Chapter 661: Dark Star and Dawn, Empire Storm

Halden, the City in the Clouds.

This steel colossus, suspended above the clouds, was perpetually surrounded by layers of mist year-round.

Sunlight poured through the gaps in the cloud cover, cascading down onto the runic arrays at the city's edges, stirring up layer upon layer of shimmering halos.

Viewed from afar, the entire city resembled a giant crystal floating in the sky.

Dazzling and radiant, bearing an air of majestic grace.

And deep within the belly of the City in the Clouds lay a dimensional space sealed off by layers of inscribed barriers, far removed from the clamor, so quiet it felt cut off from the world.

Fafnir stood on the high platform.

Looking outward, the dome stretched so high its end was almost impossible to see.

The walls and floor were densely covered with intricate runic circuits—lines thick and precise, interwoven with one another, heavy and solemn. The air was filled with a mixture of metal and energy, dry and slightly cool.

He was staring solemnly ahead.

In the center of his vision stood a machine.

A creation as grand and towering as a mountain range.

Its main structure presented a texture somewhere between steel and bone, with layers of platinum-white armor stacked one upon another. The structural hierarchy was distinct, the joints seamlessly fitted, leaving almost no visible gaps.

It stood at the very heart of the dimensional space.

Its head drooped slightly, and two dark observation slots were embedded in its faceplate, devoid of any light within.

Quiet, massive, silent.

It was like a slumbering beast, curling its body within the shadows, waiting for a single command to unfurl and blot out the entire sky.

Halden's ultimate weapon.

The National Guardian Mecha, Platinum Star.

This was the ultimate weapon forged by the Halden Empire at the cost of countless efforts, built generation after generation—the pinnacle of the empire's industrial and alchemical achievements.

Countless small alchemical machines flitted around it.

They were only the size of a fist, covered in thin silver-gray shells, with various precision tools hanging from their bellies, darting back and forth across the Platinum Star's armor.

Fafnir gazed at the magnificent creation before him, his eyes narrowing bit by bit.

On the surface of the Platinum Star's armor, some unnatural patterns were flickering.

A faint purple hue.

Like bruises, or perhaps the roots of some parasitic vine.

They radiated outward from the central engine as the midline, spreading twisted veins both inside and outside the colossal structure, embedding themselves deeply into the Platinum Star's architecture, adding a touch of eerie and dangerous aura to what was originally a purely majestic war machine.

But compared to a hundred years ago, the color of these patterns had faded considerably.

Back then, these patterns were still deep purple, nearly black, like bulging blood vessels on the surface of the skin, covering every inch of the armor in a way that was utterly alarming.

Now, much of that color had receded, leaving only faint light-purple stripes attached to the surface.

These colors signified Abyssal corrosion.

The Platinum Star's operation required a vast amount of energy.

In the early days, Halden's Abyssal Development Plan reaped generous rewards. The empire, drawing energy from the Abyss, constructed more Sky Cities, and its national power once reached its zenith.

The Platinum Star's engine also underwent several iterative upgrades, with its power output steadily climbing.

However, this also brought a fatal hidden danger.

When the Abyss's peril first began to show signs, Fafnir immediately realized that the Platinum Star might also be in trouble.

Sure enough, this colossal structure was likewise corroded.

The energy drawn from the Abyss was not pure and harmless; it carried an invisible corrosive force that gradually seeped into the engine's structure, then spread from the engine to the entire colossus.

This was the terror of the Abyss.

Imperceptibly, it could erode everything, even lifeless constructs. Metal, runes, energy circuits—all things that seemed solid before the Abyss were like sandcastles that couldn't withstand the washing away.

Halden had gravely underestimated the cost of the Abyss.

Fortunately, the empire's response was swift enough.

They immediately isolated the Platinum Star, meticulously repairing it day and night, gradually removing the Abyssal corrosion.

Fafnir turned to his right and spoke in a low voice.

"The colors representing the Abyss have faded quite a bit."

To his right stood a person.

His hair was very light in color, somewhere between silver-white and pale gold. His face was young and calm, but his eyes held a serene composure that only those who had lived through long, long years could accumulate—undeniable and commanding.

Noxian.

Halden's Dawn, the empire's immortal, and also Fafnir's ancestor, one of the sources of the bloodline.

Noxian was likewise gazing at the Platinum Star.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the light-purple patterns on the armor's surface, as if measuring their depth and density.

"The Platinum Star's condition seems to be gradually improving."

He said.

Fafnir nodded, his gaze still fixed on the Platinum Star. "Yes."

"The restoration work is progressing more smoothly than expected."

"The core engine has been successfully replaced, and the corroded areas on the periphery are being stripped away layer by layer. According to the latest detection data, the degree of corrosion has receded significantly compared to the last check."

He paused, as if relieved. "At this rate, it might not be long before it can be completely removed."

Once this alchemical colossus was fully restored, the situation facing the empire would be drastically different.

It was both the sturdiest shield and the sharpest spear, enough to make any enemy pay the price they deserved.

Noxian's gaze was profound, his voice calm.

"From the day the Platinum Star was corroded by the Abyss, the empire began a long retreat. We paid countless painful costs on the Abyss front, lost too many excellent warriors, and lost too many precious resources."

He tilted his head slightly, shifting his gaze from the Platinum Star to Fafnir.

"Our glory has been defiled."

"When the Platinum Star is restored, that will be the time for the empire to counterattack the Abyss and thoroughly cleanse this persistent ailment."

Hearing these words, Fafnir frowned.

His lips pressed together tightly. He remained silent for a few breaths before speaking hesitantly.

"Is a counterattack on the Abyss... a bit too risky?"

"Ancestor, our previous underestimation of the Abyss has already cost the empire too much."

He lowered his eyelids, his voice sinking. "Besides, the empire still has internal and external troubles that haven't been resolved. Would launching a counterattack rashly at such a time be too hasty?"

Noxian listened quietly, without interrupting.

Fafnir's expression gradually grew serious, and his voice dropped even lower. "I've always suspected that the Abyss managed to corrode the empire so deeply, so imperceptibly, because there's a traitor among us."

The immortal's expression remained unruffled. "Who do you think it is?"

Fafnir said in a low voice, "Ancestor, my guess is what I told you before."

"I suspect... it's the Dark Star."

He paused briefly, then continued. "You've been in secluded cultivation for years, rarely concerning yourself with the empire's daily governance and decisions. But as an immortal, he's been quite active. The Abyssal Development Plan's implementation owes something to him as well."

"Many key decisions have his shadow behind them."

Noxian asked, "If it's him, why would he do this?"

Fafnir's face was stern as he weighed his words. "It's simple: he's not of our main royal bloodline."

"He achieved immortality thanks to the empire's cultivation, yet he has repeatedly proposed reforms, wanting to abolish the system we've maintained for countless generations, wanting to weaken the influence of the royal bloodline in the empire's decision-making."

"Of course, he might genuinely want what's best for Halden, wanting to try a different path."

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting Noxian's directly. "But... I think it's more out of personal ambition. He wants to dismantle our foundations from within, weaken the royal family's power, and then take our place himself."

"That's the path that best serves his interests."

Noxian showed no change in expression. "And what do you see as the external threat?"

Fafnir answered without hesitation. "The Sacred Aola Empire entrenched on the surface of Atlan—or, more accurately, their imperial master, that Scarlet Emperor Cangxing."

"This empire is built almost entirely upon their emperor."

"Without the Red Emperor, there would be no Sacred Aola."

As he said this, a complex feeling couldn't help but stir within him.

In terms of imperial structure and accumulated heritage, Sacred Aola was actually quite shallow, relying entirely on the Red Emperor's strength.

In many people's eyes, this was a fatal flaw, a weakness.

If anything happened to the head of state, the entire empire would collapse without even a chance to catch its breath.

But Fafnir knew well that this could also be called an advantage.

Take Halden, for example.

On the surface, the empire was glorious and splendid. Its subjects took pride in Halden, and the streets were always flowing with an air of pride.

But in reality, the empire was rife with surging undercurrents.

The major factions jostled and schemed against one another. Every meeting in the palace was an invisible clash, with each attendee calculating their own interests.

People vied for power and profit, guarding against one another, and even the immortals were not entirely of one mind.

Some were plotting for higher status, some for deeper power, some outwardly supported the royal family while secretly amassing chips for their own schemes.

Even in the midst of the Abyss crisis, Fafnir had to constantly consider the possibility of betrayal and scheming from his own people.

This internal friction wore him down, body and soul, and severely hampered the empire's decision-making.

"Let's set these questions aside for now."

Noxian raised his hand slightly, steering the conversation back. "What do you think we should do next?"

Fafnir mustered his spirits, a look of contemplation in his eyes.

"With the Platinum Star, the empire can first pull back and cut its losses from this crisis."

"We should stabilize our position, seal the rift, consolidate our defenses, and keep the losses within an acceptable range."

"Once we've accumulated enough strength and understood the Abyss's true nature, we can consider a counterattack later."

"That's the safest and most secure approach."

"The empire won't suffer any more losses, and we'll have room to catch our breath and adjust."

A faint smile slowly crept onto the immortal's lips.

He tilted his head, his gaze falling on Fafnir's face, making no effort to hide his appreciation. "Fafnir, among all the kings of Halden throughout the ages, you are the one I admire most."

Fafnir was momentarily stunned.

"You can give everything for the empire's interests, including your pride, your comfort, even your reputation. That's rare on Halden's throne. Many monarchs value their dignity and authority above all else, but you are different."

"And what's even more valuable is that you possess caution."

Noxian gazed steadily at Fafnir, his eyes deep. "This is not cowardice. Especially in someone who sits on the throne, it's an extremely rare quality."

"A rash monarch will lead the empire to destruction, but a cautious one can see it survive the storm."

Fafnir lowered his head. "Ancestor, you flatter me. I'm just—"

Noxian gently raised a hand, cutting off his self-deprecation.

Then, his tone shifted.

"But Fafnir, have you ever thought about how imperial history will judge you a thousand years from now?"

Fafnir looked up, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Noxian clasped his hands behind his back and unhurriedly took half a step on the high platform.

"During the time you've ruled the empire as its sovereign, the empire suffered a great defeat on the Abyss battlefield, incurred immeasurable resource losses, and lost countless warriors."

"This is the current reality."

"No matter how you dress it up, these facts will be carved into the empire's records as unchangeable chapters. If, at this juncture, you choose to pull back and cut your losses..."

He paused, turning around to gaze at Fafnir's face.

"How will Halden's history books record this period?"

"Halden's subjects, generation after generation, who revere victory and value honor above life—they won't think the empire failed."

"They'll say that you, their monarch, were incompetent, cowardly, and defiled the empire's glory."

"They'll blame all the failures on you alone."

Fafnir fell silent.

Of course, he knew this.

He knew that beyond the palace walls, in the streets and alleys, people were already talking about their emperor with a certain look. It didn't take a hundred years—even now, his reputation among his subjects was steadily declining.

The key was, he was no longer young.

Compared to decades ago, there were more wrinkles on his face.

His body was gradually bending, requiring some effort to straighten his back. The years had piled layer after layer of weight on his shoulders.

If he didn't change something...

He might never change his subjects' perception of him until his death.

And when future generations of the empire spoke of him, they would only remember a monarch who retreated before the Abyss.

Noxian looked directly at the current King of Halden. "Fafnir, I know what you've given for the empire."

"You deserve a better outcome."

"If, during your reign, the empire first fell from the clouds to the depths, and then climbed from the depths to even higher clouds..."

"Then, how will people judge you?"

"They will praise your resilience and wisdom. They will rank you alongside the greatest kings in Halden's history. They will write in the history books that the empire's darkest era was ended by its most brilliant monarch."

"When future children study imperial history in the classroom, they will remember your name."

"You will be seen as the symbol of the Halden spirit."

"At that point, all your failures will be redefined."

Noxian turned to face Fafnir, raised a hand, and gently patted his shoulder.

"The empire has survived and developed until now thanks to its mature order and division of labor."

"I am responsible for guarding the empire's territory with sword and armor, fighting for her glory until my light burns out. The heavy burden of holding the helm of this great ship and contemplating its future fate has always been your duty."

He withdrew his hand, took a step back, and his gaze was as calm as still water.

"Fafnir, I have laid out the ends of these two paths before you."

"You are the King of Halden. Which path to choose will ultimately be decided by your heart and your crown."

With these words, the immortal's figure began to fade, dissolving into the air of the high platform.

The many alchemical machines continued to flit around the Platinum Star, emitting faint mechanical sounds. In the vast, empty hall, besides those lifeless metal creations, only Fafnir remained.

He lifted his head, gazing up at the towering, majestic Platinum Star.

Its massive head drooped slightly, its metal faceplate turned in his direction, as if it were looking at him too.

Fafnir stood still, the furrows on his brow growing deeper.

The Platinum Star was not anyone's private property.

It had a strict activation protocol that even an immortal could not drive alone.

Only with the collective authorization of the Imperial Central Command and the personal will of the emperor could its engine be reignited.

His will was the final switch for this colossus to awaken.

A counterattack on the Abyss?

That meant staking the empire's last card on the gambling table, betting the Platinum Star, the empire's accumulated reserves over many years, and Halden's future.

If they won...

Defeating the Lord of the Flame Prison and gaining an entire Abyssal plane would bring the empire an unprecedented leap to unparalleled glory. His name would be remembered and praised, earning unprecedented honor.

If they failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Not only might the Platinum Star be damaged, but the entire empire could be dragged into an abyss of eternal damnation.

Pull back and cut losses?

That meant admitting the empire's failure, writing off the costs already paid as sunk costs, leaving the names of the fallen behind, and turning toward a relatively safe path.

But Halden's subjects could not accept failure.

In their bones, victory was the only answer; retreat and compromise were forever shameful.

At that point, on history's judgment seat, he, the King of Halden, would be seen as the empire's disgrace.

A difficult choice.

Fafnir stood still, long unable to make up his mind.

On the Rhen Plateau, night had fallen.

The mountains lay like the spines of slumbering beasts, their majestic and gentle outlines sketched against the horizon. A river of stars poured from one end of the sky to the other, countless points of light burning silently on the deep blue velvet.

Deep in the plateau, a great lake lay in repose.

The lake's surface was as smooth as a mirror, perfectly reflecting the vast sea of stars overhead.

Garoth had just returned from his tempering in the white dwarf in the deep void. He sank his entire body into the lake water, leaving only half his head exposed, his nostrils and eyelids just floating on the surface.

He let out a soft breath.

Gurgle, gurgle...

Bubbles churned from his nostrils, rising to the surface in strings, bursting with a faint sound as they met the air.

The red iron dragon squinted his eyes in contentment.

"I wish this peace could last forever."

He thought, then blew out another breath. Bubbles surged from beneath his draconic maw, rising along the sides of his nose, merging into the lake's barely perceptible ripples.

Garoth knew this peace wouldn't last forever.

But precisely because he knew, he treasured it all the more.

Such rest was already a luxury for him.

And so, time slowly passed.

The night wind on the plateau gently brushed across the lake's surface, stirring fine, dense ripples. Everything was as serene as a painting.

But before long, the sky suddenly froze.

Garoth's brow scales furrowed.

He slowly lifted his head, his gaze shifting from lazy softness to a blade-sharp edge, sweeping across the surrounding scenery.

Wherever his eyes landed, all the scenery was becoming blurry.

The reeds on the far shore, the distant ridgeline, even the stars overhead—all of it twisted, spread, and lost their boundaries like ink droplets dissolving in water, taking on an unreal blurriness.

As if, some shadow had shrouded everything.

Garoth's gaze instantly shifted from lazy to razor-sharp, piercing through the distorted air and landing on the lake's surface to his right.

At some point, a human figure had appeared there.

Humanoid in shape and form, but indistinct.

A thick layer of shadow clung to his body, obscuring his face, clothing, and every identifiable feature without leaving a single trace.

As if he were merely a cut-out silhouette, or a phantom assembled from pure shadow.

He stood on the water's surface, as if on solid ground, his voice drifting over faintly.

"I've long heard of the Master of Sacred Aola's reputation."

"Tonight, I came specially to pay a visit, hoping to have a word with Your Majesty."

The sound of water.

The red iron dragon emerged from the lake, straightening his back. Lake water cascaded down from his broad chest, taut waist, and arched spine, crashing back into the lake like a waterfall, stirring up rings of massive waves that spread outward.

"I don't talk with people who hide their faces."

The great dragon looked down at the figure and said, "A man who shrouds his very features in shadow—who can believe he comes with sincerity?"

The figure in the shadows paused slightly.

Then, the shadow enveloping him began to recede and fade.

"It was my oversight."

"I've worn this guise for so long that I forgot proper etiquette."

As his voice fell, the shadows dispersed completely.

What was revealed was a very ordinary face.

Medium features, medium contours, medium skin tone. Neither ugly nor handsome. Not a single feature was memorable enough to leave an impression.

If placed in a crowd, he would disappear into it in an instant.

No one would give him a second glance.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ryan Steinbeck."

He gave a slight bow. "But that name is rarely used anymore. Most people call me... the Dark Star."

The red iron dragon was not surprised.

When this man appeared, he already knew who it was.

After all, there were only a handful of such people.

Immortals, beings above the mundane. There were only a few in the entire world whose names were known. Even if he hadn't met them, he had gathered some information in advance.

"Oh, so it's Halden's Dark Star who's come."

The great dragon said, taking a step forward.

The lake water churned.

His massive form approached, casting a shadow that completely engulfed the human. Looking up, the human could no longer see the sky, only a pair of vertical pupils faintly glowing in the night.

The immortal did not retreat.

He tilted his head slightly, meeting the gaze that looked down upon him. "Dark Star... you may call me that."

The red iron dragon lowered his eyes to the human before him and said bluntly, "I've said it before: one continent cannot have two suns. Sacred Aola and Halden are not friendly neighbors. As an immortal of Halden, sneaking into my territory late at night can't be just to give me a greeting, can it?"

The Dark Star stood on the water.

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze first swept past the red iron dragon's back and shoulders, looking at the twisted night sky, as if confirming something.

Only then did he retract his gaze, returning it to Garoth's faceplate.

"I know Your Majesty dislikes beating around the bush."

"So, I'll speak plainly. I wish to reach a cooperation with you."

Hearing this, the great dragon's vertical pupils narrowed to half-mast, his eyelids covering half the pupils.

"Cooperation?"

"You came alone late at night, covered the sky with shadow, twisted space to seal off the outside world... This behavior hardly seems like coming to negotiate a cooperation that can be conducted in the open."

He said with a mocking tone.

The Dark Star's expression barely changed. "I don't mind Your Majesty's laughter."

"Our Halden Empire, perched above the clouds, looking down on all mortal beings, appears lofty and splendid on the surface. But peel away that shiny shell, and it's no different from any ordinary kingdom."

"It's just as filthy, just as full of shady dealings."

This was no secret.

Hearing these words, the red iron dragon's heart was utterly unmoved, almost amused.

The Dark Star's voice gained a slight edge as he continued, "The empire's system is extremely corrupt and rigid."

"The royal family and nobles, for their own selfish interests and for so-called honor, even dared to develop the dangerous Abyss, staking the empire and countless subjects' fates on a gamble, inviting disaster."

"They are addicted to the empire's glory, refuse any change, and see every attempt at reform as a blasphemy against tradition."

"If this continues, the empire's destruction is inevitable."

"Even without the Abyss, something else would do it."

As he spoke, Ryan's gaze grew profound, a sharp edge flashing in his eyes.

That ordinary, plain face finally bore a feature that could be remembered.

"I rose from obscurity, witnessing too much ugliness and injustice along the way. At the time, I thought that once I reached a high position, I could use my ideas to influence Halden."

"But the facts proved me wrong."

"Only a radical reform, cutting away all the rotten flesh, could get this old machine running again, granting it new life. Yet, every proposal I made, every attempt I made, was met with heavy obstacles."

He paused, his gaze sharpening further.

"I now even suspect that the King of Halden, Fafnir, and our empire's immortal known as Dawn, Noxian... both of them, along with numerous Destiny-stage cultivators and ministers of the Central Command, have been corroded by the Abyss without even knowing it."

The red iron dragon's gaze tightened slightly.

The immortal and the emperor, both corroded?

If that were true, Halden's problems were far more severe than outsiders had speculated. However, though this man's words sounded impassioned, they couldn't be taken at face value.

Garoth didn't rush to respond. He just listened quietly, his eyes betraying neither joy nor anger.

"Their decisions are becoming increasingly radical and reckless."

"Fafnir has formally proposed to the Imperial Central Command that, after the Platinum Star is restored, they counterattack the Abyss. That is nothing short of suicide. And Noxian... my colleague, my senior, his recent behavior has also become unpredictable."

"He, who used to detest noisy affairs, now completely endorses Fafnir's proposal."

The information from the Dark Star was enormous.

The red iron dragon's eyes showed a thoughtful expression, but still, he said nothing more.

At this point, the Dark Star, Ryan, let out a light sigh. "This is not the Halden I know. Something is corroding it from within, and I... cannot stop it alone."

In recent years, Halden had mostly remained silent, closing its doors to deal with the mess it had stirred up.

Although it had hoped for support before, it had never begged or complained.

Garoth had assumed it was handling things reasonably well.

But now, it seemed his situation was not optimistic.

"These are all Halden's private affairs."

"Your throne succession, your factional infighting, whether any of your people have fallen into the Abyss's mire... I'm not interested, and I don't care."

"First, tell me: what exactly do you mean by cooperation?"

The red iron dragon lowered his massive head and said.

Ryan Steinbeck took a deep breath.

In an instant, all hesitation on that ordinary face was stripped away.

He lifted his head, looking up at the imposing, majestic red iron dragon.

"I want to carry out a thorough reform."

"Overturn the existing Imperial Central Command, end the hereditary monopoly of the royal bloodline, break the shackles, and choose more suitable leaders from the people, rather than letting a single bloodline family forever hold the empire's fate."

"The cooperation I seek is to invite you to join this reform."

"I can shield all your presence, bypass the layers upon layers of detection arrays in the City in the Clouds, and lead you directly into Halden's heart and core."

"You, me, and a few of my trusted confidants."

"We can work from within and without, seizing control of the Central Command in a short time."

An immortal, crossing the boundary between two empires, sneaking into his territory, and telling him he wanted to ask for help overthrowing his own empire.

It sounded utterly absurd.

The red iron dragon stretched his wings, carefully scrutinizing the human before him.

This guy was plain-looking, but his guts and resolve were considerable. Inviting him to participate—wasn't he afraid of inviting a wolf into the house?

"Human, aren't you afraid that I'll use the chaos to swallow Halden whole?"

He asked.

The Dark Star shook his head.

He said, "Sacred Aola and Halden are mortal enemies—I won't deny that."

"But even so, there are few negative comments about you within Halden. Even the proudest Halden subjects acknowledge you as a dragon king who keeps his word and deserves respect."

Garoth was speechless.

His reputation had always been good.

He disliked breaking his promises and never stooped to playing schemes and tricks.

To some extent, this style of conduct had, in the eyes of his enemies, become a trustworthy quality.

Except for a few utterly unreasonable beings like the Bronze Dragon King, even his opponents harbored no hatred or resentment toward him. It was merely a matter of different stances and camps.

"If I agree, what do I get?"

Garoth asked.

The Dark Star had clearly already thought this through and immediately replied, "After it's done... Atlan's sky and land will belong entirely to Sacred Aola."

"All our technology, the knowledge accumulated over countless years, including the records of Abyss research."

"All of this will become yours for the taking."

"And I..."

He paused, a hard-to-describe expression flickering across his ordinary face.

"I will lead Halden's subjects to relocate to another Material Plane, far away from Atlan, far away from Bernardo, abandoning everything we once occupied."

"Starting over from scratch, establishing a new imperial chapter in a new world."

"Building a new Halden, without shackles, truly belonging to the people... a new Halden."