Chapter 463: Chapter 487: The Kingdom of the Prince of Wrath Chapter 463: Chapter 487: The Kingdom of the Prince of Wrath “Wow,” Bruto murmured softly, “I think some of us might get along with Lord Wu’an…”
“That means our trick of transforming into Succubi won’t work there,” Lancelot shrugged. “We need to think of another way to sneak in… What’s with the White Dragon guarding the Glacial Fortress like a watchdog? Doesn’t it have its own lair?”
“That is Svafnir, an ancient White Dragon, who escaped to the Iron Ice Plains from the Gate of Stroddet centuries ago. This proud and vicious beast considers Kostcheqi the only remarkable entity in that realm and thus voluntarily became the mount of the Prince of Wrath,” Tijana explained as she took a scroll bundle from her Dimensional Bag and spread it open on the table. “Here is the Glacial Fortress we saw in the illusion, and the White Dragon’s lair is actually hidden in the mountains five hundred miles south of the fortress.”
The Succubus’s finger lightly tapped the spot she had just mentioned on the map, and everyone bowed their heads to study the gray-blue leather scroll. The scroll’s material was extremely tough, and its finely wrinkled and porous surface invoked some very uncomfortable associations.
“May I ask,” Bruto started hesitantly, “what kind of skin is this map made of?”
“Frost Giants, of course. What else?” Tijana looked oddly at the Dwarf. “Otherwise, why would anyone believe it’s genuine?”
“Does that matter?” The Dwarf found the Succubus’s response somewhat unsettling. “Does this count as evidence that the cartographer has been to the Iron Ice Plains?”
“You answered your own question perfectly,” Tijana shrugged. “Here in the Abyss, skin flayed from a Frost Giant is certainly compelling evidence.”
“This is the Gate of Stroddet you just mentioned, right?” Lancelot pointed to a circular symbol on the map, labeled in Abyssal language. “Where does it lead?”
“To the ‘Land of Warriors,’ the Garden of Yser. It’s nearly as mad as the Bottomless Abyss, but due to a slight benevolent inclination, it belongs to the upper planes,” Tijana’s tone grew colder. “Kostcheqi once fathered a deformed daughter with a Valkyrie from the Garden of Yser. The daughter, born of parents from both the Bottomless Abyss and the Garden of Yser, was mercilessly sacrificed by the Prince of Wrath, thus establishing a permanent Portal that connected the two planes.”
“That’s just… sickening,” Alamir said with a face full of disgust. “Even animals don’t consume their offspring; no matter how evil they are, they ought to protect their children…”
“When you have immortality, you might view descendants differently, especially here in the Abyss. Want to know how many Succubi sell their daughters into slavery? Even if the buyer is a Bartez, as long as the price is right, they won’t hesitate in the slightest,” Tijana stared pointedly at Alamir. “I know what you’ve been finding each night in those taverns. Be careful, Elf, if a Succubus has your child without your knowledge, their fate is destined to be tragic.”
“Shuni bestowed some special powers upon Her priests, and the seeds I sow will absolutely not sprout unless it’s intended… cough, cough…” Alamir cleared his throat awkwardly, “Let’s continue our earlier discussion, a permanent portal to the higher planes, still controlled by an Abyssal Lord, that doesn’t sound too good.”
“Indeed. Through this portal, Kostcheqi can directly attack the realm of Solheim, the god of the Frost Giants, plunder His people and force those Frost Giants to change their faith. Needless to say, many Demons also wish to use this portal to go the higher planes for a killing spree, but Kostcheqi’s approach of annihilating any Demons that enter the Iron Ice Plains actually protects the entire Multiverse.”
“But now Kostcheqi is gone…” Lancelot showed a questioning look.
“Only temporarily. Those Frost Giants loyal to it still faithfully carry out the hunting orders,” Tijana shook her head, “Given the current situation of the blood battles, other Abyssal Lords are unlikely to send troops to attack the Iron Ice Plains at this time, as it would consume a lot of their strength, giving their enemies a chance.”
“Clearly, the Abyssal Lord is our biggest threat to achieving our goals; its absence makes everything possible,” Lancelot realized he had been staring at Tijana’s face too long and forced himself to look down and study the map, “How long can Zariel hold Kostcheqi? Once released, could it immediately return to its fortress?”
“While preferring melee weapons, the Abyss has bestowed Kostcheqi with the power to cast spells. If released, it could immediately use extra-dimensional teleportation to return to its fortress in the Iron Ice Plains,” Tijana said earnestly, “Zariel knows that killing an Abyssal Lord outside the Abyss is meaningless, but the Archduke of Demons cannot imprison the Prince of Wrath forever. She is currently leading an army outside of Aphnas, which increases the likelihood of Kostcheqi’s escape. If during your mission you spot any signs of its return, immediately use Teleportation Magic to leave, any hesitation could trap you there forever.”
“Understood,” Lancelot nodded, then curiously asked, “What kind of place is the Garden of Yser? Can we possibly get support from there?”
“The supplicants in the Garden of Yser were mostly the bravest soldiers in life, always eager for battle. Unlike other planes, supplicants killed in the Garden of Yser do not perish but resurrect at dawn the next day to continue their endless competition. The only issue is, they often forget that outsiders from other planes might not appreciate this type of death duel,” Tijana leaned back in her chair and lazily stretched in such a graceful fashion that it caused everyone present, except Lancelot, who kept glaring unabashedly at the Succubus Lord, to avert their gaze subconsciously, including a female Undead.
“As for that portal in the Iron Ice Plains, I’d advise you to stay well clear,” Tijana stuck her tongue out at Lancelot, enjoying the Human Knight’s fervent gaze from earlier, “Frost Giants loyal to Solheim surge like a tide from the portal, clashing violently with those loyal to the Abyssal Lord. Incidentally, Solheim is a wicked and cruel deity; do not expect any kindness from His followers.”
“Even if we can’t cooperate, maybe we can find a way to use them,” Lancelot said earnestly, pretending his earlier gaze had been entirely appropriate. He pointed to another spot marked on the map, “What is this Gorgiad Fortress? A rallying point for Kostcheqi’s armies?”