Chapter 75: Movements from All Sides (8/26)

The Lighthouse Castle Complex is the largest cluster of castles beneath the Rocky Mountains, said to be home to the wealthiest elite of Ameliki Lighthouse Nation. The top twenty richest individuals in the entire country have their own castles here, but the greatest of them all is the legendary Dragon Castle—Silver Wing.

There are countless legends surrounding this castle. It is rumored that several dragons reside beneath its foundations. Some say there is a treasure vault below, filled to the brim with gold. Others claim that every swimming pool in the castle flows not with water, but with coins. Yet, no one knows the truth: the castle has long been uninhabited.

Only the servants charged with maintaining the estate notice that it has been ages since they last saw their master. Deep underground, in the fabled vault of gold, a silver-haired man lies upon a mound of treasure. His eyes are silver, his body covered in silvery scales, and not even sleepwear can conceal the strange aura that surrounds him.

He reclines on the gold, ceaselessly grasping coins and pressing them to his face, as though this somehow eased his discomfort.

“When will the era of spiritual rejuvenation finally arrive?” he murmured. “I can barely suppress my bloodline any longer. If this continues, I’ll turn into a silver dragon like my old man, destined to slumber endlessly beneath the castle.”

Suddenly, the vault door swung open and a butler-like figure entered.

“Master, the young lord is in trouble.”

The man lying among the coins abruptly sat up. “What happened? Didn’t he say he was just going to play in Xinxiang?”

“The young lord discovered clues left behind by the great demon of the European continent, remnants of a treasure from its final defeat, and went out to search for it. He dove underwater, poured his efforts into the quest, but found in the submarine that the treasure had already been taken. He traced it to members of the Holy Blood Council, who managed to seize the gold before him, so he traveled to Xinxiang to pursue the trail.”

“And afterwards? Why did something happen so suddenly?” The man’s expression grew serious.

“The last message received indicated he had found the headquarters of the Holy Blood Council.”

“He stormed in for a confrontation, didn’t he?” The man instantly grasped the situation regarding his son.

“That is our assumption. What none of us expected was that someone from the Holy Blood Council managed to break through the young lord’s defenses.”

“I’ve told him countless times: the defense of a silver dragon is not the strongest. He needs to be careful—over and over again—but he never listens.” The man stood, walked a few steps across the coins, and finally addressed the butler.

“Contact our people in Xinxiang. I want to know my son’s fate. Even if he’s dead, bring his body back. Our silver dragon bloodline must never be left outside.”

The butler nodded and was about to leave when the man called him back. “Take those experimental subjects with you. If possible, erase the Holy Blood Council entirely.”

This time, the butler hesitated. He knew a little about the Holy Blood Council; in the age of declining magic, it was a formidable organization.

“No need to worry so much,” the man reassured him. “The bat has abandoned the Holy Blood Council; now it’s just a bunch of useless fools playing at power.”

Now the butler nodded in agreement and withdrew.

On the other side of the Rockies, a similar drama unfolded in a different household. The Brest family, unlike the opulent castle-dwellers, had no grand estate. Their home was a modest manor near the mountains, resembling more a small town. Every man and woman within bore the Brest name.

The family’s elder patriarch was a man who appeared to be in his eighties or nineties, with a thick head of silvery hair and a sprightly demeanor. At this moment, he sat listening to a report from his old butler.

“You say Arod is dead? Didn’t he go to the Holy Blood Council to serve as vice-chairman? How did this happen?”

“We’ve yet to receive full details, but one thing is certain: It was young master Arod’s son who met trouble first, and Arod was killed while pursuing the culprit.”

“A bunch of useless fools!” The old man slammed his chair. “I’ve told them time and again: for us werewolves, bloodline is everything. Yet they believe in those outdated legends, that spiritual energy is most important, and want to learn magic—forgetting their roots. Gather the remaining family members. Tell them none may leave the estate until their bloodline awakens.”

“And the Holy Blood Council?” the butler asked.

“Demand they surrender the culprit, or I’ll treat them as the guilty party.”

In Xinxiang, near Fifth Avenue, the door to a small apartment was flung open. The room, less than ten square meters, was meticulously organized, every item in its place. Yet the owner, upon entering, dropped her belongings without care and collapsed on the bed, unwilling to move.

Zhong Kui’s Timid Ghost watched this rather lovely young woman with nervous caution, unsure why Ou Xiaolu was so concerned about a girl whose name remained unknown. But Zhong Kui had already granted control of the Timid Ghost to Aro, so no matter how unwilling, the ghost had to fulfill Ou Xiaolu’s mission.

Suddenly, the young woman sat up, her expression stern. “I don’t know how you got in here, but you’ve been following me for a long time. Get out, or you’ll regret it.”

The Timid Ghost wasn’t sure if she meant him, but his nature compelled him to slip out of the room at once. Yet remembering Ou Xiaolu’s orders, he crept back, pressing his head to the door to listen.

As soon as his head touched the door, it was pulled open. The girl, fist raised, was about to strike, but seeing the empty hallway, her face filled with confusion.

“What’s going on? I just felt someone listening at the door—how could no one be there?”

She closed the door, dismissing the matter, while the Timid Ghost was already fleeing toward Aro. In his mind, one thing was clear: this girl had an extraordinary sensing ability, able to perceive others’ gaze, and her combat prowess was formidable. When she threw that punch, the Timid Ghost felt as though he might be destroyed all over again.