Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 382: The Dragon’s Maw Opens

Eyes wide, Adam moved closer until a notification burst in a sea of stars in front of him.

[Demon den absorbed by The Dragon’s Maw Citadel!]

His fingers twitched before the notification. That name... felt familiar? Searching in his memories, he recalled several appearances—each when he got a first-time achievement in leveling up.

And knowing about it doubled the impact of his shock. ’The building Tiamat tried to push?!’

He raised his constricted pupils to the towering dragon head. Its abyssal maws served as the entrance but also as a vector for that pure chaotic energy that almost made his head spin to fill the city.

There was no doubt this building was worthy of Tiamat’s ancient existence. And he was more than eager to discover what wonders were hidden inside.

Before the sprawled citizens could pick themselves up, he blurred beneath the doors’ long shadows and placed his hands on the pulsing patterns running on the jagged surface. He could almost swear he felt a throb when he exerted his muscles to push them open, and they screeched against the ground under their impossible weight.

Chaos immediately rushed to his nostrils and blasted his hair in a frantic dance of black and white. He found it similar to a breath, while the corridors sprawling before him would be arteries leading to cavernous spaces and chambers echoing a dragon’s anatomy.

He strolled inside, gems flickering along the walls to accompany the sound of his curious steps. With each breath, his body gulped energy like a thirsty whale. His muscles tensed, his cells shuddered, and his bones hummed in delight as he felt power course through him.

The first cave he entered made him grin. The scent of sulfur, the greenish glow of the liquid pool of fire—his demon den!

The icy flames and spatial tear to Jotunheim were gone. But he shrugged. "I won’t need jotuns if I summon balors. Anyway, their loyalty is doubtful when a bastard like Loki backs them up."

He took a second to curse Loki before he gave his den an approving nod. His heavy heart lightened, too, with the confirmation that he had not lost his way to summon soldiers.

But he wasn’t ready for the next surprises.

In the next room, plants unfolded before his eyes. But against his expectations, they were anything but lush. Instead, they glowed in dark and white, releasing light particles that reminded him of the moon.

Though the phenomenon drew his attention, a shadow in the middle captured it—an ancient tree.

Despite its onyx bark, vigorous branches extended everywhere. Silver leaves formed a lush canopy obscuring the ceiling. Yet, his eyes locked on the small burgeons showing signs of growth at their edges.

A soft pitter-patter attracted him to a pond in front of the thick roots.

"Is it related to the burgeons... It looks a bit like the elven summoning building." He tucked his fingers around his chin, then threw one of the cores he got from the Jotunheim’s giant wolves into the pond to figure it out.

Mab chuckled behind him as water splashed, making him jump into a battle stance. "Look at you. So eager to explore that you forgot about me. I’m almost feeling ignored."

He coughed in his raised fist, a wry smile curving his lips. He had forgotten she was with him all along... "Of course I didn’t forget. I’m just fascinated by the building. What’s that tree, by the way?"

She rolled her eyes. "Right. You didn’t." She pointed at a growing burgeon. "Anyway, watch."

Intrigued, he observed the burgeon as it turned into fruit, then something that looked like a human-sized silver egg.

It dropped on the flowers with a soft rustle before the shell cracked open. A somber hand shattered it, a leathery coat flapped, and long silver hair cascaded the dark-skinned individual that had emerged.

Like the other summoned soldiers, he kneeled in front of Adam and spoke in a deep, cavernous voice. "Greetings, my lord. I’m the Svartálfar, Kolsvartur."

Though Adam frowned, the man’s long ears explained more than enough what Svartálfar were. "A dark elf?"

Mab nodded. "Unlike light-skinned elves, they’re amazing crafters more attuned to earth, darkness, and moonlight. You’ll find summoning ground for dwarves and humans, too." Her smile broadened as she waved her hand and flew out. "These are too common for you now, don’t you think? Come, I’ll show you the best parts."

Adam told the elf to join the craftsman district, then hurried behind Mab.

In the blink of an eye, they crossed dozens of rooms and scaled the structure. Once they reached the jagged towers, she slowed down and grinned.

"Everything here requires ten tier-seven beast cores, but the summons will make your army incredibly versatile." She pointed at the rooms one after another, as excited as him. "You can get minotaurs, hippogriffs, medusas, and manticores. But they’re nothing, you hear me? Nothing compared to the true star creature."

Adam’s heart hastened, his lips curving into an eager smirk. "Don’t tell me..."

"I will tell you! For twenty tier-seven cores, you can summon young dragons!"

Twenty tier-seven cores weren’t cheap, but imagining a division of dragons dominating the sky and raining scalding breath on enemy armies made him shudder. Even better, they’d hatch as younglings, meaning his generals would have time to bond with them and foster a relationship of trust.

"It’s just perfect! I can even build a flying cavalry using the hippogriffs. The minotaurs can become our spearhead. They’ll ruin the enemy’s formation like enraged bulls. Manticores and medusas..." He shook his head. "I don’t need them."

Why would he? One needed careful handling to avoid friendly petrifications, while the other was a creature from nightmares. Flight, jagged projectiles, three rows of sharp teeth, and drill-like nails, not to mention its bottomless appetite—the manticore was just too dangerous... and ugly.

Mab nodded at his choice. "You have much to do, so let’s not dawdle and visit the last room."

There was more? Surprised, he followed her to the highest tower. A purple and golden carpet embroidered with dark cuneiform met his feet.

Two cosmic dragons embroidered on the doors with lifelike accuracy leaned against each other. He observed their peaceful faces resting on their mates’ backs as they slept, making him wonder if one of them was Tiamat.