atop, where law and order practically non-existent, even the protection range of the Flaming Fist rcenary group here is very limited, so unable to settle in the city poor or criminals gather here. The mosses on the sewer dos glint with a ghostly green under dim phosphorous lights, murky sewage flooding over boots, each step stirring up sticky ’glug’ sounds. Purple-black sli trickles from wall cracks, converging towards a drainage hole like veins—unique neuro-corrosive substances of the Spirit Sucking Monster Nest, inhaling it would induce auditory hallucinations, as if countless tiny tendrils were wriggling inside one’s ear canal. Suddenly, a "click" resonated from beyond a ruptured iron pipe, resembling sothing contorting and squeezing through a narrow space. A Spirit Sucking Monster burst out from underwater, a pale humanoid form swathed in sludge, octopus-like head tentacles vibrating at high frequencies, discharging visible purple mind shock wave ripples. The helt of the forefront guard dented, eyeballs bursting into a bloody mist under increased cranial pressure; the second person hadn’t even scread before tentacles pierced into the ear hole, spinal cord withdrawn like a marionette from its shell; the sole survivor staggered back, the firearm’s discharge sound being completely devoured by the subfrequency screech emitted by the pack of Spirit Sucking Monsters. Evidently, these Spirit Sucking Monsters had undergone tactical training. Two feigned attacking individuals slapped water with tentacles, raising a mist filled with corrosive liquid obscuring vision; the third one hung upside down from the ceiling, adhering to the guard’s skull with suckers, tentacle tips precisely piercing the foran magnum—not killing imdiately, but instead puppet-like compelling the captive to turn around, trembling hands loading ammunition for his companions’ firearms. At this mont, the fourth Spirit Sucking Monster was carving open the chest cavity of a fallen guard with the bone blade of its knuckles, extracting a warm liver to stuff into its oral apparatus, pale-yellow digestive fluid dripping from the lower jaw, etching threads of white smoke on the ground. Three patrolling guards had just lifted their lanterns when the sewage suddenly exploded! The four beings weren’t completely dead. The guards’ remains abruptly writhed, crawling upward, translucent Spirit Sucking Monster larvae tendrils writhing out from neck wounds, pupils dilating into a murky milky white. He grabbed a dagger, driving it into his forr comrade, from his throat creeping out a non-human synthetic tone: "Skull...for the brainlord...". The true horror had just erged—the distant sewage pool began boiling, more pale figures surfaced, dragging ten or more captives encased in mucous cocoons, their human faces twisted into silent screams beneath the sheath.
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