Chapter Forty-Four: The Prophet of the Beast Tribe

The entire structure of Agula Mountain resembled a towering skyscraper, and the dragons did not live on the exterior of the mountain but had instead carved out a paradise within its core.

As Chu Tian stepped into Agula Mountain, he felt as if he had returned to a modern commercial building on Earth. The interior of the mountain was cylindrical, and the central plaza opened directly upward, reaching the very peak. Sunlight, as thick as a bowl's rim, streamed straight down from the summit. Around the plaza, various rooms and halls clustered against the mountain walls, ascending layer upon layer, extending endlessly.

Countless magical stones adorned the mountain walls, their gentle glow illuminating the interior like day. Dragons, alone or in pairs, landed in the plaza or soared high above; occasionally, a human figure could be spotted—no doubt, a ninth-tier dragon capable of assuming human form.

Once inside, Clark allowed Chu Tian to ride on his back, granting the young master a rare taste of being a dragon rider. Such an opportunity was a once-in-a-millennium event, for the pride of the dragon race forbade anyone from riding upon them. Yet, this time was exceptional—Clark needed to take Chu Tian to the upper levels of Agula Mountain, and even a dragon would need several minutes to fly there. With Chu Tian’s Boeing 747 temporarily impounded, it would be unthinkable to let the Dragon Emperor’s guest climb all the way up. So Clark endured this indignity, just this once.

Man and dragon ascended slowly, and Clark took the opportunity to introduce Agula Mountain. “Agula Mountain is divided into two parts, inner and outer. The outer section is home to lesser draconic beasts, who defend against intruders, while the true world of the dragon race lies within.”

“Our strength ranges from seventh-tier young dragons to tenth-tier Dragon Emperors, so our territories are separated accordingly.” Clark spun around, giving Chu Tian a clear view of their surroundings. “Here is where seventh-tier young dragons reside. Above, you’ll find the quarters of eighth-tier dragons. The ninth-tier dragons live at the very top.”

Guided by Clark, Chu Tian scrutinized the dragons’ lair, thinking to himself: Dragons indeed value strength above all. The architecture on the mountain walls was clearly divided into three levels. The area for young dragons was ordinary, but in the eighth-tier section, the buildings rivaled those of imperial nobility. Higher still, the mansions of ninth-tier dragons were almost as grand as the Caesar Palace.

“And where does His Majesty the Dragon Emperor reside?” Chu Tian was eager to see just how ostentatious the emperor’s quarters were.

“His Majesty and the elders of the Supreme Council live at the summit, while you and the other invited guests are housed below the emperor’s palace,” Clark replied.

Supreme Council? Praise be to the Goddess of Life! Did the dragons practice democracy? Chu Tian began to pray for Dragon Emperor Aristode. Now that he himself was a high-ranking bureaucrat and feudal lord, he despised the mere mention of democracy—who would want to recall such ideals in his current position?

“Who else has arrived?” Chu Tian wanted to gather intelligence before proceeding with his business.

“You are the third to arrive. Before you, Merlin the Archmage from Elson Kingdom and Prophet Ron from the beast clans have already arrived.”

Ron!? Chu Tian narrowed his eyes and smiled. That account with Basten still needed settling; perhaps he could extort this old fox once more. Ron’s status among the beast clans was even higher than Anthony’s in Caesar, so when Basten led the beast armies to attack Chu Tian, Ron could not have been unaware—and perhaps even orchestrated the whole affair. Even if he had no part in it, he should have warned his old friend’s apprentice about the impending danger. Not doing so was inexcusable.

While Chu Tian was plotting his next move against Ron, Clark stopped. “Mr. Vladino, we’ve arrived!”

Chu Tian dismounted, surveying his surroundings. They were now at the mountain’s peak. The sunlight, which earlier seemed as narrow as a bowl, now flooded the space like the dome of Caesar’s Grand Arena. Scattered along the mountain wall were a few luxurious villas, and above them loomed Aristode’s palace. “Mr. Vladino, this is your residence,” Clark said, pointing to one of the villas.

“Praise be to the Goddess of Life! I am quite satisfied,” Chu Tian replied modestly, then immediately shifted his tone. “But I’d like to visit Mr. Ron first—he is a friend of my teacher, Anthony.”

“Very well, please follow me. Mr. Ron dislikes this environment, so we’ve respected his preferences and placed him on the next level below.”

Clark led Chu Tian to Ron’s quarters. The young master instantly understood why Ron and Anthony became friends: they both enjoyed self-imposed hardship and preferred to live in thatched huts!

“I’ll leave you to your meeting. Contact me if you need anything,” Clark said, handing Chu Tian a magical communication stone—much to Chu Tian’s annoyance, who was used to shouting for communication.

After Clark departed, Chu Tian knocked gently and asked, “Is Mr. Ron here? Vladino of the Caesar Empire requests an audience!” Though he had come to demand answers, he was compelled to be polite; after all, Ron was a ninth-tier professional. While prophets were even less combative than priests, it was said that each prophet possessed some mysterious power—Chu Tian had to be cautious.

“Come in. I already know you’re here to question me,” came a deep, aged voice as the door creaked open on its own.

What a true charlatan! Chu Tian thought, realizing he still had much to learn on the path of mysticism.

Chu Tian smiled, adopting the classic expression of a master mystic, and strode inside. The room contained only a rough wooden table, a worn chair, and a broad bed. Seated was an elderly beastman of the lion tribe, plainly dressed, gazing at Chu Tian.

“Praise be to the Goddess of Life! My teacher…” Chu Tian began, intending to speak of Anthony, but Ron interrupted, “Anthony is well—I already know that.”

Chu Tian chuckled awkwardly; this old man was truly a master of the mystical arts. “I’ve long heard of your reputation…”

“I know what you want to say,” the old lion interrupted again. “And I know you’re cursing me in your heart over the Basten affair.”

Chu Tian was momentarily speechless. “The Basten incident has nothing to do with me. Though I didn’t inform you, didn’t you also benefit greatly?”

How did he know? Chu Tian had swindled Basten just three days earlier, and Basten was still waiting for rescue in the Muddy Swamp. How could Ron, here in Agula Mountain, have learned of it? Chu Tian had searched Basten thoroughly and found no communication devices.

“Is there anything else?” Ron asked.

“No,” Chu Tian replied, dejected. This old charlatan was so formidable that he hadn’t even allowed Chu Tian a chance to speak.

“Very well, you may return.”

Chu Tian obediently turned and left. Watching his retreating figure, Ron muttered to himself, “Anthony, my old friend! The only truly wise thing you ever did was to take such a fine student…”