Blooddancer's Dragonfire proved superior in sheer intensity, overwhelming the Hellhound's flas. Lingering fire washed over the Hellhound's left head and shoulder, tearing its flesh open and drawing out agonized howls.
Ashshadow seized the opening and struck again, darting in from blind spots and weakly defended angles. In an instant, the Hellhound was forced entirely onto the defensive.
For all its imnse strength and three heads, it had no effective way to strike enemies that moved so freely through the air. It roared in fury, all three heads spewing pillars of fla skyward, yet Blooddancer and Ashshadow always slipped past them, using their speed and altitude to evade with ease.
The Hellhound's four limbs slamd against the ground as it tried to leap upward. But its massive bulk and the confines of the underground space made it impossible to reach the two dragons.
The fight turned into a battle of attrition.
Wounds spread across the Hellhound's body. Its black-gray hide was scorched, cracked, and split by Dragonfire, blood spilling freely from the burns. Its movents slowed, exhaustion creeping into its roars.
Blooddancer released a thunderous dragon's roar and climbed to its highest point. Then it folded its wings and plunged downward at a near-vertical angle, aiming straight for the Hellhound's most vulnerable point: the spine along its back. Its jaws opened wide, releasing a torrent of searing Dragonfire.
At the sa ti, Ashshadow moved in perfect coordination, attacking from the front to draw the attention of the central head, blasting it with Dragonfire to disrupt its reactions.
"Pfft—sizzle!"
The Dragonfire punched straight through the Hellhound's thinner back fur and bored deep into its body.
The massive beast jerked violently, all three heads letting out shrill, pain-filled shrieks. Its body seed to lose all control as blood sprayed uncontrollably from its mouth, nose, eyes, and wounds.
Its entire form began to swell and twist grotesquely.
"BOOM!!!"
A deafening explosion tore through the Hellhound from within. Blood and fire burst outward, shredding its body apart. Severed limbs and burning flesh scattered in all directions, sending towering waves through the surrounding magma.
When the shockwave finally faded, the underground cavern was left with only the roar of churning lava and the low growls of dragons.
The Hellhound that had blocked their path was now nothing more than a field of burning debris.
Lo Quen leapt down from Blooddancer's back and stood atop the scorching black obsidian platform, staring at the remains with a deep frown.
Why would such a legendary creature exist beneath Hyrkoon? Could this ancient kingdom, buried beneath endless yellow sands, be hiding a secret that connected to so terrifying dinsion? And where, exactly, lay the answer foretold by the Prophecy of the House of the Undying?
Lo Quen shook his head and turned his gaze toward the magma. At that mont, a surge of Dragon's Soul burst from the Hellhound's remains and flowed into his body.
He glanced at his system interface. Only ten thousand Dragon's Souls.
It seed the system didn't consider this type of Hellhound to be a high-tier creature.
After checking his gains, he mounted Blooddancer once more. Ashshadow followed close behind as the two colossal dragons carried him deeper into the blazing underground world.
They soared over more roiling rivers of magma and passed through eerie forests ford from burning black stalagmites. The stench of sulfur in the air grew ever more suffocating.
After an unknown stretch of travel, the flas and smoke ahead gradually thinned, revealing a massive rock arch ford entirely by nature.
Beyond the arch stood an enormous bronze gate.
It was ancient beyond imagining. A thick layer of verdigris coated its surface, yet traces of its forr grandeur and exquisite craftsmanship were still unmistakable.
Carved into the gate was a vast and unsettling bas-relief.
At its center were groups of humans, their faces twisted with terror as they fled in desperate panic. All of them were looking back toward a slab of black stone that towered in the middle of the scene.
The stone was sared with thick, crimson blood, as though it had only just borne witness to a brutal sacrifice.
Standing atop the black stone was a single figure.
The carving style used for this figure was distinct from the rest. He gripped a massive sword with its tip pointed downward, as if a solemn ritual had just been completed.
What made Lo Quen's gaze sharpen was this: every other elent of the relief was raised, yet the greatsword alone was carved inward, forming a recessed groove perfectly shaped to match the blade.
And the shape of that groove…
Lo Quen's heart jolted.
Almost instinctively, he unfastened the greatsword he always carried at his waist—the legendary weapon from Starfall, Dawn.
Before his departure, Qyburn had told him of Dawn's secret.
Dawn was very likely entwined with the ancient legend of the Bloodstone Emperor, a crucial key leading straight to the truth.
That was why Lo Quen had brought it with him into the Great Sand Sea, never expecting that its significance would be confird here.
He drew a deep breath, stepped forward, and lifted the heavy Dawn with both hands. Carefully, reverently, he aligned it with the sword-shaped recess and set it into place.
"Clang—"
A clear, resonant tallic chi rang out, like a lock that had slept for thousands of years finally finding its one true key.
In the next instant, everything changed.
The entire bronze gate began to shake violently. Layers of verdigris flaked away, revealing the older, rougher tal beneath.
The carved lines across the door panels lit up one after another, glowing with a dark crimson light, like blood coursing through veins.
A deep rumble echoed from beyond the gate, as though sothing vast and ancient was stirring awake.
Amid the grinding scrape of tal, the imnse bronze doors slowly opened inward, leaving a gap just wide enough for Lo Quen and the dragons to pass through.
Beyond the gate was no sea of molten lava, but a cold, silent space.
It resembled a colossal tomb, the air heavy with the dust of countless ages. The vaulted ceiling rose impossibly high, vanishing into darkness.
At the center of the chamber floated a heart-shaped phantom ford of red light.
It beat slowly, as if alive. With each contraction and expansion, it radiated a blaze-like glow that washed the entire tomb in blood-red light.
Directly beneath the phantom heart stood a massive coffin carved from so unknown black stone.
Strangely enough, the coffin was open, its lid nowhere to be seen.
Lo Quen had only just stepped into the eerie tomb when a deep, ancient voice echoed from within the pulsing heart of light:
"For thousands of years, you are the first to set foot here, child. Tell , who are you?"
As the voice spoke, a clear beam of light descended from the heart phantom.
The light gathered and took on human form.
It was the image of an ancient king.
He wore armor that was simple yet imposing, planted a greatsword firmly against the ground, and bore a tall, strangely shaped crown. His long black hair hung loose around his shoulders.
Most unsettling of all were his eyes, like blood frozen in place, exuding a faint but sinister aura.
Lo Quen studied the projected figure. Drawing together Qyburn's research, the prophecies of the House of the Undying, and the strange signs surrounding this place, a na nearly escaped his lips.
He did not answer the question. Instead, his expression hardened as he asked calmly:
"Perhaps I should call you Azor Ahai? Or the Bloodstone Emperor?"
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