Now that he had mastered the Gray Lord’s ultimate power, the offensive of Qin Feng’s Holy Empire army was unstoppable. They surged deep into the heartland like a tidal wave. All the Lizardman city-states and Sub-dragon Race tribal strongholds in their path quickly fell beneath their iron hooves, a true display of overwhelming force.

Yet even as the fires of war reached the last core fortresses of the Lizardman civilization, the Ancient Giant Dragons dwelling atop the Holy Mountain remained dormant. It was as if they had long abandoned their old oath—the ancient pact promising eternal shelter to the Lizardmen and Sub-dragon Creatures.

At this point, even the dullest person would have realized something was amiss.

Those Ancient Giant Dragons on the Dragon Realm’s Holy Mountain had to be caught up in some kind of calamity.

The "closed-door" decree they had previously issued was anything but normal. It seemed more like a desperate, expedient measure taken under duress—or perhaps even a malicious command intentionally given by some unclean things.

Standing in the central region of the Dragon Realm, Kuge, the new King’s Guard, bowed. His voice was grave as he reported:

"Your Majesty."

"The area ahead is the Dragon’s Canyon, the most treacherous part of our entire campaign."

"Our infantry and Cavalry legions are constrained by the terrain. They can’t possibly cross this natural barrier, let alone reach the foot of the Holy Mountain."

"Only the Royal Dragon Cavalry, who can fly, and the Magic Master units that can use the Floating Technique are able to pass through."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Will you send just those two forces to the Holy Mountain, where the Ancient Giant Dragons reside?"

At these words, Qin Feng gazed at the Dragon’s Canyon before him, a chasm flowing with magma. His eyes scanned every inch of the scorching earth, but he couldn’t find a single safe place to land.

For his conventional troops, just surviving for half a day in the canyon against the intense heat and magma would be an impossible task, let alone crossing the chasm to reach the Holy Mountain.

Qin Feng’s voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the churning Magma Canyon in the distance.

"There’s no rush."

"Let’s have Arthas scout ahead first."

The words had barely left his lips when he had Arthas mount a Winged Dragon Beast. Its massive Wing Membranes beat against the air, stirring up a scorching current. The beast carried Arthas straight through the steam-filled Magma Canyon and sped toward the Holy Mountain to the east.

After an unknown amount of time, Arthas, riding the Winged Dragon at full speed, finally navigated the treacherous Magma Canyon and reached his final destination: the Holy Mountain.

The Holy Mountain shot up from the ground, its peaks piercing the clouds. Its grey-brown slopes were covered in varying shades of green, like a giant tapestry woven by nature itself.

A closer look revealed that this was no ordinary foliage. Bowl-thick vines coiled like great dragons around towering ancient trees. The trunks were so massive it would take four or five people to encircle them, and their bark was covered in dark brown lines, as if etched with the very script of the ages.

The branches of the ancient trees stretched out in every direction, their broad, door-sized leaves overlapping to form an impenetrable canopy. Sunlight could only filter through the gaps, casting flecks of gold onto the thick layer of humus below, which glistened with moisture.

A faint, fresh scent of vegetation filled the air, mingled with a subtle, exotic aroma that emanated from strange flowers and plants growing in the crevices of the rock faces.

Some flowers were shaped like bells, their petals a translucent lavender. With the slightest tremble, they would shed sparkling dewdrops.

Other plants grew low to the ground but bore enormous red fruits, their surfaces glowing with a soft sheen as if brimming with some hidden energy.

The wind was exceptionally gentle as it moved through the forest, making the leaves RUSTLE softly. Occasionally, the crisp chirps of unseen birds could be heard, leaving behind a trail of lively echoes in the foliage.

Stranger still was the air current on the mountain. While a slight breeze could be felt at its base, the air grew increasingly still the higher one climbed. Faint halos of light could even be seen drifting between the branches and leaves, as if an invisible barrier enveloped the entire peak.

Mist would occasionally rise from the ravines, its white tendrils twining around the giant trees and vines. This lent the Holy Mountain an ethereal, otherworldly aura, as if an Elf might step out from the fog at any moment.

The mountain face was also dotted with scattered Crystal Ore veins. They refracted the dappled light into tiny, brilliant shards, creating a stark contrast with the lush greenery. The sight was at once primeval and vast, yet it concealed an ineffable mystery.

However, the magnificent scene from the legends—of countless Ancient Giant Dragons spreading their massive wings and soaring through the skies above the Holy Mountain—was nowhere to be seen.

In its place, the sky swarmed with Void Creatures. They were small and wraith-like, their bodies shimmering with a dark luster as they darted nimbly through the air. They looked remarkably like the ferocious imps often depicted in modern movies and television.

’Where have all the Ancient Giant Dragons gone?’

Qin Feng, sharing Arthas’s Field of View, frowned. Just as the question formed in his mind, the space before Arthas suddenly rippled and distorted.

Within a faint purple halo, a familiar figure slowly materialized.

The man was clad in a black Mage Robe adorned with subtle, dark patterns. The Steel Mask on his face glinted with a cold sheen in the dim light. It was none other than the Envious Believer, Nesia.

"Arthas?"

Nesia’s voice carried a hint of derision.

"Heh!"

"No, that’s not right!"

"I should be calling you Tingfeng!"

"To think you’d dare send your Clone in here all alone!"

After a brief pause, he sneered, his tone filled with Taunt.