Rewind time a little.
In the Royal Capital, an unknown location that even detectors could not find.
"...That is the situation, Lord 'the dark trinity'." Otto spoke into the communicator with a cautious tone. "It seems headquarters has also noticed the current chaos in the Royal Capital. With 'Eight Fingers' wiped out, the underworld is leaderless. They have decided to... expand the scale of the original 'Tidal Festival' operation."
"Additionally," Otto took a deep breath, "headquarters hopes you can return to the team as soon as possible to take charge of the overall situation."
The other side was silent for a moment before replying in a completely flat voice: "I have another mission; it is inconvenient to regroup for now. Proceed as planned."
"Yes! Yes! I understand!"
The communication was decisively cut off.
Otto let out a long breath, feeling the fabric on his back soaked through and clinging tightly to his skin.
As a mole planted in the Cult by the Lordaeron Empire, his life lately could be described as walking on thin ice.
Ever since he latched onto the coattails of this mysterious Lord "the dark trinity", his status in the Cult had risen steadily, even allowing him access to core intelligence he wouldn't have dared dream of before.
But the more contact he had, the more alarmed he became.
If a single top-tier assassin could turn the vast Royal Capital upside down, then just how terrifying was the energy of the entire Plasma Cult?
Damn it, when will this undercover life ever end?
Otto didn't know that the "Lord" he was so wary of was currently analyzing his plans with great interest.
"Interesting."
Caesar muttered to himself in a low voice.
The other party had taken the bait.
He had been swindling people under the alias of "the dark trinity" for so long, yet the real person had never come looking for him. This could only mean one thing.
The real "the dark trinity" was already dead.
Furthermore, the higher-ups of the Plasma Cult were completely unaware of this.
Coupled with the various suspicious points regarding the Saintess Candidate "Colette", especially that covert cloak which shouldn't have belonged to her, a bold guess formed in Caesar's mind.
It was quite possible that the long-dead Saintess "Colette" was the real "the dark trinity".
This was going to be fun.
Along the way, by boosting the popularity of "Saintess Colette" and conveniently wiping out underground organizations in the cities along the route, Caesar had successfully disguised himself as a Cult ace with a brilliant record, earning the trust of headquarters.
This organization was even larger and more loosely organized than he had imagined.
The bishops of various regions acted independently. Headquarters seemed only responsible for issuing missions and evaluating results, like a wide-reaching pyramid scheme model.
Now, this net was finally closing in on the Royal Capital. And Caesar prepared to be the spider lurking in the mesh as the net was pulled in.
For a massive secret organization to take root in the Royal Capital, it needed three things: a secure base, hidden logistics, and sufficient manpower.
According to the intelligence provided by Otto, the Plasma Cult's base in the Royal Capital was chosen to be an old warehouse in the dock district rented by the "Spice Chamber of Commerce".
On the surface, very few goods moved in and out of that place, but the underground held another world, connected to a secret tunnel network left over from the war—a perfect, lightless nest.
"Let's go, Viola."
Caesar stood up, his hideous Earth Dragon body casting a massive shadow in the gloom.
"It's time to pull in the net."
With the help of Viola's phantom force ability, Caesar's figure merged silently into the shadows, passing through layers of guards and infiltrating the warehouse's underground space.
His plan was simple: wipe out this group of attracted cultists in one go, then forge a scene of infighting between other factions.
The Plasma Cult had plotted for the Royal Capital for so long, even going as far as planting a mole in the Church of Light whose identity they themselves weren't even clear on; they would never settle for failure.
As long as he killed this vanguard force, they would inevitably send stronger forces.
When that happened, the conflict would snowball, getting bigger and bigger.
And he would reap the benefits... Deep within the secret underground passage, the space suddenly opened up.
This place had been crudely transformed into a simple meeting hall. Dozens of cultists in black robes were gathered here, chanting indistinguishable syllables in low voices. The air vibrated slightly due to magical resonance, and the atmosphere was fanatical and oppressive, like a pot of thick oil about to boil.
Caesar's figure emerged from the shadows at the entrance, his golden vertical pupils quickly scanning the scene without the slightest hesitation.
"Sandstorm!"
"Sand Tomb!"
Violent dust instantly swept through the entire underground space, and the ground turned into a quicksand trap that swallowed everything.
Light and shadow were crudely shredded; as far as the eye could see, there was only yellow dusk and roaring. Screams and exclamations rang out in unison, vision was completely obscured, and the cultists instantly fell into Confusion.
Caesar moved through the Sandstorm like a ghost; the grit was his natural camouflage, and the quicksand was his loyal servant.
The Earth Dragon swung a claw, easily tearing the throat of the first cultist who lunged at him—
However, the expected scene of blood spraying did not occur.
"Something's wrong," Viola's voice was solemn. "This guy... has no Soul."
Caesar paused, a chill climbing up his spine. His gaze was like lightning, piercing through the dust to scan those panicked figures.
He killed several more cultists in succession, and the results were exactly the same. The sensation under his claws was eerie—not like flesh and blood, but more like decayed leather wrapped around dry bones. These guys were all soulless husks!
"Puppets... sacrifices... or vessels?" Caesar's mind raced, but his movements became even more cautious, as if navigating a minefield. He immediately withdrew his presence, using his Sand Veil trait to completely merge with the rhythm of the Sandstorm, heightening his senses to the limit, not letting a single abnormality slip by.
Soon, he found his target.
In the deepest part of the meeting hall, a Cult high-ranking official, also wearing a black robe but with an aura significantly stronger and more solid than the others, was trying to stabilize the situation.
It was him!
Like a long-dormant venomous snake, Caesar's muscles tensed, he gathered strength, and then—exploded! He crossed the distance in an instant, his sharp Dragon Claw tearing through the air, aiming straight for the opponent's heart!
The official only had time to let out a cry of alarm before being killed by Caesar in one strike.
But at the moment he died, a sudden change occurred! The fallen corpse twitched violently, then swelled up as if being inflated! Large patches of black shadows, thick as asphalt and reeking of sulfur, poured frantically out of his orifices and pores, quickly condensing and shaping in the air into a heart-pounding, indescribable, terrifying form!
[Legendary Demon · Shadow of Beelzebub (LV.52)!]
The crimson words popping up on the System panel made Caesar's pupils shrink suddenly.
It was actually... a Legend?
He had clearly checked before; the strongest in this base was no more than Gold Rank, yet a Legend suddenly appeared?
Could all the Plasma cultists in this base be Puppets controlled by this demon?
Caesar suddenly remembered back in Osterburg when Bishop Andorn had asked him to assist as the "Sand Demon".
Could it be that the Plasma Cult had long since hooked up with demons?
The demon's form was indescribable, as if constructed from decay and authority. On its head grew thick, twisted, pitch-black goat horns like a crown, its body was covered in a dark, shell-like exoskeleton, and a pair of massive, tattered insect wings on its back flapped slowly.
"Damn... a shark? No, this is—"
"A Dragon?!"
The sound it made was like countless Souls wailing. Black smoke, thick as asphalt, diffused from its body, lunging straight at Caesar.
"Soul attack!" Viola immediately warned, her soul fire flickering, showing instinctive disgust and alertness. "Its energy is too filthy and complex, filled with chaotic obsessions. I can't absorb it directly!"
Almost at the same time, the System notification rang out like a death knell.
[Ding! Target detected: Legendary Demon · Shadow of Beelzebub (LV.52) has released its entry trait (Negative Energy · Dark Aura)!]
[Negative Energy · Dark Aura: Releases an aura upon entering the field. Increases the power of all Dark-type Moves by 30% and deals an additional 20% Ghost-type damage.]
An invisible darkness exploded outward with the demon at the center! It wasn't just the disappearance of light, but the stripping away of color, sound, and even life! Caesar's Dragon body felt as if it had suddenly been sunk into the deep sea, and even his thoughts seemed to freeze. The Sandstorm let out an overburdened wail as it was suppressed and eroded.
This was the power of a Legendary Domain, even if it was only a prototype!
"Can't let it set up its field!" Caesar realized instantly. "An entry trait? So we're comparing traits, are we?"
The Earth Dragon let out a low growl, no longer suppressing the rebellious will within his body—a will originating from his Bloodline and tempered through countless life-and-death struggles!
[Dragons Might: Traitor I]! Activate!
Boom—!
A completely different "Domain" erupted violently! It was a shredding! A roar! It was a towering rebellious will from the deepest part of his Bloodline against all "superiors" and "oppression", mixed with the Earth Dragon's overbearing Dragon Might that refused to yield. It forcibly tore a rift in the demon's Dark Aura!
"Kneel!"
Caesar let out a tyrannical dragon roar, the roar infused with the full essence of [Dragon Might: Rebel]—this was a command; this was a declaration!
[Dragons Might: Traitor I] triggered!
10% Flinch check—Success!
The Shadow of Beelzebub's Soul-draining Spell, which was halfway through condensing, was forcibly interrupted by this roar.
In its pupils, which eternally burned with ghostly fire, a flash of bewilderment appeared for the first time, only to be replaced by endless rage.
"A mere reptile... dares to shake my will?!" The demon's roar caused dust to fall from the entire underground space, and the Dark Aura churned violently.
Caesar's heart tightened.
He had seen the projection of the Legendary powerhouse Ilena; that kind of pressure at the level of Law had almost suffocated him.
But the demon before him, although its Rank was as high as LV.52, didn't give off that feeling of crushing everything. For some reason, Caesar suddenly thought of Bishop Andorn.
Could this be another fraud?