Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 177: Buying units

Gold Dragons are a race that absolutely loves to travel.

Which also means—they’re restless, always on the move, and can’t sit still for long.

So trying to keep a Gold Dragon like Auremax cooped up in the Emerald Castle with nothing to do? Yeah, not happening. Totally unrealistic.

That’s why Ethan quietly gave him a mission.

He sent him to keep an eye on the Kingdom of the Night Elves up in the northwest—

to dig into what they’re really up to,

and maybe get a sense of what cards they’re holding...

Truth be told, Ethan still hadn’t let go of what happened with that 12th-tier War Unicorn dwelling—Upgrade: Unicorn Glade. The Night Elves had snatched it right out from under them.

Sure, stealing something like that is easy enough if you’ve got the muscle. Just roll up with your crew, flex a little power, and boom—it’s yours.

But once you pull a stunt like that, you’re not just taking territory. You’re starting a feud.

And that feud? Far from over.

The problem was, Ethan didn’t have the strength to retaliate—

not yet, anyway.

Emerald Castle just wasn’t on the same level as the Kingdom of the Night Elves. Not in terms of raw power.

And when it came to priorities, this whole Unicorn Glade mess didn’t rank nearly as high as the naval expansion plans or preparing for the looming threat of the Dungeon armies. So even though it felt like a juicy piece of meat had been ripped right out of his mouth, Ethan had swallowed it.

Acted like nothing had happened.

But now? The more he backed off, the more the Night Elves pushed forward.

It was starting to look like he’d been a little too patient.

Ethan’s eyes glinted with a cold, steely light as he stared at Gold Dragon Auremax, waiting for his report.

"The Night Elves seem to be testing us," Auremax said, frowning slightly. "They’ve started taking over some of the resource points near the border—gold mines, creature dwellings... bit by bit, they’re moving in."

"Taking over?" Ethan’s expression darkened immediately. His face tightened, jaw clenched.

"What else?" he asked, voice low but sharp.

"There’s more..." Auremax’s brow furrowed deeper. "I’ve spotted some 11th-tier Chimeras flying around our territory. They’re not attacking, just... circling. I’d bet they’re gathering intel."

"ROAR!"

BOOM!

Seraphina let out a thunderous roar, her fury erupting like a volcano. She spun around, eyes blazing. "Master, let me handle it. I’ll tear those bastards apart!"

Everyone knew Seraphina didn’t exactly have a calm temperament. In fact, she was downright volatile.

Then again, dragons aren’t exactly known for their chill.

And now, hearing that someone dared to mess with Emerald Castle? That someone had the audacity to make a move on their turf?

Yeah—Seraphina lost it.

Her dragon eyes narrowed into vertical slits—

a sign only seen when a dragon is truly enraged.

And in those slitted pupils, a deadly chill radiated outward. The sheer pressure of her fury filled the room like a storm about to break.

The air turned ice-cold.

Everyone instinctively sucked in a breath, faces paling, skin crawling with goosebumps.

"This one’s seriously pissed..." Cicero muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the barely-contained fury radiating off Seraphina. His expression was grim.

The moment those words left his mouth, a ripple of unease swept through the room. People stiffened, tension rising. After all, when a Crimson Ultimate Hero loses their temper, it’s never just a minor incident.

"Seraphina, let Auremax finish," Ethan said calmly, his voice light and composed, like a breeze brushing over still water.

That calmness—so detached, so cold—made Seraphina freeze mid-snarl.

Then, without another word, she shut her mouth.

Because she knew—Ethan was angry too.

And when Ethan got angry... it was a whole different level of terrifying.

Worse than her own rage.

Way worse.

Just the thought of it made Seraphina’s expression turn glacial. Her eyes flickered with a deadly, bone-chilling light, the kind of look that promised blood.

To her, Ethan wasn’t just a leader—he was everything.

Her sky. Her earth. Her faith. Her honor.

And now he was angry.

That tore at her heart.

So this insult, this provocation from the Night Elves—it had to be answered in blood.

Only their deaths could make this right.

Only their screams could bring balance.

"Balthazar," Ethan said suddenly, turning his gaze toward the towering figure nearby. "There’s something I want to ask you."

"Yes, my lord. Ask away," Balthazar replied immediately, sharp enough to read the room. He could feel the storm brewing and wasn’t about to get caught off guard.

"What do you know about the Kingdom of the Night Elves?" Ethan asked.

"The Kingdom of the Night Elves?" Balthazar echoed, thinking for a moment before answering. "They’ve got close to eighty 13th-tier Legendary Units. Two orange-tier Legendary Heroes, four purple-tier Epic Heroes, and several hundred Royal Units at the 11th and 12th tiers."

He paused, then added, "As for those two orange-tier Legendary Heroes—one of them is King Vaelion himself. The other’s a Chimera, a hero from the Chimera race. Name’s Barak. He’s 11th-tier."

"And how strong are they?" Ethan asked, his tone still calm, but with an edge that cut through the air.

"Eh... they’re decent," Balthazar said slowly. "Vaelion’s undergone a second awakening. In a one-on-one, Seraphina probably wouldn’t be able to take him. But if she and I teamed up, we could hold him off—barely."

"As for Barak, the Chimera? He hasn’t awakened a second time yet. He’s no match for Seraphina."

"Second Awakening..."

At those words, Ethan fell silent.

His brows furrowed slightly, a trace of tension creeping into his expression.

Second Awakening—right now, that phrase was a massive source of pressure for Emerald Castle.

Why?

Simple.

Because neither Cicero nor Seraphina stood a chance against a hero who had undergone a Second Awakening and commanded evolved unit types.

In theory, unless they reached level 40...

Only Crimson-ranked Ultimate heroes above level 40 could barely hold their own against the weakest of Second Awakening unit heroes.

But the problem was—Seraphina was only level 30.

And Cicero? Barely in his twenties.

They didn’t stand a chance.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

The real nightmare?

An orange-tier Legendary hero, commanding nearly eighty Legendary Units, plus hundreds of Tier 11 and Tier 12 Royal Units.

Worse still—an orange-tier Legendary hero who had undergone Second Awakening, leading nearly eighty Tier 13 Legendary Units, and still backed by hundreds of Tier 11 and Tier 12 Royal Units.

That was the truly terrifying part.

Just imagining that kind of force was enough to make your scalp tingle.

Going up against it? Practically suicide.

"Looks like we’ll need a strategy..." Ethan muttered under his breath.

He’d originally planned to let things cool down a bit, maybe hold back for a while.

But now? With old grudges and new threats piling up?

Hold back?

Heh. Not a chance.

Now it was all about figuring out how to strike—and strike hard. How to make those greedy bastards who thought they could take advantage of the chaos pay for it. Make them afraid.

Just then, a thought sparked in Ethan’s mind. His eyes lit up.

"Balthazar," he asked suddenly, "how many types of Tier 13 Legendary Units does the Kingdom of the Night Elves have?"

"Three," Balthazar answered without hesitation. "Vaelion commands three types of Tier 13 Legendary Units—Tier 13 Elder Chimeras, Tier 13 Green Dragons, and Tier 13 Emerald Dragons."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "And how did he get those?"

"Don’t tell me... he has three separate Legendary Unit Creature Dwellings under his control?"

His brow tightened, gaze sharp.

Three Legendary Unit Dwellings? That was insane.

Even someone like him—blessed by fate—had only managed to get that far.

Was Vaelion, the Night Elf King, seriously that lucky? Luck on par with his own?

That... seemed unlikely.

"Nope, he bought them," Balthazar said, shaking his head.

"Bought them?" Ethan blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at Balthazar in disbelief. "Wait, what? You can buy Legendary Units? Where the hell did he buy them from?"

"Yeah, he definitely bought them. And if I had to guess, it was probably from AvLee, out west," Balthazar replied, his eyes glinting. "West of Sylvanwood is the main empire backed by the Forest faction in the overworld—AvLee."

"In AvLee, the elves are one of the dominant races. In terms of status, power, and influence, they’re top-tier. Honestly, aside from the dragons, there aren’t many Forest-aligned races that can match them. And this Night Elf king, Vaelion? He used to be part of the Elven Royal Court."

"The Elven Royal Court?" Ethan echoed, stunned. "You mean the one that only accepts elves with royal bloodlines?"

He knew about the Elven Royal Court—it was basically the highest governing council among the elves.

And elves weren’t just one race—they were a massive group with tons of subraces within the Forest faction: Sylvan Elves, Hill Elves, Night Elves, Dragonblood Elves, Runeborn Elves, Bladedancer Elves... the list went on.

To even qualify for the Elven Royal Court, you had to be of royal blood from one of those subraces.

In other words, if the elves were a massive society, then Vaelion had once been one of the elite—someone at the very top of the food chain.

Which meant... this guy wasn’t just some random Night Elf with a lucky streak. He had serious connections.

And if that was the case, it wasn’t all that surprising he could pull some strings in AvLee and buy a few Legendary Units. After all, while you could technically "buy" Legendary Units, you could never buy their soul-binding loyalty.

Take Ethan himself, for example.

If he were the seller or lender of Legendary Units in AvLee, then the top ten player guilds—or someone like General Grant—would be in the same position as Vaelion right now.

Buying units?

Sure, no problem.

But "buying" was really just temporary command rights. The units might follow your orders, but they’d never truly be loyal.

To them, it was just a job.

Their soul contracts—the real bond—still belonged to the seller.

And soul contracts? They meant everything.

No exaggeration—if the seller gave the word, those "sold" units would immediately abandon the buyer, return to their true master, and fight to the death for them.

Hell, they might even turn around and attack the buyer.

Which made it a seriously risky deal for the buyer.

You could lose your money and your army in one shot.

And even if, by some miracle, you got a seller with actual integrity—someone who wouldn’t pull shady crap—the fact remained: units die in battle.