After Becoming an Evil Dragon, I Was Entangled by the Saintess - Chapter 23

In the dimly lit tunnel, candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows. A moment of silence followed Flah’s words, broken only by Veranse’s soft, melodious voice.

“As you wish.”

Yulxi glanced at Veranse, his expression unreadable.

As if she’s the one preparing the meal, and the rest of us are just sitting here obediently waiting to be fed.

The rhythmic tap-tap of footsteps echoed as they finally reached the end of the tunnel. Two drowsy guards stood watch below, seemingly undisturbed by the sounds of battle outside—perhaps they trusted in the mage’s abilities. In the remote Red Maple Territory, a Fourth-Tier Mage could rule like a king.

As a surface Elf, Flah lacked the unparalleled stealth of her dark-skinned Underdark relatives. Fortunately, the guards were lax in their vigilance. With a swift stroke of her curved blade, she severed their heads, the severed heads falling with a wet thud.

“May the Lord God cleanse your sinful souls,” Veranse murmured as she passed the corpses, her voice gentle. Yet her eyes held no compassion, as if life itself were insignificant to her.

“I’ve heard the Holy Maiden of the Holy See weeps for the deaths of sinners,” Yulxi sneered, his gaze fixed on Veranse.

Veranse turned to meet his gaze, asking with measured calm, “Do you want to see me cry?”

Ilti stumbled ahead, her eyes darting between the strange pair with suspicion.

Flah clicked her tongue and muttered, “Perverts!”

Yulxi took a deep breath.

What utter nonsense.

She changed the subject. “The dungeon where the Elves are imprisoned is just ahead.”

Flah’s attention was immediately drawn to this. Her anger shifted toward the damned humans. She unleashed a torrent of curses, transforming her invective into a twisted art form—a stark contrast to the Elves’ traditional arts of poetry and music.

Veranse’s laughter was soft, like a gentle breeze brushing past Yulxi’s ear.

Yulxi flicked her eyelids open slightly, deciding to ignore Veranse.

The winding tunnel led to a vast, natural cavern. Though still underground, the sudden expanse of space made her feel as if she were breathing in the open air. Darkness stretched silently, punctuated by faint, stifled sobs. Flah stopped before the massive, dimly lit dungeon and lit her torch.

Her complaints vanished as she fixed her unwavering gaze on her suffering kin. The curved blade flashed like lightning toward the heavy lock on the cell door, sending sparks flying. The clang reverberated through the cavern, ringing in Flah’s ears. She frowned at the unscathed lock, gritted her teeth, and swung her blade again.

“The lock is enchanted with magic suppression,” a weak voice called from within the cell. The scum hadn’t harmed the Elves’ appearances, but they had shackled them with magic-suppressing chains. They also occasionally starved them, ensuring the weakened Elves lacked the strength to resist.

“Ilti!” Flah turned and called out to Ilti. Even knowing Yulxi and Veranse’s capabilities, her first instinct in this desperate situation was to turn to her beloved companion.

“Ooh-ooh,” Ilti responded, raising her staff and stepping forward.

With the mages and guards eliminated, the Black Prison posed no immediate danger. Yulxi paid no attention to unlocking the cells. Instead, she calmly observed the mostly empty prison, searching for traces of past occupants. The current prisoners were primarily Elves, along with Lizardfolk, Halflings, Succubi, and others—all part of this recent shipment. Yet the lingering aura in the prison suggested it had once held other beings. Where had these captors transported their prisoners from before reaching the Sain Auction House?

“Need any help?” Veranse asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Yulxi stared silently at Veranse.

Veranse couldn’t discern anything from Yulxi’s icy expression. Her brow furrowed slightly, a hint of frustration and discouragement flickering across her face, but she quickly rallied.

While Flah and Ilti busied themselves picking the locks, Veranse approached the wall. She ran her hand over the rough stone surface and began chanting an incantation.

Yulxi turned to watch her.

“There’s Illusion Magic here, concealing a passage,” Veranse explained. As the ancient words flowed from her lips, a surge of Magic Power rippled through the air. A doorway large enough for two people to pass appeared in the wall. Unlike the repaired tunnel or a naturally formed cave, this passage seemed to have been carved by some unknown race. “Perhaps it leads to the Sain Auction House?”

“How do we get them out?” Ilti asked, noting the absence of survivors. Since these were “goods” intended for the Sain Auction House, the auction house couldn’t be unaware of their existence.

“Who are you?” a raspy voice rasped. The Elves, naturally benevolent and with Flah’s presence to reassure them, reluctantly lowered their guard. But the other races were different. They bristled like hedgehogs, their spines raised in hostility toward all other living beings.

Yulxi said, “Take them all back.”

“Us?” Ilti pointed to her nose. “What about you?”

Yulxi calmly gazed down the tunnel.

“You’re going straight to the Sain Auction House? Shouldn’t we plan this more carefully?” Ilti asked, startled.

Veranse smiled. “Before Lord Yulshi’s power, those people are mere ants. What need is there for caution?”

Yulxi added, “Summon the territory’s cavalry and monitor Viscount Byron’s movements.” With that, he stepped into the tunnel, leaving Ilti and the others to handle communicating with the Elves and calming the frightened races.

Veranse watched Yulxi’s retreating figure, her eyes gleaming with fascination. Without hesitation, she followed him into the tunnel.

The tunnel was sparsely stained with bl00d, the air thick with a cloying, metallic stench in the confined spaces. It was gloomy and oppressive, radiating an ominous aura.

“This tunnel isn’t easy to navigate, but compared to the heavily guarded city gates, it’s certainly safer and more discreet, wouldn’t you agree?” Veranse said, catching up to Yulxi’s pace.

As they had suspected, the tunnel led to the Sain Auction House. Sensing the presence of living beings and fluctuations in magic power, Yulxi cast a concealment spell on herself. But she didn’t take another step, instead fixing Veranse with a steady gaze. “Don’t cause any trouble,” she warned.

“You wrong me,” Veranse protested.

Yulxi scoffed. “Fire Wall, Veil of Despair, Dark Sacrifice,” she reminded her.

Veranse fell silent, then chuckled. Her tone lost its warmth, replaced by a chilling edge more suited to the shadows. “Your perceptiveness is truly surprising. Have you been watching me all this time?”

“If you cause trouble, you’ll never set foot in Thorn Manor again,” Yulxi snapped impatiently.

The unspoken threat hung in the air: Don’t even think about getting another loaf of bread from me.

Veranse understood perfectly. She sighed dramatically. “Threatening people isn’t the way of a swordsman.”

Yulxi stared blankly. What “threat”? Is it like having a blade pressed to your throat? Her eyelid twitched, and a forced smile stretched across her lips. “My apologies. I am an Evil Dragon.”

Under Yulxi’s threat, Veranse reluctantly abandoned her original plan.

She had even wanted to treat the citizens of Klein City to a spectacle: “The Clash of Dragons and Magic.”

Alas, the Dragon disapproved.

The Sain Auction House, seeking convenience, had built the passage directly into the “warehouse.”

The guards stationed there included no mages, and they couldn’t sense the fluctuations of Magic Power.

“Stop drinking. We’ve got another shipment coming in tomorrow morning,” a dark-faced guard kicked his drinking companion.

“What could possibly go wrong?” The drunken guard stretched lazily, his gaze drifting to the other side of the warehouse.

His colleague muttered a curse under his breath. “The auction’s already started. Lord Siv is loading the cages now. Even with their magic suppressed, some of them are a handful. We need to go help.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the drunken guard nodded absently.

As Yulxi listened to the guards’ conversation, she subtly surveyed the vast warehouse.

The cages, separated by iron bars, each held a single prisoner. These were smuggled goods, never meant to be seen by the public.

Yulxi’s gaze swept over the despairing faces of Elves and Succubi before settling on a Dwarf lying peacefully in one of the cages.

Dwarves lacked magic, but their senses were exceptionally sharp. The moment Yulxi’s gaze fell upon her, the Dwarf turned her head in that direction.

“That might be Tyr Ironhammer, the one we’re looking for,” Veranse whispered in Yulxi’s ear.

Yulxi frowned, pondering how to rescue these prisoners.

Suddenly, a gruff voice boomed from ahead.

“Cargo 213! Cargo 213, hurry up!”

“You clumsy fool! You cracked the Dragon egg! Ten of your heads wouldn’t be enough to pay for that!”

“But sir, Dragon eggs aren’t that fragile…”

Yulxi’s eyes narrowed sharply.