Chapter 160: Bluffing

Hovering in the howling night wind beneath the cold moonlight, the White Dragon Lord beat his massive wings. His expression was solemn as he stared at a golden mass of light rapidly approaching across the distant sky.

The golden light soon drew close.

The White Dragon Lord could clearly see the humanoid figure within the glow.

It was the spiritual leader of the Northern Barbarians, the mortal proxy of the barbarian god Balinor in Nordhill, the archbishop of the Barbarian Church, the Legendary Priest—Ogsger!

However, the once immensely glorious Legendary Priest was currently in rather poor shape.

Ogsger wore battered black armor and gripped a blood-stained Spiked Mace. His unkempt hair whipped wildly in the wind. His thick beard, long neglected, was matted into clumps by sweat and grime, leaving him looking as wretched as a vagrant.

Ogsger stopped a hundred meters away from the white dragon, his chest heaving violently.

The Legendary Priest's eyes were bloodshot and glaring with a ferocious light, making him look like a wild beast ready to devour its prey. Tracking his target all the way here, he felt the divine mark he had planted simply vanish. He had lost the Dragon Mother's location.

This disappearance had to be the doing of the white dragon before him. The Legendary Priest locked a death stare on the White Dragon Lord.

Amos met the maddened Legendary Priest's gaze and, refusing to be outdone, unleashed his own tremendous magical power.

A formidable aura of invisible energy erupted from the White Dragon Lord. It swept through the night sky and washed over the Legendary Priest. Ogsger instinctively tensed, his muscles pulling taut as his grip tightened on his filthy, blood-stained Spiked Mace.

Hm?!

Recovering from his initial shock, Ogsger felt a deep wave of shame. As the mortal proxy of Lord Balinor, to be startled by an evil dragon's aura was an utter disgrace to his god.

After the shame came a surging tide of fury. Refusing to back down, Ogsger channeled the formidable divine power within his body, meeting the White Dragon Lord in a direct clash of auras.

One was a veteran, fanatic Legendary Priest; the other, a formidable white dragon rising like a comet. Their competing auras were evenly matched.

This terrifying pressure shrouded all of Tasman Island. Weaker creatures immediately felt as if a heavy stone had been pressed against their chests, leaving them gasping for air.

The two powerhouses faced off.

Eventually, Ogsger lost his patience. For one, he was anxious and desperate to resume hunting the Dragon Mother. For another, he could sense a Warrior who had recently reached the Legendary Rank Tier rapidly approaching from the ground below.

The Legendary Priest's voice was hoarse as he squeezed the words through his teeth.

"Where! Is! She!?"

Facing the Legendary Priest's demands, the White Dragon Lord haughtily raised his head, his expression filled with contempt.

"You're late, stray dog! Salilina has already teleported away!"

Ogsger's face instantly turned ashen. After the disaster in Sandonar, he had sworn an oath that he would never enter the Divine Kingdom if he failed to slay the Dragon Mother. Thus, he had pursued her at all costs.

Just as he had successfully planted his divine mark on the Dragon Mother and finally seen the dawn of hope, the White Dragon Lord's words cast him straight into the Abyss.

Seeing the Legendary Priest's gaze shift from deadened despair to utter madness, the White Dragon Lord figured the time was right and spoke up.

"Ogsger, think carefully! Will you detonate yourself right here, condemning your soul to fall into the Abyss, or will you continue to pursue your oath and chase that final glimmer of hope?"

Hearing the word "hope," the Legendary Priest clung to it like a drowning man to a lifeline. The madness in his heart gradually gave way to a desperate yearning.

Right! I still have hope! I still have time! If I keep searching and kill that damned white dragon, I can still enter Lord Balinor's kingdom in glory!

For a fanatic-level Legendary Priest, there was no punishment more terrifying than being barred from their god's Divine Kingdom in death.

Therefore, as long as even a sliver of hope remained, Ogsger would not carelessly detonate himself.

Amos had seized upon this exact psychological weakness. He had dared to provoke the man into losing his rationality, only to strategically pull him back from the very brink of self-detonation with a few calculated words.

Having been whipped from hope to utter despair, and then back to hope again, Ogsger's mind was now a scrambled mess. He had completely lost the capacity for rational thought.

"Oh, Archbishop Ogsger, I truly sympathize with the plight of the Northern Barbarians. But Salilina is my mother, after all. Faced with her pleas, I had to help her. I teleported her to the Sunset Plain in the western part of the continent, far beyond the sensing range of your divine mark."

The White Dragon Lord smoothly continued his bluff.

"If you act quickly, you might still be able to track her down via teleportation arrays. But if you wait until my dear mother manages to purge your divine mark, you'll be in for another agonizing search."

Stripped of his rational judgment, the Legendary Priest absorbed the White Dragon Lord's words. He shot the dragon a murderous glare, then abruptly turned and flew away.

Watching the harbinger of disaster vanish over the horizon, the White Dragon Lord let out a long breath. Truth be told, confronting a walking bomb that could detonate at any second had left Amos feeling genuinely unnerved.

If Ogsger had truly succumbed to madness and self-destructed on Tasman Island, the White Dragon Lord figured he could have narrowly escaped via teleportation. However, all of his subordinates on the island would have instantly been sent packing to the Divine Kingdom.

Fortunately, none of that happened. Ogsger was gone.

...

The next morning.

A special guest sat in the reception hall of White Castle: the Dragon Mother, Salilina.

Amos, Felicia, Willy, and the Dragon Mother sat in a circle, dining on delicacies from the deep ocean.

Course after course flowed onto the table, hauled in by Ogre servants, while stacks of empty platters were just as swiftly cleared away. Dozens of halfling chefs scrambled to plate the food, barely keeping pace with the voracious appetites of four white dragons.

Sated after the massive meal, the Dragon Mother eyed the remaining empty golden platters. Treating them as a post-meal snack, she tossed them into her mouth, crunched them to pieces, and swallowed them down.

She had spent the entire night tirelessly working to erase the divine mark and casting healing spells on herself. While her internal injuries were still far from fully healed, she appeared perfectly fine on the surface.

Looking at the Dragon Mother's relaxed, comfortable expression, Amos finally voiced the question lingering in his mind.

"Mother, why didn't you retreat to the Great Glacier? Even ten Ogsgers wouldn't pose a threat to you once you were inside the white dragons' primary stronghold."

Beside him, Felicia also chimed in.

"Exactly. Without adequate cold-resistance gear in the Great Glacier, those frail barbarians would lose at least twenty percent of their combat power. Furthermore, they'd never even be able to push deep into the glacier. The howling blizzards, hidden crevasses, and packs of winter wolves and polar bears would be enough to claim their lives."

Hearing this, the Dragon Mother's expression turned complicated.

"A mortal enemy of mine resides in the Great Glacier. I would rather die than slink back in such a wretched state just to hide and endure their mockery. Besides, I simply didn't expect these lowly, inferior races to actually track down my location."

Willy looked confused.

"Then how did the barbarians manage to find you once you went into hiding?"

The Dragon Mother herself looked perplexed.

"I have no idea. It was as if they knew my exact coordinates, marching directly toward my secret hideout."

Willy furrowed his brow.

"Could the Legendary Priest have cast a Greater Divination Spell?"

"Impossible. Using a Greater Divination Spell to pinpoint a priest of another god is costly enough, but considering Mother is also a True Dragon of Legendary Rank strength, the combined toll would be utterly astronomical. Even as a Legendary Priest, Ogsger couldn't possibly afford that price."

Amos nodded. Felicia made perfect sense. The backlash from using a Greater Divination Spell to track an opponent of equal tier would be too steep for the Legendary Priest to bear.

"Mother, who else knew about your hideout?"

At this, the Dragon Mother immediately grasped Amos's implication. Her expression turned ice-cold. There were indeed too many suspicious elements surrounding her exposure. While she was running for her life, she hadn't had the luxury to dwell on the underlying reasons. But now that she was safe, she began to carefully analyze the situation.

After a moment, she spat out a name through gritted teeth.

"The! Cult! Of! The! Dragon!"

The Dragon Mother continued, "I established that base alongside the Cult of the Dragon. Other than myself and a handful of my highest-ranking subordinates, only the Cult of the Dragon knew its location. And Siegfried and Ogsger clearly came fully prepared..."

Subordinates could never betray the master who bestowed them with a draconic bloodline, because draconic conversion acted as a binding contract. The very second a subordinate harbored thoughts of betrayal, the dragon blood running through their veins would spontaneously collapse. Therefore, the prime suspect could only be the Cult of the Dragon.

By the standards of the multiverse, the Cult of the Dragon was a textbook heretical cult—primarily because the entities they worshipped were not true gods.

Even judging by their methods, they fit the criteria perfectly. The organization's primary obsession was hoarding wealth, and they would resort to any means necessary to acquire it, having orchestrated a string of horrific massacres over the years.

Furthermore, the cult's core doctrine was deeply twisted. They firmly believed that True Dragons were the most perfect lifeforms in the world—a sentiment that True Dragons themselves, regardless of their moral alignment, widely and wholeheartedly agreed with.

However, the Cult of the Dragon also believed that the undead represented the most perfect state of being. Undead creatures knew no fatigue and were freed from the constraints of a natural lifespan. Thus, merging the might of a True Dragon with the immortality of the undead was the cult's ultimate ambition.

Consequently, the Cult of the Dragon was fanatically dedicated to converting True Dragons into undead wyrms.

Over the ages, driven by the fear of death, there were always a few Very Old Dragons whose progression had permanently stalled that would voluntarily seek out the Cult of the Dragon to undergo the undead conversion. In turn, these immortal and tremendously powerful undead dragons became the enduring pillars that kept the cult standing strong.

Having tasted the benefits, the Cult of the Dragon grew increasingly desperate to recruit more undead dragons to their ranks. Unfortunately for them, the True Dragon Race was notoriously proud. Most True Dragons would rather embrace eternal slumber than debase themselves as undead monstrosities just to prolong their existence.

Thus, in an effort to lure in more True Dragons, the cult resorted to offering their services to them, biding their time and waiting for the right opportunities.

The True Dragons were well aware of the cult's insidious motives. The Metallic Dragons consistently ignored their sycophancy, actively suppressing the cult at every turn.

The chromatic evil dragons, on the other hand, were largely an arrogant bunch brimming with overconfidence. Believing they could easily leash and control the cult, many accepted their services—particularly those functioning as territorial lords.

The Dragon Mother was one such lord. She had never expected the Cult of the Dragon to suddenly betray her and stab her in the back at such a critical juncture. Their motive went without saying: they wanted her corpse.

Realizing this, the Dragon Mother flew into a blistering rage.

Seeing that her explosive temper was on the verge of erupting, Amos hurriedly interjected.

"Mother, the immediate priority is to heal your wounds and evade Ogsger before he can drag you down with him. As for the Cult of the Dragon, there will be plenty of opportunities to deal with them later."

Hearing Ogsger's name, the Dragon Mother immediately deflated.

Thirteen thousand years ago, seven cornered Legendary Priests had simultaneously detonated themselves. Their combined explosion had completely wiped out a besieging army from the Abyss, taking down seven Legendary Rank Level arch-demons and a High-Tier Legend demonic warlord in the process.

The sheer devastation of that blast had shocked the entire world. Ever since that day, Legendary Priests in Nordhill had become completely synonymous with individuals you simply did not provoke.

Therefore, faced with a Legendary Priest hell-bent on taking her life at the cost of his own, the Dragon Mother couldn't muster the courage to spout any bold threats.

"It seems I'll have to lay low for a while."

Amos nodded.

"Mother, you might as well dive into the deep sea. Head to the territories of the Naga Dynasty or the Fishman Dynasty, find a quiet place to sleep, and I'll notify you once Ogsger is dead."

The Dragon Mother genuinely considered Amos's proposal. While there were far more powerhouses dwelling in the ocean than on land, the ocean's vast area easily compensated for it.

Overall, the density of top-tier combatants beneath the waves was much lower than on the continent. With her Legendary Rank Level strength, claiming a secluded patch of territory in the desolate depths of the sea to wait out the storm would be incredibly easy.

"Alright, that's what I'll do!"

Amos produced a Dragon Scale and handed it to her.

Never one to dawdle, the Dragon Mother immediately bid her three children farewell and launched herself into the sky, flying out toward the deep sea.

"Amos, I have a question. What if Ogsger realizes he was fooled and comes back to settle the score with you?"

Hearing Willy's question, the White Dragon Lord froze.

Right. Sooner or later, Ogsger would cool off enough to spot the gaping holes in the lie. If he couldn't find the Dragon Mother, what was stopping him from coming back in a suicidal rage?

A massive headache began to throb behind the White Dragon Lord's eyes. He had a sinking feeling that he'd just dug a massive pit for himself.

"Erm... you two should head to the Dark Lands and lay low for a while."

Willy and Felicia exchanged a glance. They were well aware that staying behind wouldn't help in the slightest; they would only drag their brother down.

"Alright. Be careful."

The Dragon Brother and Dragon Sister spread their wings and flew off toward the Main Island.

Feeling immensely frustrated, Amos immediately ordered all the monster chieftains to leave and lay low as well.

If Ogsger really did come back and self-destruct, he needed to minimize White Castle's casualties.

Under the White Dragon Lord's mandatory decree, Gurgalu and the rest of the high-ranking subordinates evacuated.

At noon that very day, as the White Dragon Lord was resting upon the Crystal Throne, he sensed a familiar presence rapidly hurtling toward White Castle.

Even from a great distance, Amos could feel the wildly unstable divine energy radiating from Ogsger's body.

As an Ancestral Dragon, the White Dragon Lord didn't view a Legendary Priest's standard combat strength as much of a threat—but the sheer devastation of a suicidal blast was absolutely terrifying.

Bracing himself, the White Dragon Lord spread his wings and took to the sky.