Nightmare’s Call

Chapter 411: Imminent: Part 1

“Aahhh! Khadula!”

A horrified scream broke through the night in the Xylond Sanctum, scaring a handful of owls in the woods as they flapped their wings, flying away like possessed owls. The janitors in the Sanctum stopped what they were doing, looking toward the sound source.

Behind the Sanctum, in the massive, just completed the holy hall, the Night Lord bounced to his feet, heart in his mouth. He looked down the hole in his bed at Khadula, who crouched inside the hole he had dug under the bed.

She was one of Khadula’s avatars, aide-de-camp, Khadula 1131. Before this Khadula 1131 became one with Khadula, she was the housekeeper cum defense assistant of the royal court of some ancient kingdom. Sent by Khadula, she would be the close assistant of the Night Lord, running errands for him.

“You may keep your voice down,” Khadula 1131 said.

Khadula 1131 wore a gray uniform that looked like a slim-fit outfit with a miniskirt on the outside. Looking from the perspective of combat, this was an ideal attire. Hidden underneath this skinny dress were various small weapons. The Night Lord had seen it with his own eyes before; this new assistant of his had killed thirteen transcendents in five seconds.

“You’re lucky that I haven’t done my business down the hole. Isn’t it unseemly for you to come into the room of a bachelor?”

The Night Lord pulled the quilt tightly over himself and sat on a chair. Since he was not discovered, he had nothing to lose.

“No worries. I have seen nothing.” Khadula 1131 appeared composed.

“Just cut the cackle. Why are you barging into my room at this late hour? You should know that seven in the evening is my time for beauty sleep,” barked the Night Lord. He was not too happy, but he also knew this aide-de-camp well. Despite the short time he had known her, he saw that she had a distinct way of doing things. She would not disturb him if it was just for something trivial.

“Sir.” Khadula 1131 bowed slightly. She then lunged out from the hole in the bed and stood there. “Khadula One hopes you can head over to check the progress.”

“Um, are you talking about opening up the route in the Pearl Ocean?” The Night Lord felt a sense of seriousness.

Since Lin Sheng successfully got a foothold in Henricqal, he decreed that all commanders of his must find ways to establish a route between the two sanctums. Separating the Xylond Sanctum and Henricqal Sanctum was a body of waters called the Pearl Ocean, which was about 1,000 kilometers across.

It was fairly easy to traverse the two places before the Blacktide outbreak. But as the Blacktide ravaged through the world, it did not matter what kind of transport one used; the cost was prohibitive. The wealthy were scrambling to move to a safer area. Sense of security had become the world’s only motivation.

Since the outbreak, Xylond Sanctum had dispatched two small fleets. Unfortunately, both fleets disappeared in the Pearl Ocean, one following the other. As the thick and mysterious fog on the sea surface had a strong signal interference quality, even satellites could not peer through the fog to see what happened down there. And this was why establishing a link between the two places was the most important task.

“My suggestion is, if you do not have the strength of a Six-winger, you better not send anyone out to get killed,” the Night Lord said.

“In the fleet we deployed before, there was an Oppressor-class individual, who was the strongest among them all…

“But even before the Oppressor-class individual could send back any signal, the person mysteriously disappeared. You can imagine how dangerous the Pearl Ocean is.”

“I understand. I will convey your message to Sir. Khadula One.”

All Khadulas were connected. When one got the information, the others would receive it immediately.

“Besides, the Original has recruited a new member who is of the same class as me,” said the Night Lord. “If it is possible, I will—”

“Challenge them? Not wanting the late-comers to get ahead of you?” The aide-de-camp got the hint. “Is this about the dignity of the dragon bloodline?”

Standing in his shoes, the aide-de-camp instantly felt an honorable ancient self-esteem rise within her. It made her realize that the master she served was of the bloodline of the legendary Shadow Dragonking. The aide-de-camp kept her head low.

“Understood. I will not let you down.”

“No… I was just thinking…”

“When would she come and take over the stuff here…”

The Night Lord put up his hand.

“It doesn’t make a difference whether I’m here. I still think I’m more suited to be a reserve—the kind that you will never have to use it.”

“So you want to be the reserve who will never be called up?” The aide-de-camp did not know what to say more.

…

On a white isolated beach somewhere along the coast of Xylond.

“Welcome to Xylond, the Second Seat, Sir. Aelfe Shafrayne!”

Twenty gray-robed figures were on one knee, waiting with the highest respect as the white-haired man emerged from out of the water. The white-haired man looked strong, a metal flowery pattern inlaid right in his chest.

The wind was howling strongly in the surroundings as all the gray-robed figures kept their head low with thin plumes of dark-energy smoke pervading behind them. The greenish smoke shot out and formed what looked like a semi-transparent shield in the air above them. It was apparent these gray-robed figures were all transcendent. They did not come to this desolate wilderness without a solid plan in place.

The leading gray-robed figure was a shriveled old woman who adorned herself with a gold frontlet over her forehead. She held a black short staff in her hand. She was stooped and short, her eyes that looked like a pair of plastic balls looking up, staring at the emerging Second Seat.

“Sir, would you please let us know your purpose of coming?”

She would not be this flippant if it was the other Sevenlocks. But the one here was her grandfather-in-law. That was also the reason she was sent to receive him.

“I have only one mission in Xylond…” Second Seat Aelfe was expressionless, voice proud. “…which is to destroy the Sanctum headquarters.”

“The Sanctum headquarters?” The old woman knew that there was a conflict between the Sanctum and the Sevenlocks Tower, but it should not be irreconcilable. She had long heard that as a newly emerging force of influence, the Sanctum was distinct and playing a significant role against the Blacktide.

The Sanctum headquarter is in Shermanton, occupying a small hill to themselves. They called the hill the Sanctum Hill. their headquarters should be right up the top.

Second Seat Aelfe nodded in acknowledgment. “Good job.” He checked his watch. “Arrange a vehicle. I have an appointment in the evening.”

“Understood!” The old woman got to her feet.

Second Seat Aelfe suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking up. “Someone is watching in the distance. Finish them off!”

He then strode up the beach where there was nothing but shingle. Then a Fortress-model blue tank suddenly appeared out of thin air. As he climbed into the tank, the gray-robed figures split into two teams, one going to finish off the enemy scout, the other into the vehicles that emerged following the first one.

“The Sanctum…” Sitting in the tank, Second Seat Aelfe smirked with derision.

According to the intel, since the establishment of Henricqal Sanctum, the sanctum here had never produced a Palatinate. It was evident that their assessment was accurate. Without a doubt, the Sanctum here was only a shell.

“Pain and agony await you for daring to resist the supreme Sevenlocks Tower. I’d enjoy seeing that happen slowly…” He licked his lips, tongue sticking out from his mouth a slug that looked like a snake.