NOVPUBThe Scavengers weren't the only ones attracted by Garren's destructive Black Sun attack. The entire realm had been altered.
Including the Scourge Commander patrolling the skies.
From an abandoned building, a Scourge Commander narrowed its eyes in the direction of the ruined cathedral.
A few minutes ago, Ashren had foreseen something like this happening and decided to bring the dragonkin to his base—but little did he know that one of the Scourge Commanders had seen them when they were leaving.
After a while of watching, the Scourge Commander extended its wings and flew into the distance.
Some time later, the Commander hovered before a colossal tower that seemed to pierce the corrupted skies, clouds, and beyond.
Several corrupted dragon champions flew around this structure in a clockwise formation. The air here was extremely polluted—it seemed as though a single sniff would be enough for a normal dragon to become infected.
The dragons might have found this place suffocating, but for the Scourge, this was comfort. It was their home. And here... they were at their strongest.
As the Commander landed atop the towering black spire, its wings folded inward like a blade sheathing itself.
It lowered its head—not out of reverence, but instinct. The air up here was dense, thick with corruption.
Without lifting a single claw, the Commander walked forward and knelt before a dark altar where a throne sat. It wasn't shaped for comfort, nor did it resemble the kind of throne fit for kings. Instead, it was a large black cocoon that emitted a faint glow.
The Scourge Commander spoke in a dry, rasping voice, "I bring news."
"Speak," a voice replied from within the cocoon. Not loud, not forceful, yet it silenced every other sound in the tower.
No one outside the spire had seen the Alpha in years. Not truly. The last time he had appeared in full was during the betrayal—when the Eight Monarchs turned their might against him.
There was a common rumor that the cocoon had magical properties capable of enhancing one's strength. Hence, the Alpha had remained inside it for the past decades.
In recent days, cracks had begun to form in the cocoon—a clear sign that the Scourge Alpha would soon emerge.
The Commander nodded and began his report. "My liege, our suspicion was correct. The Eight Monarchs have indeed sent out their most promising warriors to the Dragon Realm."
"Fortunately, they ran into one of the surviving factions, led by Garren Hale, who has taken a few of their members captive."
"What does he plan to do with them?"
"According to our research, he's trying to create something like the Scourge... but with sanity."
There was a pause. Several seconds of silence.
"Do you believe in fate, Commander?"
The question came suddenly.
The Commander didn't answer.
"I do," said the Alpha. "Fate is not kind. It forgets. Betrays. But it remembers just enough to punish the weak."
Cracks slithered across the surface of the cocoon.
"We gave them mercy," the Alpha growled. "And they gave us fire. The Eight Monarchs still sit on their thrones... but I will rise."
"What are your orders, Alpha?" the Commander asked.
"The time has come."
The Commander's eyes widened. "You mean—?"
"I will awaken," the Scourge Alpha declared. "Ready the army. Soon… the world will remember the Ninth."
---
Because of the blast—and worried that the group might be discovered—Ashren had brought everyone to the Scavengers' base.
"Everyone's here. Let's begin," Drake said quietly.
Ashren stepped forward and unfurled a torn parchment. A sketched outline of a fortress—twisted and jagged—filled the center. At the top were four protrusions: towers.
"The Hollow Spire has four primary guard towers. Each one houses elite corrupted dragonkin, and they've been reinforced with cursed seals. And then there's this—"
He tapped a spot near the base.
"The Hollow Maw. A Scourge beast that nests near the entrance. It's one of the few corrupted monsters with semi-sentience. It eats light... and it remembers faces."
A murmur passed through the group.
At that moment, another group arrived at the base as well. Cloaked figures with silver tattoos across their hoods stepped into the light. Leading them was Voron, the old man from the Remnant Eye. He carried a rolled scroll and a heavy tome.
"I received the message long ago. I see you, Ashren," Voron said with a smile.
"Voron." Ashren nodded in acknowledgement.
Voron laid the scroll on the table. It was a detailed interior layout of the Hollow Spire—complete with tunnels, chambers, and even the... supposed pool.
Lumi, still bandaged and pale, stepped forward unsteadily.
"I want to help. I don't think I can fight in this state, but my construct—Big Sister—will be a great help."
"You're still recovering," Raziel said. "You need to rest and stay away from this mission."
"Which means I'll be safer behind enemy lines, guiding from the dark. Let me do this," Lumi pleaded.
Drake gave her a long look, then nodded.
---
Voron cleared his throat. "You have three days. That pool at the center of the Hollow Spire—it amplifies corruption. If your friends are submerged for seventy-two hours, they won't be saved. Their minds, their bodies... gone."
Ashren tapped the map again. "Two fronts. A distraction team will draw the guards to the towers and outer walls. Meanwhile, the infiltration team will use the old tunnels from the southern ruins. They link beneath the Spire. We hit fast."
"Agreed," Drake said. "We need a miracle."
Right on cue, a cloaked figure approached. His left arm was missing, replaced by a twisted growth of bone and metal. His face was partially scaled, but his eyes were clear.
"Name's Thorne. Used to serve under Garren. Not anymore."
Weapons were drawn instantly.
"Hold," Voron said before anyone could do harm. "I stumbled upon him some time ago. Don't worry—he defected months back."
The others still looked at Thorne with wary eyes but refrained from attacking.
Thorne pulled a glowing item from his pouch.
"This is a Purity Sigil. One use. Three minutes of nullified corruption in a small radius. It might buy you enough time to get your friends out."
Drake stepped forward. "Why help us?"
"Because..." Thorne hesitated before sighing. "I just want things to return to the way they were. Also, I know what Garren plans. I helped build the room where he's taking them. I know where the pool is. And I want to make it right."
Ashren looked to Drake. "It might be the edge we need."
Drake hesitated, then nodded. "You're in."
---
Meanwhile, inside the Hollow Spire...
Chains clanked as Zara, Elise, Nyxirith, and the unconscious Celestis were dragged across the stone floor. Their bodies were limp—but breathing.
They were taken into a vast chamber filled with thick red mist and pulsating symbols.
And in the middle of the chamber... was a basin of swirling black liquid.
