Even as a child, Drake had always thought his father was too mysterious. He often disappeared for long periods of time and returned with no one knowing his whereabouts or what he was up to.
The only person that spent time with them was their mother, who passed away—according to their father—when they were kids. Since then, the Frost Monarch hadn't taken another wife.
"Father..." Drake clenched his fist as several memories flashed through his head. "What exactly are you hiding? Could it be you have a deeper connection with the Scourge?"
The Frost Prince suddenly felt the urge to return to Frostpire and question his father, but he had to suppress the urge—their mission here wasn't complete yet.
"So what do we do now?"
Drake heard a voice behind him. Even without turning around, he could tell the voice belonged to Nyxirith, who had acted like an assistant leader all this time.
Drake didn't respond for several minutes. He didn't know the way forward either with the emergence of this new information.
Sometime later, he sighed. "We meet up with the Scavengers and the Remnant Eye. At least they seemed much more friendly compared to the Broken Claw, which we have to deal with too."
"That Garren will be a tough nut to crack, for sure," Elise said, but a fire burned in her eyes when she recalled the humiliation she had suffered at that man's hands.
He had effortlessly torn through their attacks as if they meant nothing.
"Even though he's powerful, I'm sure it will be difficult for him to face all seven heirs at once," Valkor smirked, purple flames dancing in his eyes.
"The map also showed us their location," Drake said softly. "When we deal with our current problem, we will pay them a visit."
A sharp flash of anger passed through Drake's face as he envisioned Garren running his hands across his sister's body, and the anger in his heart soared to new heights.
Later that day, Drake, along with Valkor, Celestis, and Nyxirith, headed out to the city, and Raiziel was temporarily made the leader.
Valkor led the group through a series of alleys and ruined buildings before they arrived at the hideout of the Scavengers.
"You came earlier than I expected." Ashren flashed a smile when he saw the three Dragonkin.
"I assume your leader agrees to the deal. By the way, who is the leader?" he added, sweeping his gaze across them.
"I am the leader." Drake stepped forward confidently.
"This child… an Ice Dragon, I see," Ashren nodded his head. "Not bad."
"My name is Ashren," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.
"Drake." Drake returned the shake. "Drake Frostpire."
As their hands made contact, a brief gleam of shock flashed across Ashren's face, but it was so brief that the other party didn't even notice.
Several seconds passed, and the two remained like that for some time before Ashren awkwardly retrieved his hand.
"I'll go straight to the point," he said quickly, trying to salvage the moment. "I'm sure your friends told you everything already. If you want to fulfill your goal, then your best bet is definitely us."
"About that," Drake said. "I was wondering—could it be possible for your faction to join forces with the Remnant Eye? A few of my teammates ran into them, and from the encounter, I think they aren't that bad."
"The Remnant Eye, huh?" Ashren whispered, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.
"Although the Remnant Eye claims to be a faction, in truth, they're just neutral. Their primary goal is to preserve history, and I suppose you know historians only play with books—they are not the brightest when it comes to fighting."
"So you're saying the Remnant Eye is the weakest?"
Ashren chuckled. "I wouldn't call them weak, but compared to other factions, their strength isn't the best. The only reason they even survived this long was because of Voron."
He shrugged at the end and added, "But I must say, they could be very useful. They're very smart and know more about the kingdom than anyone else. Since this is what you want, I'll hold talks with Voron about it."
"Thank you." Drake made a low bow.
"No need to thank me," Ashren said. "After all, this is not free. In return for helping you with your investigation, I want you to convince your Monarchs to fix the mess they caused. I don't really care if the Alpha dies. All I want is for our kingdom to return to its former glory."
Ashren's words echoed through the chamber.
Drake didn't respond immediately. He looked down at the cracked stone floor, deep in thought. Fixing the mess left behind by the Eight Monarchs? That was easier said than done.
Even convincing a single Monarch to admit fault would be like dragging a mountain uphill.
But he understood Ashren's position. The Ninth Realm had been abandoned—ruined—and for centuries, no one had even questioned why. It was time someone did.
"I'll do what I can," Drake finally said, standing straight. "But it won't be easy. The Eight Monarchs won't admit fault willingly. Especially not my father."
"My old man won't accept fault either," Valkor said as well.
"But if they find out you helped us, it might change their minds," Nyxirith quickly said. "What I'm worried about is how they'll fix the mess when a majority of your kind has already lost their minds."
"Right. I thought about that too." Drake nodded his head.
To this, Ashren only smiled. "It's easier than you think."
"Easy? What do you mean?"
"Well, we just have to curb the source of the infection."
"What do you mean by that?" Drake narrowed his eyes.
"The Scourge Alpha is the source of the infection, and it also has the antidote that can cure the kingdom of corruption."
"How do we get this antidote?"
"It's only the Scourge Alpha that knows about it… and maybe Voron might know something as well."
"That's still not easy, as you said."
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Ashren smirked. "We'll never know until we try."
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the corrupted kingdom…
"Leader, we have found their hideout," reported a frail-looking scout to a large, muscular man with a bare chest and dark scales running along his body.
"Good." Garren smiled cruelly. "Let's go claim my new wives."