Chương 143: The Wyrm's Grotto

Mo Jian led the way, his powerful presence parting the crowds of grim-faced demonic cultivators like a ship's prow through a dark sea. Li Yu and Elder Kaelen followed, walking the wide, obsidian streets of the Asura Demon Clan's volcanic city. The air was hot and thick with the smell of sulfur and superheated rock, a constant reminder of the river of magma that flowed in the caldera's depths, casting a fiery, dancing glow on the underside of the perpetual cloud of smoke that served as their sky.

Li Yu observed everything with a calm, analytical curiosity. This was a world built on principles entirely alien to his own. The architecture was brutal and functional, great blocks of black stone carved with sharp, aggressive lines. Yet, for all its apparent chaos and violence, there was an undercurrent of absolute, iron-clad order. It was a society forged in the crucible of a harsh environment and a harsher philosophy: strength was the only law, and the will of the Clan Lord was absolute.

Their destination was a massive, fortified tunnel carved directly into the base of the caldera's inner wall. The entrance was sealed by a gate of solid, cooled magma, twenty meters high and covered in pulsing, defensive runes. Two hulking demonic beasts, resembling giant, six-legged lizards with scales of obsidian and steam venting from their nostrils, stood guard, their yellow eyes tracking Li Yu with a predatory stillness.

"This is the entrance to the Earth-Heart Grotto," Mo Jian said, his voice echoing in the cavernous entryway.

"The Guardian's lair. Only the Clan Lord and the Elder Council are permitted entry." He placed his palm on the magma gate. A complex, blood-red crest flared to life, and with a deep, grinding groan that shook the very mountain, the massive gate began to retract upwards, revealing a vast, dark tunnel descending into the volcano's roots. The air that washed over them was different here.

The dry, sulfuric heat was replaced by a cool, damp air that smelled of wet stone, deep earth, and a faint, yet unmistakable, scent of fresh water. It was also tinged with the heavy, cloying scent of sickness and decay. They walked down the spiraling stone path, the only light coming from glowing, phosphorescent fungi, until the path opened into a cavern so immense it felt like a separate, subterranean world. The floor was dominated by a huge, placid lake of pure, clear water—the great subterranean river.

But the peace of the grotto was broken by the sight of the creature that lay coiled on the largest of the sandy shores. It was the Earth-Striding Wyrm. It was a magnificent, terrifying beast, easily over two hundred meters long, covered in heavy plates of a stone-like hide the color of dark earth. Yet, for all its immense, sleeping power, the signs of its malady were stark. Its hide was dull and brittle, its breathing shallow and ragged. Its life force was a flickering, guttering candle flame.

Mo Jian's powerful, authoritative demeanor crumbled as he looked at the beast, replaced by an expression of genuine, heartfelt pain.

"For generations, he has been our clan's staunchest ally," he said, his voice a low, grief-stricken murmur.

"To see him like this… helpless… it is a torment worse than any blade." Li Yu walked forward slowly, his steps silent on the sand. He stopped a respectful distance from the great wyrm's head, closing his eyes. He extended his senses, and his Koi spirit answered. He could feel it instantly: the faint, but pure, trace of aquatic essence deep within the wyrm's bloodline.

"I can feel the water in its veins," Li Yu said quietly, confirming Kaelen's theory.

"It is weak, but it is there. It gives me a connection, a way to communicate." He took a step closer, preparing to reach out, to gently probe the creature's soul and find the root of its sickness. It was at that exact moment that a high-pitched, piercing alarm began to shriek, not within the grotto, but echoing down the long tunnel from the city above. It was a sound of absolute crisis, a wail that signaled a full-scale invasion.

Mo Jian and Kaelen spun around, their expressions instantly shifting from grief to cold, murderous fury.

"The sect formation has been breached!" Kaelen snarled, drawing a wicked-looking, serrated blade from his back. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"To dare…" Mo Jian's voice was a low, dangerous growl, his Core Formation aura flaring to life, filling the cavern with a suffocating, bloodthirsty pressure.

"To dare attack our home… now…" The three of them raced back up the spiraling tunnel, the sounds of battle growing louder with every step. They emerged from the grotto entrance into a scene of chaotic, yet controlled, warfare. They were in a vast, central plaza, the very heart of the Asura Demon Clan's caldera city. The clan's own warriors, disciplined and fierce, had formed a defensive perimeter, their martial spirits clashing with a tide of invaders. The invaders were a horrifying sight.

They were cultivators clad in tattered, soul-grey robes, their faces gaunt and pale, as if their own life force were being constantly drained. Their weapons and techniques seemed to drink the very light from the air, each strike carrying a chilling, parasitic aura. At their head, standing in a cleared space in the center of the plaza, was a man with a cruel, gaunt face and eyes that burned with a cold, hungry light. This was Lord Malakor, the sect master of the Soul-Taker Sect.

Flanking him were two massive, terrifying beasts. One was a colossal, skeletal bear, its bones held together by a swirling vortex of malevolent, ghostly energy, its eye sockets burning with a cold, blue fire. The other was a great, undead serpent, its flesh rotted away to reveal a spine of massive, interlocking vertebrae, its long fangs dripping with a black, necrotic venom. Both beasts radiated an aura of death and decay, and both were at the 2nd level of the Core Formation realm.

"Malakor!" Mo Jian roared, his voice a thunderclap of pure hatred as he strode out into the plaza, his presence immediately becoming the new center of the battle.

"You dare trespass in my city? You have broken the ancient pacts! This is a declaration of all-out war!"

"War?" Malakor laughed, a dry, rattling sound.

"This isn't a war, Mo Jian. This is an extermination. For years, your overgrown lizard has been the only thing keeping your clan from being crushed under my heel. I have been patient. I have waited. And now, the heavens have finally rewarded me. My own two Bone Horrors, once weaker than your precious Guardian, have now surpassed it. With your protector dying and your forces in disarray, your clan is finished today." He looked past Mo Jian, his cold, dead eyes falling on Li Yu.

He saw a young, handsome disciple in the robes of a righteous sect, standing in the heart of a demonic clan's city.

"And what is this?" Malakor sneered.

"Have you grown so desperate, Mo Jian, that you are hiring righteous sect children to be your doctors? How pathetic." It was then that Mo Jian did something that shocked not only his enemies, but Li Yu himself. He took a deliberate step to the side, placing his own body between Malakor's forces and Li Yu.

"Malakor, you cowardly dog," Mo Jian's voice was cold and absolute, his words ringing out for all in the plaza to hear.

"Your fight is with my Asura Demon Clan. This young man is an honored guest, a healer who has come to aid us in our time of need. Whatever happens between our clans today, you will let our guest go. He has nothing to do with this. I swear on my honor as Clan Lord, if you harm a single hair on his head, my clan will hunt your Soul-Taker Sect to the ends of the earth and drain every last drop of soul from your pathetic followers, even if it is the last thing we do."

A wave of genuine surprise and a flicker of deep respect passed through Li Yu. He had come here for a transaction, an exchange of services for reward. He had expected to be used as a tool, a valuable asset to be protected. He had not expected this. In his clan's darkest hour, with his enemies at the gate and his guardian on its deathbed, Mo Jian's first instinct was to uphold the honor of a host and protect his guest—a guest from a rival faction, no less. It was an act of profound, almost foolish, nobility.

However, it had touched Li Yu deeply, this was a man of honor. He didn't know much about Mo Jian but at the very least he himself have not been treated poorly.

"You would waste your dying breath protecting a righteous brat?" Malakor mocked, though a flicker of surprise showed in his eyes.

"So be it! It matters not! Kill them all! The beasts are mine!" A great battle was about to erupt in the heart of the city, a fight that would decide the fate of the entire clan. But Li Yu had another idea. He had been touched by Mo Jian's honor, by his willingness to protect him. He would not fight their battle for them—that was not his place. But preventing a battle from happening in the first place? That was a different matter entirely. That was just being a good guest.

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, moving past the surprised Mo Jian. He looked at the sneering Malakor, at the two powerful, undead beasts, and a slow, smile touched his lips.

"Your beasts are impressive, Lord Malakor," he said, his voice calm and carrying easily across the vast cavern.

"But I find your timing to be… inconvenient. I was just about to begin my work."