Dragon Heart: Land of The Enemy. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 8 Read online

  “Am I the only one who finds this deal very strange?” Hadjar asked, feeling as if he’d missed something important while he’d been away. “As I recall, all of us, including you, Dora, have a very strained relationship with Tom.”

  “I agree with you, barbarian,” Tom suddenly interjected. Pushing aside a huge man, he and his sister walked over to their table. “However, one’s chances of survival in the Wastelands are better if they join a group. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that.”

  Hadjar stared at Tom. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit that the young heir had grown and gotten stronger in the past six weeks.

  “And what about your fight back at the School?” Hadjar sighed. “Are you and Einen going to try and kill each other during our venture?”

  “Only if the plebeian gives me a reason to do it.” Tom snorted. Grabbing a chair, he sat down. Anise, as befitting a bodyguard, continued standing, her hand never straying from the hilt of her sword. “And by the gods and demons, I really hope he does-”

  “Tom!” Dora shouted. “We talked about this! Show some basic manners or go and find new allies.”

  Hadjar sincerely doubted that her warning would work, so imagine his surprise when Tom, although begrudgingly, forced a smile and nodded.

  “By the High Heavens,” Hadjar sighed in frustration, “will someone please tell me what’s going on here!”

  “It’s simple, really...” Einen shrugged and gratefully accepted the wine from the waitress. “Someone has been trying to kill us since you left.”

  Chapter 646

  ...s omeone has been trying to do what now?

  Refusing the offered wine, Hadjar took out his pipe. Filling it with tobacco, he leaned back in his chair and lit it. The vice that had a detrimental effect on a mortal’s health and cultivation did nothing to strong practitioners and cultivators. However, despite that, it was still frowned upon. One of the other patrons sitting nearby turned to make a comment, but turned back to his friends the moment he saw all the jade tokens.

  “Kill us. Weren’t you listening?” Tom said. Refusing the wine, he intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them. “When Mentor Orune ordered us to go to the Wastelands, someone tried to kill all four of us.”

  Hadjar turned to Einen, who was too busy enjoying his wine to comment. Since he was the only one drinking, Hadjar assumed that Dora had ordered the alcohol simply because she’d known that Einen would like it.

  You’re just friends, riiiiiight...

  “You didn’t tell me that,” he said to Einen.

  “I couldn’t tell you while we were at the School. And, to be honest, I forgot.”

  Yeah, sounds like you all right...

  “Could you tell me about it now, at least?”

  “We must hurry to the Wastelands.” Anise placed a couple of strange, metallic plaques with pink crystals embedded in them on the table. “We’re lagging behind everyone else. If we continue to waste time, we’ll end up dead last.”

  “There are no losers here,” Hadjar objected harshly. “We need to find the key and the map. It all depends on luck more than anything else. I’m sure that the Masters have hidden them well.”

  “Are we going to ignore the obvious pitting of different Schools against each other?” Dora asked. “We’ll also have to fight other disciples.”

  “Thank you, Miss Obvious,” Tom said sarcastically. “I’d wondered why I needed you.”

  To his annoyance, everyone ignored him.

  “We don’t have to go looking for the items at all.” Hadjar shrugged. “We can wait for someone to find the map and the key and then steal them. I’m sure that the Masters implemented something like that to make things harder.”

  “What makes you say that?” Anise inquired.

  “I would’ve done it if I were them, but that doesn’t matter right now.” Hadjar waved his hand dismissively. “Tell me about the assassination attempts.”

  They were silent for a while.

  “It all started the moment we left the School,” Dora began. “We took a ship and flew to the Wastelands-”

  “We were attacked by pirates along the way,” Tom interrupted her. “We sent them to their forefathers and thought that it was just a coincidence.”

  Hadjar didn’t say anything, but he knew that it hadn’t been a coincidence.

  “We were attacked several times in the Wastelands after that,” Dora continued, sounding annoyed. “We were even attacked by an assassin at the Nameless level once.”

  Hadjar choked on smoke.

  “What? Cough-cough… By the High Stars and the Evening Heavens, who attacked you?”

  “It’s the other way around, my friend,” Einen corrected him calmly. “By the High Heavens and the Evening Stars.”

  Noticing his grin, Hadjar swore obscenely. Several cultivators that were sitting next to him were about to reach for their weapons, but backed down when they saw the jade tokens. Perhaps only the military tokens could’ve worked more effectively than those did. However, soldiers kept to themselves and were a rare sight anywhere outside their own School, which, isolated from the world, was shrouded in secrets and mysteries. The elite civilian disciples usually became commanders in the military, so their relationship was strained and much more intense than the rivalry between the civilian Schools.

  “Holy shit!” Hadjar swore angrily. “Someone sent a Nameless to eliminate elite disciples? That’s like using a frigate to conquer a border Kingdom!”

  Tom snorted. The place was noisy, so it was highly unlikely that anyone could hear them, but Anise kept watch just in case. Hadjar would’ve preferred a quiet and secluded place far from other people. A place where no one could’ve found or eavesdropped on them.

  “Yes, and water is wet. Again, thank you, Mister Obvious.”

  Hadjar barely held back from spitting out a snarky remark.

  “We were able to get away from him,” Dora continued. “It was difficult. Einen and Anise have scars from that fight. Tom barely-”

  She stopped once she noticed Tom’s glare. None of them seemed very willing to remember that battle. Hadjar understood them. He’d encountered a similar monster himself while fighting against the Dah’Khasses. But even though their King had been ancient, he’d still lacked all the advantages of a true human cultivator.

  “I won’t tell you how,” Dora held out her hand, and Einen handed her a glass of wine. She took a sip and grimaced, “but we were able to trace their chain of command.”

  “And it brought you to ‘The Holy Sky’ School,” Hadjar guessed.

  “So, we made a deal,” Tom added. “Every time we leave the School, we’ll stick together.”

  “And that little performance back at the platform was…”

  “…Meant to confuse our pursuer,” Anise explained.

  Hadjar looked into her green eyes. He had no clue what kind of secrets the Dinos were hiding. He’d heard a lot of rumors about their family, but no one really knew what was true and what was an exaggeration or outright lie.

  “Since I wasn’t there at the time-”

  “We don’t trust anyone,” Dora interrupted him. “Einen tried to convince us you were innocent. However, the majority of us agreed to tell you about this only after we voted on it.”

  Hadjar turned to Einen. The islander raised his glass, and Hadjar responded with a nod. He wouldn’t hesitate to put his life in Einen’s hands, which, in the world of martial arts, was considered to be the greatest sign of trust. He’d never doubted Einen’s loyalty.

  “I apologize, Hadjar Darkhan,” Anise said and put her hand to her chest. “I was the one who suggested that you were involved.”

  Hadjar felt a pang in his chest for a moment.

  “Did you consider the possibility that this might have something to do with what’s going on between the clans?”

  “We did.” Tom was toying with the pass that would soon grant them access to the Wastelands with a bored look on his face. “But there’s
no chance that anyone could’ve just stumbled upon the School by accident.”

  Hadjar swore again.

  “So you decided to stick together.”

  The four of them nodded in unison. Einen seemed even calmer than usual for some reason.

  “You know what the key is, don’t you?” Hadjar asked in the islander’s native language, surprising the rest of the squad.

  “My mother was the best thief to ever sail on a ship, my barbarian friend.”

  Hadjar smiled widely when he noticed the purple glimmer in Einen’s eyes, which were just barely visible under his eyelashes.

  “Did you see the map?” He asked.

  “Maybe,” Hadjar said evasively.

  He had actually seen it. Just for a moment. Even a Spirit Knight wouldn’t have managed to memorize it in such a brief amount of time. However, thanks to his neural network, Hadjar now knew every bit of ink on it.

  “What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

  Hadjar shrugged. “Private stuff.”

  The silence that descended on their table was suddenly broken by Dora grabbing one of the passes and heading for the exit.

  “If that’s everything, then we should get going. Let’s start with the stables. The Desert horses are best suited for traversing the Wastelands. However, given the hype surrounding them, I’m not sure that we’ll be able to get five-”

  “Four,” Hadjar corrected her.

  “I understand your dislike of mounts, but-”

  “This has nothing to do with my dislike of mounts,” Hadjar said. “It’s just that I already have my own mount. Ouch!” He cried out in surprise more than pain.

  Azrea had bitten him as punishment for daring to call her a mount.

  Chapter 647

  D amn it!” Tom shouted as he staggered, startling his six-legged horse. Six-feet-tall and more muscular than even the most well-developed humans, the mounts still showed fear when faced with Azrea’s true form. They neighed, stomped on the ground, and snorted noisily. If not for their riders, these King stage beasts would’ve scattered at the sight of the Ancient Beast. Azrea, enjoying the reaction her presence had elicited, yawned loudly, showing off rows of long, razor-sharp fangs.

  “Is that… A kitten?” Tom asked.

  Azrea growled in a low, threatening manner and wagged her tail, hitting her sides with it.

  “Hush,” Hadjar whispered in her ear, “he doesn’t taste good.”

  Einen wasn’t surprised to see the tigress. He’d heard Hadjar’s stories about the monster invasion in Balium, so he knew that Azrea could change size as she pleased. The lack of shock on Anise and Dora’s faces led Hadjar to assume that they’d already seen animals like Azrea in the kennels of their clans.

  The queue thinned out after Azrea’s transformation. To the ordinary cultivators, the Ancient Beast was a formidable creature that should be avoided.

  “Can I pet it?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Dora held out her hand, but quickly withdrew it when Azrea roared threateningly and backed away, as if trying to hide behind her friend.

  So far, she’d only let three other people pet her: Elaine, Hadjar’s sister, Serra, his friend, and Irma, a disciple of the ‘Red Mule’ school whose death seemed to have affected Azrea greatly. Hadjar scratched the tigress behind the ear and she calmed down a little.

  Dora, Anise, and Tom joined the queue. Hadjar and Einen walked behind them.

  “Will you be able to copy the key?” Hadjar asked his friend.

  The islander was silent for a moment.

  “I don’t think the map and the key are ordinary items,” he said. “I doubt that copies of them will prove useful to us.”

  Hadjar nodded in agreement. If they could simply make copies and go straight to the Emperor’s tomb, this would be a joke, not a challenge.

  “Make one just in case,” Hadjar insisted.

  “I’ve already been thinking about doing that. It’ll take some time, though.”

  “How long?”

  Einen paused again.

  “A week... Maybe two. What about the map?”

  It was Hadjar’s turn to ponder the issue. If he had enough time and materials, he could do it in a few days. But…

  “A week and a half,” he answered.

  “A week and a half it is, then.”

  They reached the entrance. The guards, two men at the peak stage of the Spirit Knight level, lowered their heavy, Heaven level blades in front of them, forcing them to stop. It seemed like the Empire took the fortress’ defenses very seriously.

  Is this the fabled Demon Gate? Hadjar chuckled to himself.

  “Passes,” one of the guards demanded rather rudely.

  Tom was about to start an argument, but was stopped by Anise. She held out her pass and displayed her token.

  “We’re from ‘The Holy Sky’ School,” she said calmly.

  The guard bowed low, which made his Imperial level armor creak slightly.

  “My apologies, honored disciples, but the General has given us strict orders to search everyone who goes into the Wastelands. May I check your tokens?”

  “What the-”

  Anise interrupted her brother again.

  “Of course,” she said.

  The guard, holding a crystal tablet covered in runes and hieroglyphs, held out his hand toward her.

  “If you touch my sister, you bastard,” Tom hissed, “I’ll send you to your forefathers.”

  The outstretched hand trembled. The guard realized that he wasn’t just being threatened by an elite disciple, but by a member of the Predatory Blades clan as well. Not wishing to annoy them any more than was necessary, he finished examining them in less than fifteen minutes, which still seemed too long, judging by the grumblings that were coming from the queue behind them. Hadjar didn’t understand what the guards were doing. They simply moved everyone’s tokens and passes over the tablet and then let people through the gates. Hadjar was checked the fastest and most carelessly.

  As he was passing through the archway, he heard a sharp cry behind him. Turning, he saw a flash of light come from the tablet held by the guard. He’d been inspecting a cultivator who wore the token of ‘The Holy Sky’ School on his chest. Instantly shrouded in fetters made of turquoise light, the imposter fell, and was quickly surrounded by guards.

  “Take him to the commander,” the guard ordered. “Damn it! He’s the twentieth one today.”

  Due to the Emperor’s recent orders, only disciples from ‘The Holy Sky’ School could enter the Wastelands in the near future. Looking to make a quick coin at the expense of naïve adventures, scammers had flooded the black market with fake tokens of ‘The Holy Sky’ School.

  Shaking his head, Hadjar kept walking. What lay beyond the gates justified the name the area had been given. The ground was bone dry and riddled with cracks and withered vegetation. They were on a dilapidated stone road, staring at the ruins in the distance.

  “We’re going northeast,” Tom said, mounting his horse and steering it forward.

  Einen glanced at Hadjar. While climbing up on Azrea’s back, he responded with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

  “Why there?” Dora asked.

  “That’s where most of the tombs are,” Tom explained. “They were looted a long time ago, of course, but we might find some clues there... It’s not the map and the key, that’s for sure, but it’s better than nothing...”

  Hadjar closed his eyes and recalled the map. It hadn’t indicated the exact location of the entrance, but it had noted some landmarks. The first of them, a structure that looked like a falcon’s head, was located to the northeast.

  They set out without any further delay and in silence. When the first stars appeared, they decided to make a quick stop to check if anyone was following them.

  Leaning against the sleeping Azrea, Hadjar sank into deep meditation. Before he even realized what was happening, he found himself in the vast valley inside his soul.

  A moment
later, he was in a dark room. Dim torchlight illuminated something made from stone. Looking closer, Hadjar saw a sarcophagus wrapped in chains inscribed with luminous runes and magic sigils.

  “What is this?”

  “That’s my disciple’s crypt,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Hadjar turned around and saw the raven. It seemed to be standing in the air. “Hello again, my descendant.”

  Surprisingly, the Enemy’s voice didn’t sound hostile, but… sad.

  Chapter 648

  T he darkness gradually turned into a hazy twilight full of shadows, which, like prisoners trying to get out of their cells, rioted on the distant granite walls and ceiling, reaching for the sarcophagus but never quite managing to touch it. It was as if something was keeping them at bay. The raven watched him from the gloom — a black blur against the gray of the granite.

  “Your disciple?” Hadjar asked, struggling to imagine the creature who had tried so hard to kill him training a disciple.

  “His name was Erhard.” The raven flapped its wings.

  The blur began to transform. It stretched out and thickened until it took on the hazy outline of a human. The inky shadow approached the sarcophagus. Extending its hand, it brushed it over the coffin.

  “That’s so sweet.” Hadjar looked around. He didn’t understand if his surroundings were an illusion or not. Not knowing where he was made him nervous. “Can we go back now?”

  The Enemy turned to him.

  “Don’t be afraid, descendant.” He chuckled. “I propose a truce: I won’t destroy your soul today, and you’ll listen to a story of mine.”

  Hadjar crossed his arms over his chest. According to Hera, the Black General would have no power over his mind and soul for the next seven years. What she hadn’t warned him about, however, was that he’d be thrown into a strange whirlpool of darkness the moment he set foot in his soul.

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Why not?” The shadow waved its hand and a long crack appeared in the opposite wall. Through it, Hadjar saw a vast valley covered with green grass. “You may go if you so please, my descendant.”