Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1438 Do you know where to go?
From its horrifying body to its ferocious claws, from its hollow bone wings to its sharp dragon tail, Nidhogg's dragon skeleton completed its awakening process in less than a few seconds. As this ancient corpse, devoid of life and soul, fueled only by its burning instincts, rose from the ground and took its first steps, the entire Forbidden Land and even the entire Abyss trembled and groaned, as if about to shatter. Far away, in the village inhabited by the Mushroom Tribe, the Gray Fungus elder, who had been silently waiting since the travelers departed, looked up in astonishment, gazing in the direction of his dream, only to see a terrifying dragon, reduced to a skeleton, standing menacingly in the depths of darkness.

As it raised its head, its gaze seemingly piercing through layers of rock to reveal the earth's surface, a pair of spiraling horns simultaneously rose, like the sharpest swords in the world, piercing deeply into the rock layers composed of deep soil and ancient minerals—layers once considered unbreakable by the inhabitants of the abyss. The dragon merely shook its head casually, and with the churning of its horns, countless massive rocks succumbed to the pressure, peeling away and scattering, unleashing a spectacular meteor shower from the sky. These rocks, frozen for countless years and honed by long, solitary hardship, had long been assimilated by darkness, their surfaces covered in black moss, obscuring the brilliance of their crystals. As they passed through the empty dragon skeleton and landed on the corpse-strewn ground, emitting a muffled groan, the scene evoked the image of a dying black dragon, too old to bear the weight of time, destined to perish here, its scales falling away, leaving only a resentful skeleton.

Leticia stared in disbelief at the scene, even forgetting to dodge the rain of meteors falling from the sky. It was Countess Neville who acted decisively, leaping out the moment the dragon skeleton awoke, carrying her granddaughter under her arm, and quickly flying back to Nibelungen, thus preventing her from being harmed in this earth-shattering disaster.

But to the skeletal remains of the evil dragon, these tiny creatures residing within its heart were more like reptiles—neither a threat nor worthy of a second glance. His gaze remained fixed on the dark, rocky dome above, which had oppressed him for countless years. Beyond that dome, countless yearnings were calling out—the very things he had struggled with for millennia in a daze, things he refused to die completely, things he would rather become a puppet of resentment and rage to return and continue pursuing.

Find him, defeat him, and then... take it away!
A voice called from the depths of the universe, and the dragon's remains heeded its guidance. Or perhaps it was its own voice, but now unable to speak or unleash its intimidating roar, it conveyed itself in another form. It ignored the falling meteor shower, the few small reptiles with ulterior motives within its heart, and the countless eyes gathered in the abyss—ancient beings, powerful lineages, and even ferocious beasts that had ruled the dark world for countless years, their will unchallenged. Yet now, faced with this imminent catastrophe, they dared only watch from afar, unwilling even to investigate themselves.

Because they are all ordinary people, mundane and mediocre, and nothing but troubles for themselves.

The undead knew nothing of mockery, but contempt for the mediocre seemed etched into the very marrow of this dragon. Thus, even in death, it exuded an air of arrogance and disdain. It continued to raise its head, proudly and arrogantly, until no one could force it to bow its head again. Its ferocious head scraped against the rocky dome, its sharp horns tearing through the dense veins of minerals. Everything crumbled, utterly vulnerable. Soon, a massive breach was carved into the ancient barrier that had protected the underworld, but the dragon's remains seemed unsatisfied, slowly extending its claws upwards.

It gripped the rock strata as if gripping an enemy's neck, tore through the earth and rocks as if ripping open an enemy's chest, then flapped its chilling bony wings behind it, stirring up a raging wind in the underground world, lifting its massive body upwards as if pressing its entire weight onto the enemy. The scene was savage yet awe-inspiring. Though the dragon's skeleton was below and the rocky dome above, it was merely climbing upwards, yearning to escape; from the observer's perspective, it appeared more as if the dragon's skeleton was above and the rocky dome below, its feet firmly planted on the earth, about to crush it. If any dragon who had witnessed the battle for the Dragon King at least three thousand years ago were here, it would surely gasp in astonishment, for this was a tactic Nidhogg often used. Possessing a terrifying size far exceeding that of ordinary dragons, it preferred to use its weight as an invincible weapon in battle. Naturally, the feeling of trampling on others and looking down from a superior position gave it immense pleasure.

In the past, countless ferocious beasts and powerful clansmen have fallen to this move. Time has passed, but the instincts of fighting and hunting are still etched into this skeleton. It regards the rocky dome overhead as an enemy that hinders its great achievements, so naturally it will use its most ferocious and ruthless methods to deal with it. Even though the resurrected spirit does not know that it and the other are both without consciousness, and it is just two objects without self-awareness fighting each other, so perhaps it can be described as... a natural disaster.

For the creatures at the bottom of the abyss, the word "natural disaster" was truly fitting. What could be more terrifying than watching the "sky" that sheltered them crumble and collapse? What could be more unbelievable than seeing skeletons that should have died alive venting their rage on the earth? With every inch the sky sank downward, the dragon skeletons climbed upward an inch. In that instant, the forbidden land was utterly destroyed, all traces of the former mushroom-man tribe vanished, and the disaster continued to spread, forcing countless creatures to flee in agony, only to be drowned within it, drowned in an incomprehensible obsession.

“Truly… incomprehensible…” Countess Neville, standing on the deck of the Nibelungen, having witnessed firsthand the dragon skeletons carving through the earth and climbing the rocky dome, uttered a complex sigh. This scene reminded her of the legend of the Feather Mine and the Assyrian Holy War. It was said that the rebels of that time climbed from the bottom of the ninety-nine-layer abyss, enduring bloodshed and sacrifice, until they finally saw the light above ground; yet now, the legend was being reenacted by a beast that had risen from the dead. Could its ignorant mind possibly hold any profound ideals? Of course, its emergence from the earth was nothing more than a means to bring new disasters and create new suffering.

However much it resisted, the dragon's determination to break free of its cage remained unshaken. With the tearing of its claws and the pounding of its horns, the breach in the rocky dome grew ever wider. Rock, sand, mineral veins… everything that made up the dome, now seemed to have lost its support, transforming into a hazy, yellowish torrent that poured in through the crack. The scene was like an hourglass filled with sand suddenly breaking, the sandfall roaring and pouring into the space below, its force immense enough to engulf everything. Most of the cascading earth and rocks struck the dragon's massive skeleton, but were deflected or absorbed by its indestructible structure, as if it were merely draping the pale, colossal skeleton in a temporary layer of armor.

And with it came light.

Directly above the Forbidden Land lies the Abyss of Dark Clouds, or rather, it was the fall of the Nibelungen that created that terrifying abyss on the surface, considered a lair of demons. For a long time, it has been feared for its endless darkness and life-corroding poisonous mist. However, such darkness pales in comparison to the darkness of the world beneath the abyss. For it is ultimately on the surface, separated from the abyss's depths by a distinct chasm. Now, this chasm has been shattered by a powerful external force. Light, too dim for the Abyss of Dark Clouds and too blinding for its depths, eagerly pours down along the torn fissure. It is extremely aggressive, poised to invade this dark world and purify its filthy and unclean inhabitants.

And so, the moss growing in the darkness withered swiftly, the crystals clinging to the abyss evaporated in the light, and the corpses of countless insects turned to ashes in an instant. Even the pale skeleton of the dragon seemed to be immersed in boiling water, hissing and emitting smoke the moment it came into contact with the surface light, accompanied by a chilling wail. At the same moment, in countless corners of the earth, countless monsters accustomed to the darkness of the underground world roared in anguish as they witnessed this scene, their eyes stinging with blood and tears. Countless alien races that had built their civilizations in the underground world howled and hid in caves or grottoes, their fear of the humans above reaching its peak, for they could not imagine that anyone could survive in the light, unfazed by its blinding brilliance and scorching heat. Only the dragon ignored all of this, stubbornly climbing upwards, destroying rocks, shattering the earth, and carving a massive gap in the deep, boundless abyss of dark clouds. If viewed from the sky at this moment, one would surely see a silent collapse erupting from the center of the Dark Cloud Abyss. First, fine cracks spread like a spiderweb, then large chunks of rock collapsed inward, drawing in the oppressive poisonous mist that blotted out the sun, forming an ever-expanding vortex. From the center of that vortex, a massive, gleaming, white claw suddenly pierced out, gripping the edge of the earth. The claw's tip plowed deep into the blackened soil, stained by the poisonous mist, leaving five jagged furrows.

Then comes the dragon's head.

The empty eye sockets were the first to "see" the sky—not the eternal darkness of the abyss's memories, but a murky, oppressive, yet infinitely vast, eerie green dome. Sparse light pierced through the perpetually lingering poisonous fog, like countless red-hot needles pricking the surface of the pale bones, stirring up even denser, hissing white smoke. The dragon skeleton showed no reaction; it simply stubbornly dragged its massive body inch by inch from the hole it had torn open. Rocks shattered beneath it, and the earth groaned under its weight.

When most of its body finally broke free from the shackles of the abyss and stood tall on the desolate and dangerous land of the Dark Cloud Abyss, it seemed to be announcing to the world: the beast of death has returned.

As if to regain the feeling of "being alive," the dragon took a deep breath the moment it broke free of its restraints. This breath seemed to engulf the air within a thousand miles, creating visible, vast ripples. But it had no flesh and blood, nor vocal cords, so even its breathing produced only a hoarse, terrifying "hoarse" sound. The inhaled air dispersed from the gaps in its dark skeleton, settling downwards with a corrosive mist, eagerly escaping an indescribable constraint.

It simply stood there, obscuring the other side of the snowfield, leaving only pitch-black shadows, while all other light was swallowed by an invisible black hole. If Nidhogg's teacher were here, witnessing this scene, he would surely be astonished by his own foresight, having already predicted that he would grow into the most terrifying monster in the history of dragons. This size, obscuring the abyss, would probably even be unmatched by the original infinite dragon god, Bahamut. But after the astonishment, should his emotion be relief or sorrow? It is all an unanswerable mystery.

The awakened azure dragon showed no desire or inclination to attack; it simply stood there silently, slowly turning its head with long-forgotten, stiff movements to survey its surroundings. This caused the Nibelungen embedded in its chest to move as well, causing the ship's interior to shake violently. Ling had to huddle close to the corner, holding Ovira tightly in his arms to prevent the girl from hitting the floor or walls.

The dragon skeleton paid no heed to the few tiny reptiles clinging to its body. The howling storm and surging poisonous fog held no sway over it. With a casual flick of its sharp tail, like a giant's spear sweeping across, it dispelled the lingering vortex above, reducing the heavy meteor shower to ashes. It stared intently, almost lost in thought, at the earth beneath its feet, frantically searching for familiar sights with its remaining instincts, but to no avail. Time had passed, the world had changed; everything was so unfamiliar, not even a single snowflake identical to those of thousands of years ago.

What is predetermined is beyond human control, so the next moment, the resurrected dragon slowly turned its head and looked at the distant horizon. The fog and sand stretched endlessly in the direction of the wind and sand. A desolate and lifeless world, a wish that had never been understood. For Nidhogg, among all the unfamiliar things, only this place retained a trace of familiarity.

Because that is Mount Platinum, the last refuge of the dragon after it lost its status as the overlord of the continent.

Ah, the snow on Baijin Mountain, every flake reflects a sacred light, frozen in spring, solidified in summer, sealed in autumn, and engraved in winter. It is the most profound, the most persistent... yet also the most detested kind of light in his life.

He knew where he should go.

Give me some cats