Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 423 The Power of the Dragon Remains

The torrential rain has just stopped.

A gap was torn in the clouds, and pale sunlight poured down from the crack, illuminating the crumbling walls of Grayrock Fortress.

Rainwater dripped continuously from the cracks in the rocks, mixing with dark red liquid and forming thin streams in front of the city gate.

The Red Tide Legion's steam-powered war chariots roared into the city gate.

The heavy steel armor rolled over the ground, but the sound of the tracks turning was an uncomfortable, sticky, squeezing sound, as if the wheels were driving through swamps that had not yet solidified.

The streets, towers, and squares were all deathly silent.

There are no living people here anymore.

In the center of the square, the ground had completely lost its original color.

Moreover, no complete body could be found, not even a complete skeleton.

A thick layer of dark red minced meat, half a foot thick, covered the entire area. Rainwater fell on it, slowly churning and still emitting heat.

Traces of the explosion are visible everywhere.

Every wall was repainted with blood rain, the scarlet color flowing down the stone's texture, like a mural that hadn't yet dried.

Every breath of air I inhaled carried a nauseatingly sweet taste.

The inner wall of the city gate is covered with dense impact dents, and the stone surface is charred black, with traces of high-temperature burning remaining.

Louis sat in the command vehicle, observing everything through the window.

Will stood half a step behind him, his gaze also fixed on the square in the city that had been repeatedly trampled.

Even he, who had followed Louis for many years, had rarely seen such a sight.

“They’ve sealed the door shut,” Will said, his voice laced with coldness. “They brought this on themselves; they were trying to stop us from getting in, but now they’re the ones stopping them from escaping.”

Louis did not respond immediately.

When the artillery fire fell and the dragon blood was completely out of control, the outcome was already decided.

All the forces that were forcibly piled up created a chain reaction within the confined space. There was no escape route, and no room for luck.

He did not feel any pleasure from it all.

“The people inside have gone mad; they haven’t left themselves any way out,” Louis finally spoke.

Cleanup work is also underway at the same time.

The Red Tide knights advanced in several columns, simultaneously activating shoulder-mounted flamethrowers and high-pressure water guns.

The scorching flames swept across the ground, completely incinerating the still-unconsolidated flesh and blood. Then, high-pressure water jets washed over the stone surface, pushing the remaining filth into the ditch.

Inside the command vehicle, Louis remained seated, watching through the glass as the tanks and soldiers steadily advanced through the city.

This is not a scene to celebrate.

This is the hell created by the Raymond family, and the end he himself detonated.

…………

The steam-powered war chariots were parked in the castle courtyard, the residual heat of their engines still lingering. Blood plasma beneath the tracks was being squeezed and slowly flowed back into the low-lying areas.

Louis opened the car door and got out.

Only a few people followed behind him.

Wel walked on the left, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.

Sakho and his other guards spaced themselves out, forming a basic defensive formation.

As the group stepped onto the ground, their boots sank into the still-visible, sticky substance, producing a soft but distinct sound.

The pungent smell still lingered in the air, a mixture of blood and burnt odor that made my throat instinctively tighten.

Louis did not stop, but walked straight into the shadow of the main castle building.

The entrance to the underground is hidden behind a collapsed archway.

The stone steps lead downwards, and with each step, the surrounding temperature drops.

The heat and damp air from the ground were left behind, replaced by a bone-chilling cold.

The torches that remained on the wall had long since gone out, leaving only a few alchemical lamps flickering dimly and unsteadily.

The further down you go, the more obvious that invisible sense of oppression becomes.

It doesn't come from sight, but from deep within the body.

My heartbeat slowed down unconsciously, and the flow of fighting spirit became sluggish, as if the entire passage itself was rejecting the existence of living beings.

Will's brows furrowed. He could sense that some extraordinary power had long existed here, and the traces it left behind had not completely disappeared even now.

He subconsciously slowed his pace and said in a low voice, "This smell...it's not just blood."

Sakho walked slightly behind, his gaze sweeping over the unnatural marks on the walls and floor, his voice lowered even further: "It's something made of alchemy mixed with blood."

He paused, then added, "If the monsters in the city came from here, then it makes sense."

As the passage continued downwards, the feeling of oppression intensified.

Louis did not respond, but continued downwards.

At the end of the stone steps was a heavy iron door that had been violently torn apart. The hinges were twisted and the edges were covered with outward cracks, as if it had been forcibly broken open from the inside.

Sakho glanced at the door, his breath visibly catching in his throat: "To be able to tear open a door like this from the inside... that requires at least the power of a superhuman knight."

Louis stopped, glanced inside, and then stepped inside.

The underground space was more spacious than I had imagined.

The dome soars high, with its supporting structure exposed and thick metal beams running through it.

The alchemy equipment, which should have been neatly arranged, was lying in disarray, broken on the ground, with shattered glass containers and dried reagent residues leaving marks of varying depths on the ground.

The air was filled with a musty, cold smell, like blood that had long since congealed.

In the very center is a dried-up pool of blood.

The pool walls were covered with scratches and impact marks, and the bottom was covered with a thick layer of dark residue, which had long since lost its fluidity.

Beside the pool of blood, several torn researcher robes lay scattered.

The remaining runes on the fabric were blurred and indistinct, with edges showing signs of being repeatedly torn by sharp claws.

Sako stopped at the edge of the blood pool, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the marks on the pool wall and the ground, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably.

His gaze moved beyond the pool of blood and landed in the deeper shadows, and his breath hitched noticeably the next moment.

Behind the pool of blood, a huge skeleton lay on the ground.

Even from a distance, the sheer size of the space made people instinctively stop in their tracks.

“This…” Sakho started to speak subconsciously, but couldn’t finish his sentence.

Wel followed his gaze, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

"What a joke..." He lowered his voice considerably, as if afraid of startling something, "This is... a dragon?"

There was no response from the underground space, only the reclining remains.

Those are the remains of an ancient dragon.

The skeleton is enormous and ancient, its surface covered with traces of deliberate cutting, drilling, and embedded devices.

The spine was fixed in segments, and the chest cavity was forcibly opened to connect to some complex and cruel alchemical structure.

Even though it has lost its life, the remains still exude an unsettling presence.

“Such a thing really exists…” Will said in a low voice.

“They actually dared to…” Sakho stopped midway through his sentence, realizing that any words used to describe the Raymond family would be superfluous at this moment.

Louis stood there, looking at the remains, without showing any emotional fluctuation.

This wasn't the first time he had learned about it.

Several records from the [Daily Intelligence] naturally surfaced in my mind.

Regarding the Raymond family's long-standing experiments with dragon blood.

On the purification of power regardless of cost. On those failed samples that were repeatedly sacrificed.

He had already repeatedly confirmed this information in writing and on paper.

It now only has a physical form.

That is, the source.

This was also Kyle's last trump card.

Louis's gaze moved slowly between the remains and the dried-up pool of blood, his expression calm to the point of indifference.

There is no glory here.

There is only one old road that has reached its end.

From this moment on, the Raymond family's name will no longer be mentioned as aristocratic.

It will only be written into the comments as a failed experiment.

He took a few steps forward, trying to get a better look.

Just as Louis approached the ancient dragon's remains, a familiar yet completely different chill pierced his consciousness without warning.

It's not a visual oppression, but a direct pressure on the mental level.

Louis stopped in his tracks.

"...Here we go again." The thought flashed through his mind.

He was all too familiar with this feeling.

Louis had felt the same warnings from the crimson mist beside Titus's corpse and the purple mist over the remains of the Mother Nest.

It was a crisis warning that transcended the physical body, originating from a deeper level of existence.

However, it is fundamentally different from the previous two intrusions.

From the gaps in the ancient dragon's pale, enormous bones, a wisp of almost transparent golden mist slowly seeped out.

It is not flamboyant, and it doesn't even have any obvious aggression.

It simply diffused there still, looking down at itself.

A condescending gaze, as if a god lowers his eyes to examine the dust beneath his feet, trying to make his soul instinctively bow down, kneel, and acknowledge its own insignificance.

The air in the underground space solidified, a silent yet undeniable command.

Louis's vision darkened slightly, and a violent tremor came from the depths of his consciousness.

The Primal Meditation Technique operates at full speed in an instant, rapidly closing the boundaries of consciousness and forcibly blocking the invading will.

However, the golden presence did not disappear.

It remained suspended there, as if it were a matter of course, waiting to submit.

Just then, the Primal Heart responded.

In the center of his mind, platinum-gold starlight suddenly burst forth.

Like the core of a slowly rotating star, it is stable and calm, yet possesses absolute dominion.

A galaxy-like radiance spread out, allowing Louis's consciousness to stabilize once again.

Immediately afterwards, two other tamed forces were awakened at the same time.

Crimson mist surged at the edge of the platinum radiance, transforming into raging blood vines, the crimson tendrils emitting a low, angry roar.

Purple shadows converged in the light, coalescing into countless insect shadows that emitted unsettling hissing sounds, as if they wanted to devour everything.

Under the rule of the Primal Heart, they no longer clashed with each other, but instead, like tamed hunting dogs, locked onto a new target.

Crimson and purple burst forth together, tearing at the golden aura that was trying to take over.

Platinum Starlight acts like an invisible shackle, forcibly binding the three forces onto the same track.

Louis's consciousness suddenly sank, and fragments of memories flooded back into his mind.

Torches flickered in the pitch-black mine.

A ragged old miner swung his pickaxe, and with a "clang," it struck something hard.

He brushed away the soil, revealing a section of pale dragon bone.

Just that one glance.

The old miner's pupils went out of focus for a moment.

There was no screaming, no struggling.

He seemed to be overwhelmed by some irresistible pressure, frozen in place, then slowly knelt down, his heart stopping beating in a very short time.

The scene before my eyes shattered and then pieced back together.

An ancient tomb that has long been buried by time.

The dome collapsed, the stone walls were mottled, and ancient runes were faintly visible in the dust. The air was filled with the deathly silence of decaying time.

The remains of the ancient dragon lay quietly in the center of the tomb, undismembered, its bones intact and majestic, as if it were merely in slumber.

There was only one figure in the tomb.

It was a person wearing a mage's robe.

The hood hung low, obscuring the face, and the patterns on the robe were ancient and unfamiliar, unlike any known alchemical system.

He walked alone to the remains, without hesitation or reverence.

The light of the spell shone forth, precise and calm.

The sternum was separated in a near-perfect manner.

The enormous heart, which had long since stopped beating but still radiated a dazzling golden light, was completely removed.

It was sealed in a black gold box engraved with ancient seals.

Before the tomb chamber was completely plunged into darkness, a low and indistinct whisper echoed in the depths of time.

"The heart returns to its master, and the bones and blood return to dust."

The final scene depicts an even more ancient image.

The dark, damp underground altar was surrounded by a circle of pale candles.

A young man knelt before the altar, his hands raised high, holding a neatly severed human hand, his lips moving silently as he recited some kind of oath.

The illusion shattered abruptly, and Louis opened his eyes with a start.

The faint golden mist had been completely drawn into his body and suppressed by the Primal Heart in a corner of his sea of ​​consciousness, becoming the third force after crimson and purple.

But Louis clearly sensed that this trace of power was incomplete, yet still powerful enough.

A fleeting, indifferent golden glint flashed in the depths of Louis's pupils.

He could clearly sense that a new passive pressure was taking shape. It was a new ability brought about by the golden mist. As long as one was looked directly at, a low-level will would instinctively collapse.

"...Sir?" Will's voice was noticeably lowered. "What's wrong?"

Louis raised his hand to his temple, then shook his head.

Unlike the previous three times, this time it was a brief moment of disorientation, and there was no fainting.

This gave him a sense of certainty.

This is incomplete power; the true main power is the heart that was removed.

"It's nothing." His tone returned to its usual calm.

Louis looked again at the skeleton, which had completely lost its luster and turned into mere bones, his gaze calm.

The Raymond family thought they had struck gold, but they had only found leftovers.

Although there is no evidence yet, Louis instinctively felt that it might be related to the missing emperor.

But this left Louis with no way to proceed and could only hope that the daily intelligence system would be more effective.

Louis withdrew his gaze: "Seal this place off for now. Notify Merian and have his alchemy team come over as soon as possible."

(End of this chapter)