Chapter 758: Chapter 422: The Power of the Dragon Remains

The downpour had just ceased.

The clouds had torn open a slit, through which cold daylight poured down, illuminating the broken walls of Grey Rock Castle.

Rainwater trickled continuously through the cracked stone, mingling with dark red liquid, forming tiny streams in front of the city gate.

The steam tanks of the Red Tide Legion roared as they drove into the gate.

The heavy steel armor crushed the ground, and the sound of the treads turning was an unsettling mushy squeezing, as if the wheels were driving through an unfrozen mire.

The streets, towers, and squares were all deathly silent.

There were no living people here anymore.

In the center of the square, the ground had completely lost its original color.

There were no intact bodies to be found, not even complete skeletons.

Dark red flesh pulp, half a foot thick, covered the entire area, and as the rain fell on it, it roiled slowly, still steaming continuously.

Traces of explosions were evident everywhere.

Every wall was repainted with blood rain, crimson flowing down the stone patterns like an undried mural.

Every breath inhaled into the lungs carried a nauseating sweet stickiness.

The inner walls of the gate were densely pocked with impact dents, the stone surface blackened, leaving behind traces of high-temperature scorching.

Louis sat in the command vehicle, observing it all through the window.

Weir stood half a step behind him, his gaze also falling on the repeatedly trampled square inside the city.

Even for someone who had followed Louis for many years, such a scene was rare to witness.

"They sealed the door." Weir spoke with a discernible chill, "They intended to block us out, but in the end, they blocked their own escape."

Louis did not respond immediately.

When the artillery fell and the Dragon Blood lost complete control, the end was already determined.

All the forcibly stacked forces completed a chain reaction in the confined space. There was no escape route, nor any chance of luck.

He did not feel elated about it all.

"The people inside went insane, leaving themselves no way out." Louis finally spoke. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

The cleansing operation began simultaneously.

The knights of the Red Tide advanced in several ranks, deploying shoulder-mounted flamethrowers and high-pressure water guns simultaneously.

Fiery tongues swept the ground, incinerating the uncoagulated flesh completely, followed by high-pressure water streams flushing the remaining filth into the gutters.

Inside the command vehicle, Louis remained seated, watching through the glass as tanks and soldiers steadily advanced through the city.

This was not a picture worth celebrating.

This was a Hell crafted by the Remont Clan, and also the finale ignited by his own hands.

.....

The steam tank stopped in the castle courtyard, with the engine’s residual heat yet to dissipate, the blood slurry beneath the treads was continuously compressed, slowly flowing back into depressions.

Louis opened the car door and got out.

Only a few people followed behind him.

Weir walked on the left, his hand never leaving the sword hilt.

Sacco and a few other personal guards spread out, forming the most basic guard formation.

As they stepped on the ground, the soles of their boots sank into the layer of still-warm viscous matter, making a faint yet clear sound.

The air still carried a pungent smell, the scent of blood mingling with burnt, instinctively tightening the throat.

Louis did not halt, heading straight towards the shadows of the castle’s main building.

The entrance to the underground was hidden behind a collapsed arch.

Stone steps extended downward, with each step resulting in a drop in the surrounding temperature.

The surface heat and moist air were left behind, replaced by a bone-chilling cold seeping into the marrow.

The torches along the walls had long extinguished, leaving only a few flickering alchemy lamps, their light dim and unstable.

The deeper they went, the more apparent the intangible pressure became.

It was not from sight but from deep within the body.

The heartbeat slowed unconsciously, the flow of Fighting Energy became sluggish, as if the entire passage itself repelled the existence of living beings.

Weir’s brows gradually furrowed; he could feel that some extraordinary power had long existed here, its traces not yet completely dispersed.

He subconsciously slowed down and spoke in a low voice, "This smell... it’s not just blood."

Sacco, slightly behind, glanced at the unnatural marks on the walls and floor, lowering his voice further, "It’s alchemy mixed with blood."

He paused, then added, "If the monsters in the city came from here, it makes sense."

The passage continued downward, the pressure intensifying.

Louis did not respond, continuing his descent.

At the bottom of the stone steps was a heavy iron door violently torn open, the door hinge twisted, edges lined with outward curling fractures, as if forcibly broken from within.

Sacco glanced at the door, his breath visibly pausing, "To tear open such a door from inside... it must be the power of an Extraordinary Knight."

Louis stopped, took a look inside, and then stepped in.

The underground space was broader than imagined.

The dome soared high, with support structures exposed, massive metal beams spanning between.

The alchemical equipment that should have been neatly arranged was toppled and shattered on the floor, glass containers broken, the remnants of reagents drying into varying depths of stains on the ground.

The air was filled with an ancient, cold scent, like long-congealed blood.

In the center lay a dried up blood pool.