Volume Dragon: Start by obtaining the Infinity Gems

Chapter 294: The Ghost Prince
On the watchtower of Ironjaw Fortress, the black-and-red-eye flag of the Zhentarim hung stiffly in the hot night wind, as if the desert had drained the vitality out of the fabric. The sentry was dozing off by the crossbow when he suddenly heard a low hum coming from deep in the clouds—it was not thunder, but the vibration of some ancient creature tearing through the air when it flapped its wings.

"Enemy attack! It's a dragon!" He roared and sounded the alarm, but the last syllable was drowned out by the deafening thunder.

Abronris swooped down from the clouds, the hurricanes on his wings carrying gravel and scraping countless sparks from the iron spikes on the city wall. He deliberately reduced his size, but still occupied most of the courtyard. The arc of electricity that burst out when his dragon claws landed instantly melted the bases of the three automatic crossbows, and the gears and chains turned into red molten iron flowing on the ground. The blue dragon raised its head, and its dark blue scales glowed coldly like quenched metal in the moonlight. Tiny electric snakes leaped on each edge, and the lightning wrapped between the dragon's horns cast his shadow on the outer wall of the fortress, like an angry god.

“Grumak!” The blue dragon’s roar resonated with thunder, causing the chandelier on the ceiling of the hall to fall. “Tell your rats to take their claws off their weapons, unless you want this iron coffin to become their furnace!”

When Ironjaw Lord Grumak emerged from the shadows, the teeth of his chainsaw sword were attracting fine sand due to static electricity, making a hissing sound like a venomous snake. His heavy black steel armor was engraved with runes that suppressed magic, and the anti-electric crystal prosthetic eye in his left eye glowed scarlet, like a hell gem embedded in his steel skull.

"An extremely old blue dragon..." His mechanical voice sounded like the friction of rusty gears. "According to the records of the Zhentarim, the last blue dragon that dared to challenge us was made into a battering ram."

He sneered and said, "You should be thankful that you are still of some use."

Two arcs of electricity spurted out of Abronris's nostrils, melting the gravel at his feet into glass beads: "Human, your arrogance is as fragile as your fortress."

His tail swept across the city wall, shattering it into ruins: "I smell the stench of red wizards - those cockroaches digging for scraps in the sand all day long, and what they are hiding... a tome dragon."

Grumak's artificial eye narrowed slightly, and his fingers unconsciously rubbed the handle of the chainsaw sword: "Oh? I didn't know you had a conflict with the red robe wizard? Or was it because of the scroll dragon?"

Blue Dragon's eyes turned gloomy: "He killed my daughter!"

That stupid young man was killed by the other party without even making a fuss. Abronris was shocked by the strength of the scroll dragon and had to change his approach and take it slowly.

Abronris also knew something about the Red Robe Wizards and the Zhentarim, two forces that almost controlled the eastern part of the desert. He knew that there had been a constant struggle between the two organizations.

The Zhentarim mainly relied on collecting protection fees and looting caravans to make profits in the desert. Before the arrival of the Red Robe Wizard, they made a lot of profits.

But the red-robed wizards also had their eyes on this piece of fat meat. They sent out the powerful nine-ring necromancer Basu to erect a scarlet spire in the desert. Relying on those arcane puppets, they played a cunning game and frantically suppressed the territory of the Zhentarim.

He knew that Grumak had long hated the Red Robe Wizard and would definitely agree to his request.

Grumak understood that the men were being conscripted for revenge.

However, although the Red Mage was hateful and had seized many of the Zhentarim's businesses, Grumak did not have the confidence to go to war with him. If both sides were to suffer losses, the only benefit would be for justice organizations like the Harpers. Moreover, he had a more important mission.
When he opened his mouth to refuse, a cold whisper suddenly pierced his mind - the voice was like a rusty knife scraping across bones, carrying the decaying breath of the Shadow Realm: "Promise him... let Thunder tear open the Red Robe's defenses..."

The pupils of the Iron Jaw Lord suddenly contracted, and the data stream of his mechanical prosthetic eye flickered wildly. Why did he come here suddenly?

He pressed his temple hard, his knuckles turning white from the force, but the voice continued to erode his consciousness: "Promise him." "Tomorrow night at midnight." Grumak suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse as if an invisible hand had strangled his throat, "The sandstorm will cover the thunder... but the arcane warehouse under the Red Robe Stronghold will belong to the Santarim Society, and the body of the Tome Dragon will belong to you."

Abronris's dragon pupils narrowed into slits. "Corpse? I want its soul to be annihilated by thunder, not a pile of rotten meat! Don't play tricks, human... Your iron skin can't block my breath."

The blue dragon suddenly spread its wings, and the accumulated lightning burst out from between its scales, illuminating the entire fortress palely. A breath of lightning blasted through the dome, blasting the red-robed sentry tower on the distant sand dunes into a charred skeleton. In the steaming smoke, he turned into lightning and soared into the sky, leaving only a thunderous warning:
"Tell your assassins - if anyone dares to touch my prey, I will weld their bones into the city walls!"

When the last flash of lightning disappeared into the clouds, Grumak stumbled and fell on the Iron Throne, cold sweat soaking through his shirt under his heavy armor. The secret door of the secret room slid open silently, and a black humanoid mist emerged from the shadows. The body under the gray robe seemed to be condensed from the smoke, and only the eyes burned with dark purple fire.

"You acted well." The voice of the mist body was like sandpaper rubbing against dry bones. "Even the old dragon didn't discover... the 'ally' in your mind."

The Iron Jaw Lord grabbed the obsidian wine glass on the table and smashed it at the shadow. The wine glass pierced through the shadow and shattered on the wall: "If you dare to get into my brain again, I will stuff your shadow into the Hellfire Furnace!"

The mist body chuckled and turned into a physical body. Its fingers stroked the throbbing veins on the lord's neck: "Anger... it's really sweet nourishment. But don't forget your identity. If you are of no use to me, then I don't mind turning you into a pitiful slave again."

Grumak gritted his teeth. Before he became Xirik's loyal hyena, he was once a test subject of the Red Robe Mage, a lowly slave. So he hated all spellcasters.

But he couldn't move the spellcaster in front of him.

Because the Archbishop of the Dark Sun Church personally instructed him to obey all the arrangements of the other party.

Listen to him.
"The boy with the cursed fire is in the red robe wizard's stronghold." The mist body's voice became cold.

"Capture him and never let him escape from the Anauroch Desert, or we will lose track of him and the cursed fire will consume any prophecy spells targeting him."

Grumak could no longer bear the other's touch, and swung his chainsaw sword violently, but only cut off a cloud of purple mist. Brave's voice came from all directions: "Capture the boy... His cursed fire is the prey of my lord Shar, and the desire of your lord Dark Sun... And if you fail to complete the task, you will become the favorite puppet of the goddess Shar..."

The shadow of the secret room suddenly shrank, and the Iron Jaw Lord stared at the bloody runes that appeared on the wall - it was an illusion of a boy bound by chains, with pale flames dancing in his palms. He wiped the blood foam from the corners of his mouth, and the data stream of the mechanical prosthetic eye finally stopped at a line of encrypted intelligence:

"Target code: Son of Cursed Fire. Last seen in: The Scarlet Spire, the Red Robe stronghold."

Grumak lowered his head and gritted his teeth: "Yes, the respected Prince of the Ghost - Braif Tanshul."

(End of this chapter)