Lin Jun was truly dumbfounded right now.
No matter how he looked at it, the dragonkin before him had to be that ancient dragon's daughter, right?
That's right, daughter. Lin Jun had just examined her thoroughly.
The dragonkin's body was covered in thick, massive scales, and her facial features appeared androgynous—he really hadn't been able to tell her gender before.
But these were all trivial details.
The real problem now was that the fusion parasitism couldn't be undone...
Her current state was similar to Dylan's—parasitized, but still one step away from becoming a complete puppet.
He wondered if sending her back through another rift would still be in time?
"I've only half-parasitized your spawn and now I'm sending her back to you!"
Haha... Lin Jun could already imagine his true body being torn into four pieces by dragon claws, then separately burned, frozen, smashed, and melted.
Speaking of which, where was the dragon's main body?
The deep zones?
Probably not. Although there wasn't corresponding intelligence, the demonic creatures emerging from the rifts were vastly different from the types found in the Amethyst Dungeon.
It was likely some other demonic creature gathering place, or even another dungeon entirely?
He'd ask Dylan about it later.
If it was another dungeon, he wondered whether that ancient dragon had any way to get out?
Earlier, although the electrical arc that appeared in the dungeon had repelled the dragon claw, the ancient dragon had only suffered minor injuries and didn't seem to be going all out.
If it really had a way to break through the dungeon's rules, then even hiding on the fifth floor might not be safe.
Regardless, being targeted by an ancient dragon was absolutely terrifying.
Fortunately, things hadn't reached an irreversible point yet.
Right now it was just parasitism—she hadn't been turned into a puppet yet!
Moreover, the ancient dragon probably didn't know the specific situation of its spawn yet.
There was still room for redemption!
There still was... right?
---
"Uwah... how tragic..."
Dylan, who had just returned to Mute Wind Town, was somewhat frightened by the scene before him.
Charred beams and broken walls pressed against each other, fractured support columns slanted into neighboring rooftops.
Once-bustling streets had become continuous rubble belts, and even the Adventurers' Guild hall built from granite now had only a few pillars jutting awkwardly toward the sky.
More than half the small town had been destroyed.
Walking through the streets, his boots felt an uncomfortable stickiness underfoot. The ground was covered with congealed blood—impossible to tell whether it came from monsters or humans.
Corpses were visible everywhere, along with people processing the remains.
After the demonic tide crisis, the United Kingdom and the Adventurers' Guild had jointly issued reconstruction missions.
Most of the people here had come after accepting those tasks.
In the town center, a massive three-headed serpent corpse that had lost its head lay sprawling across the road.
Around the snake's corpse was a ring of venom that no one on site dared to handle.
Supposedly, the president of the Relic Association had arrived early alone.
He had killed most of the demonic creatures that had already broken into the town and were causing widespread destruction, preventing the disaster from expanding further.
But even so, quite a few townspeople had still died or been injured, and the adventurers had suffered even worse.
Reportedly, less than one-fifth of the adventurers who had accepted gate-keeping missions survived.
Thank goodness he had followed the boss's orders and hadn't stayed here, instead running off to other places to carry out missions investigating the duke's daughter's situation.
Otherwise, with his meager strength, he'd probably be among the casualties too.
It was foreseeable that even after Mute Wind Town was rebuilt, it would be countless times more desolate than before.
Continuing forward, a relatively intact building appeared before Dylan, making him marvel in amazement.
"The Rotten Willow Tavern actually survived!"
Although it wasn't completely unscathed—one wall of the tavern had collapsed and there were obvious burn marks around it.
But compared to the neighboring ruins, this was practically miraculous!
Dylan entered the tavern, originally intending to check the internal damage, but unexpectedly found someone already there.
"Cole! You actually ran back this quickly?"
The tavern owner looked up and glanced at the newcomer. Seeing it was Dylan, he snorted disdainfully and continued burying his head in repairing a broken-legged chair in his hands.
"Don't tell me you never ran at all?"
Only then did Cole reply: "At my age, what's the point of running? If the tavern was gone, might as well just kill me instead."
Dylan admiringly gave him a thumbs up. What a ruthless guy.
His luck was also heaven-defying to survive all this.
"But with the town in this state, how much business can you still have?"
Cole acted unconcerned, rubbing his wine-reddened nose:
"As long as the Amethyst Dungeon still exists, this place will return to normal sooner or later."
"So can we enter the dungeon now?"
"What are you thinking? Of course not. The announcement already said the dungeon will continue to be sealed for another half month."
Dylan clicked his tongue. So he'd have to stay on the surface for another half month?
Everything else was fine, but the key issue was money—he didn't have enough.
This time coming out, he'd brought exactly five gold coins, but who would have thought he'd stay outside for so long?
Drinking mana potions every day, his money was almost gone.
He missed the mushroom coffin planks of the dungeon...
Dylan came to the counter and helped himself to a wooden cup, scooping out some wine from the barrel below the bar.
"Isn't there any way to make money around here now?"
"Make money? Aren't all those guys outside doing exactly that?"
"Ah—" The inferior wine slid down his throat, and the over-fermented sourness made the hair on the back of his neck stand up comfortably. "Cole, you know that's not the kind of work I'm talking about."
Cole stopped his woodworking and turned to look Dylan up and down.
"What? Short on cash?"
Dylan nodded: "Tight on funds, urgently needed."
"Well then..." Cole looked up and around. Besides them, no one else had entered the tavern. "There really is something you could help me with."
The wooden trapdoor made a sour creaking sound as Dylan followed Cole down into the wine cellar.
The two came to stand before a large wine barrel.
"Help me transport these to Fishing Sail Harbor. I'll give you three gold coins as a deposit, and the contact person will give you seven more when it's done. How about it?"
As he spoke, Cole lifted the barrel lid, revealing it was completely filled with monster materials and weapon equipment, most still stained with dark red bloodstains.
The collection of these items together created such a foul smell that Dylan leaned back slightly: "Old man, you're even making money off dead people?"
Obviously these were all stripped from dead monsters and adventurers—definitely against regulations.
"Just tell me whether you'll do it or not!"
"I'll do it, why wouldn't I do it!"
If he didn't make money soon, he might die from mana depletion.
"But with so much stuff, I can't carry it all out by myself. You're not going to arrange a wagon for me to take the main road, are you?"
Cole resealed the wine barrel.
"Of course not taking the main road. Come back tonight—four people, one bag each, going through the western forest."
"Wouldn't there still be a chance of encountering leftover monsters?"
"Otherwise why do you think I'm giving you 10 gold coins? Am I running a charity?"
Dylan nodded. The tavern owner made a good point.
Dylan left the Rotten Willow Tavern with three more gold coins in his pocket. He needed to buy a bottle of mana potion for the road first.
What Dylan didn't know was that mixed in with the loot Cole had shown him was a human-skin book emanating weak magical fluctuations.
---
Careful readers have surely noticed long ago that the two storylines aren't synchronized. For narrative purposes, the surface timeline is slightly behind, but they'll sync up later.
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