Ashen Dragon

In the dark dungeon, the light of the torches flickered.

From time to time, there were sounds of cursing and screams, and the Bugbear Guards wandered back and forth.

Alger leaned silently against the stone wall, his thin figure and pale, unnatural complexion indicating that he had not seen sunlight for a long time.

There were several horizontal lines carved on the wall.

He used these to keep track of time.

But as dozens of days passed, he could no longer distinguish time in this dark dungeon.

After that interrogation, he had been locked in the dungeon with no one caring about him.

There were no imagined tortures, no deliberate mistreatment, just eating some unknown mush daily and staying in the dark dungeon day after day.

Besides thinking and sleeping, there didn't seem to be anything else he could do.

The Bugbear Guards at the door were impossible to bribe, these simple-minded muscle-bound fellows only chatted with their comrades and had no ambitions of their own.

But through their words, he learned that the Ashen Nest was growing stronger, and that terrifying Red Dragon was becoming even more powerful.

Alger had thought of fasting, accepting death calmly.

But whenever he recalled the words the Red Dragon had spoken, he felt like a fog was shrouding his memory. He knew far too little.

And what made him feel most horrified was that the Red Dragon seemed to have spoken no lies.

His Grace had never left the castle; he had never basked in the sunlight. From the moment Alger had entered, His Grace seemed always accompanied by shadows.

When he executed the Tieflings, they didn't display the power of Devils, instead, they seemed like ordinary innocent beings. That scene didn't give him any sense of revengeful delight; on the contrary, he often felt a pang of guilt.

There was often a smell of blood in the castle's backyard.

Originally, as the family's Death Warrior, Alger didn't care much about these things, but when all these details came together, it seemed too coincidental.

He needed the truth before he died.

Alger often told himself not to think about it, reminding himself repeatedly of the old instructor's teaching: "Do not question right or wrong, just execute orders."

But in this empty cell, he couldn't help but think. What else could he do?

"I need the truth."

Alger muttered to himself.

He didn't realize that his mindset had undergone a drastic change, the once loyal dog of the family was no more.

"Eagle, how long do you think we'll stay here?"

Alger stroked his companion's feathers.

The Giant Eagle just watched him, lightly flapping its wings, indicating that it also longed to leave.

"Maybe we'll get out soon."

"Maybe…"

Alger gave a bitter smile.

"That Dragon could sleep for decades, forgetting us, leaving us to become skeletons in this dungeon."

This could truly happen.

Once, a White Dragon kidnapped several nobles for ransom, but it slept for over thirty years. When it woke up, those nobles had already died in the dungeon.

However, the commotion at the cell's door broke his train of thought.

Alger looked up and saw a few Bugbear Guards carrying iron chains approaching.

"Human, come out."

"Master wants to see you."

The Bugbear Guards said unceremoniously.

"Finally… is it time?"

Alger muttered to himself.

This time, he didn't resist pointlessly, just allowed the Bugbear Guards to take him away. He was ready to face the truth.

...

After a long time, the black cloth on Alger's face was removed.

It was still that familiar cave.

The Red Dragon in front of him was even stronger and larger.

"Long time no see, Alger Yorman."

Cassius's golden eyes carried a hint of mockery.

Here it was again, that look, that feeling of being controlled, toyed with—made Alger very uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his tone calm.

"What do you want to deceive me with this time?"

"What kind of schemes are you trying to make me help accomplish?"

But Cassius wasn't angry at all, he just laughed and said, "I merely wanted you to meet an old friend."

"Mezulash, come out."

Hearing this name, Alger's expression changed instantly, his hand instinctively reaching to his waist.

In Rackman Territory, that name was well-known. He was the leader of the Tiefling Resistance Army, a target that the Northwind Eagle Guards would kill at all costs.

And also… his childhood friend.

They had grown up together in Northwind Castle, once inseparable until—Alger's parents died, and he entered Rackman Castle with hatred.

Mezulash stepped out from the shadows, looking indifferently at the human not far away, a trace of hatred flickering deep within his dark pupils.

The Tiefling had once witnessed his former friend, as the Duke's loyal servant, wield the killing blade against his kin. If it weren't for the presence of the Red Dragon, he would have killed him on the spot.

"Why… is he here."

Alger's tone was a bit stilted, not knowing what to say for a moment, or how to face him.

Enemy?

Or a former friend?

Perhaps in the past, he would have regarded him as an enemy. But after hearing the Red Dragon's words, he could no longer distinguish truth from falsehood.

Cassius exhaled a breath of sulfurous air and merely said:

"Mezulash, where's the contract I asked you to bring?"

"I brought it, my Lord."

Mezulash took out a leather contract.

The contract was covered with dense writing and, although it had lost its power because it was completed, it still faintly emanated an aura of dark, evil magic.

Cassius ordered:

"Let him see it."

Mezulash stepped forward, unfurling the contract and shoving it into Alger's hand with quick precision.

Alger had a very bad feeling, his heart struggling, but driven by his thirst for the truth, he ended up looking at the writing, quickly murmuring each line to himself.

"Third Era, 1705 AD, December 23, the clock's hand moving one-third of the way."

"I, the Necromancer, Voice of the Night..."

"...sign this contract under the witness of the Styx River."

"...at the cost of a thousand lives."

"...and he will gain immortality, drink blood, bathe in eternal youth in the darkness."

Instantly, Alger felt dizzy, his hand holding the scroll trembled slightly.

"No."

"How can this be…"

He couldn't help but keep reading, looking at the signatory's name.

"Duke Brad Rackman"

This name, written in scarlet blood, was incredibly familiar to Alger.

He had seen this signature on administrative documents in Northwind Castle, in Eagle Guards' logistics approval, in vows of loyalty...

But he had never expected to see it on the contract that sacrificed his parents.

Brad Rackman