At the same time, on the northern side of Starfall Forest.
The scenery here took on a completely different appearance.
Unlike the lush and vibrant southern side of Starfall Forest, this region was completely desolate and dead.
Dark brown branches twisted into the sky like withered fingers stretching up from underground.
A continuous range of giant black peaks stretched for thousands of miles, standing like a massive dark wall that forcibly separated the northern and southern realms of the continent of Aenoria.
The sky was gloomy, as if permanently veiled in a haze of gray decay.
This place was known as the Corrupted Mountain Range.
Deep within a basin in the mountain range slept a dead city forgotten by time.
Black vines crawled all over the tall, towering city walls. The defensive magic circles etched into the stone had long since lost their former brilliance, leaving only mottled lines that told of past glory.
Rubble and ruins were everywhere along the streets. The once-bustling buildings were reduced to broken walls, now turned into dens for evil creatures.
Tall, lumbering ogres dragged wooden clubs as they wandered through the ruins. Foul-smelling ghouls picked through the rubble in search of food. Rotting zombies dragged heavy steps around street corners, and bleached skeletons emerged from collapsed houses, dark blue soulfire flickering within their eye sockets.
Low growls of the undead rose and fell, making this dead city feel even more eerie.
No one knew why this once-prosperous human city had turned into a paradise for the undead overnight.
Deepest beneath the city, atop an ancient altar, a dark dragon shadow curled quietly.
Only a dozen meters long, the dragon's body was nowhere near as colossal as its avatar that blotted out the sky. Its scales had lost their luster, and many deep, bone-revealing old wounds scarred its form.
This dragon was none other than the true body of the Lord of Plague and Calamity—Mosator.
Just as Iluvia had guessed, his condition was extremely bad—far worse than anticipated.
In the gloomy altar, the dragon's body suddenly trembled uncontrollably.
“Ugh...”
A muffled grunt rolled out from his throat. Immediately after, he jerked his head up and spat out a mouthful of dragon blood glowing with golden light. It splashed onto the dark stone platform, sizzling and releasing white smoke. His already withered aura instantly weakened by another notch.
“Who was it?!!”
Dark-gold vertical pupils snapped open, filled with surging, sky-blazing anger. His claws clenched so hard that thin cracks spread across the stone platform.
He felt it.
The connection to his avatar... was severed.
Mosator's chest heaved violently, fury almost bursting through his chest.
Yet he gritted his teeth, forcibly suppressing the churning blood—if he lost his temper any further, his already unstable injuries would only worsen.
After calming down for a long time, he tried to reconnect to his avatar several times, but every attempt sank into the abyss.
“They actually completely annihilated my avatar...”
He muttered under his breath. Suddenly realizing something, his expression turned grave.
Mosator then sensed the direction where the avatar's signal was lost:
“Starfall Forest?”
His eyes flickered unsteadily.
No one knew what he was thinking. Ultimately, he looked in a certain direction as if calling out to something.
Before long...
A black-robed figure slowly emerged from the darkness.
“Oh? My Lord Calamity Dragon King, who could have troubled you so?”
There was little respect in the raspy voice; instead, it carried a touch of mockery and playfulness.
Mosator shot him a side glance and snorted coldly, his pressure intimidating as he spoke in an icy tone:
“Watch your attitude, filthy worm.”
The figure in black robes chuckled softly, unbothered, then said in a lukewarm tone, “Very well, my respected Lord Calamity Dragon King, are you satisfied now?”
Mosator didn't waste any more time arguing over forms of address.
The current situation was unclear, and he still needed to rely on the other's strength.
Suppressing his anger, he got straight to the point, his voice deep and solemn:
“My avatar vanished in Starfall Forest.”
The moment those words left his mouth, the black-robed figure froze. It took several seconds before he moved again, his tone distinctly more serious:
“Was our secret gathering of Divine Spark Fragments exposed?”
“No,” Mosator said. “If it were one of the lords from the Supreme Temple who moved against me, they would have immediately broadcasted it to all the gods, and I would have received a warning from the Dragon God. They wouldn't silently annihilate one of my avatars without a word.”
The black-robed figure didn't feel relieved by this; instead, he grew perplexed. “Then what on earth...?”
Mosator narrowed his eyes. “That is precisely what puzzles me.”
“Since the opponent didn't do it because of that, why destroy my avatar?”
“Wouldn't it be better to catch me on the spot and report it to the lords of the Supreme Temple?”
“Unless...”
As if realizing something, his voice abruptly stopped.
The black-robed figure waited a moment, and seeing that Mosator didn't intend to lay all his cards on the table, knew he wouldn't get more details.
He didn't mind either. As long as the matter regarding the Divine Spark Fragments wasn't exposed, it wasn't his headache.
“Will this... affect our plan a year from now?”
He switched the topic, a hint of probing in his tone.
This was his primary concern.
Mosator's eyes flickered. After a few seconds of silence, he slowly said, “Not for now.”
“However...” He pivoted. “As time goes on, it will be hard to say.”
Hearing this, the black-robed figure fell silent as well, his fingers lightly tapping his sleeve inside the shadows, unsure of what he was calculating.
After a long pause, he spoke up, “What do you need me to do?”
“Send your people over to assist my believers in finding out exactly what happened in Starfall Forest that day and where the opponent came from.”
Mosator's voice carried an unquestionable command. “The more detailed the investigation, the better.”
...
In the border region between the Corrupted Mountain Range and Starfall Forest, a kobold tribe of over a thousand members was entrenched.
Most of the tribe consisted of ordinary kobolds, huddled in crude wooden sheds holding wooden clubs and stone axes. Only a few leader-level individuals possessed Bronze Rank strength, barely maintaining order within the tribe.
Right in the middle of the tribe stood a remarkably striking stone building, far sturdier than the surrounding wooden sheds.
Rugged murals were carved into both sides of the walls, depicting scenes of surging dragons and gods slaughtering gods in divine war. Though the brushwork was rough, it exuded a wild, primitive devotion.
Inside the building was a crude temple. Upon an altar built of stacked beast bones stood a two-meter-tall dragon-shaped statue—the Lord of Plague and Calamity, Mosator Gross.
An old kobold wrapped in a tattered hide robe was prostrating before the altar, praying devoutly.
Wrinkles stacked across its face, and its beard was entirely white. Clutched in its hand was a bone staff. This was the tribe's Grand Shaman—the very "Lord Shaman" mentioned by Black Tooth.
Suddenly!
The dark dragon statue burst with a dense, deep surge of dark divine light!
The old shaman abruptly raised his head, fanatical light bursting from his cloudy eyes as his entire body trembled with excitement.
“Your Grace! Your Grace has responded to me!!”
In the next second, a majestic, icy voice exploded directly within his mind:
“A change has occurred in Starfall Forest. Take your people immediately to find out what happened there.”
Mosator's oracle was brief and powerful, giving an accurate location before adding:
“I will send a few helpers over from the Corrupted Mountain Range to assist your investigation. Remember, you must uncover the opponent's true background, and no reckless actions are permitted.”
The old shaman prostrated in overwhelming excitement, his forehead pressed tightly against the cold stone floor, his voice raspy yet filled with near-frenzied zealotry:
“We obey Your Grace's oracle!”
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