Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

Page 153

　However, all these achievements are merely part of Casalos's grand plan. For a dragon with such an ancient lifespan, a few years is but a fleeting moment. Its true ambitions extend far beyond this. The complete revival of the Athenae, the confrontation with the threats of Tiamat and the Chromatic Dragons, the exploration of the ultimate secrets of the Dragon Vault, and even the reshaping of the entire multiverse—these are its true pursuits.

　Internal integration is equally arduous. Although everything appears to be proceeding smoothly on the surface, Casalos knows the real test is yet to come. As external pressure eases, various internal conflicts will inevitably surface. Historical grievances between different races, conflicts of interest between different classes, and power struggles between old and new forces—these are all thorny issues that require careful handling. A slight misstep could cause the hard-won system of governance to crumble.

　Infiltration and subversion of other factions are also underway. Through Charson's intelligence network and various covert methods, Casalos is systematically weakening potential threats. The Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan is mired in internal strife, the nobles of Santyrburg are fighting tooth and nail for power, and certain forces in the south that have been eyeing Deepwater have suffered various "unexpected" blows. Although these operations are extremely secretive, their effects are undeniable.

　Meanwhile, Casalos was also preparing for a longer-term goal. The real enemies weren't the obvious adversaries, but those lurking behind the scenes. Although Tiamat was temporarily imprisoned in the Nine Hells, her minions remained active across Faerûn. The Cult of Dragons, the Githyanki, and the chromatic dragons loyal to the Dragon Queen were all threats to be wary of. But on a deeper level, the gods who manipulated the fate of Faerûn were Casalos's ultimate adversaries.

　But now is not the time to consider these things. Casalos knows very well that its strength is far from sufficient; it needs more time to grow, to accumulate power, and to plan its moves. Although its youthful body already possesses power surpassing most ancient dragons, it still has a long way to go before reaching its true peak. The power provided by the Dragon Treasury is immense, but it also needs to be unlocked and mastered through constant trials. Every failure in the world of El is a valuable experience, and every node on the talent tree that is lit up represents an improvement in strength.

　A gentle morning breeze swept across the summit of Deepwater Mountain, carrying with it the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a vibrant sound, a sound of hope, a sound of a new era dawning. Casalos took a deep breath, feeling the magical fluctuations in the air. The continent of Faerûn was undergoing profound changes after the gods' return; the old order was crumbling, and a new order was forming. And it, a being born from a soul from another world and the blood of an Athena, stood at the forefront of this era of change. (The last sentence appears to be unrelated and possibly a fragment from another text.)

1. Ishnal's life as an undercover agent

　Ishnarle lay sprawled in its newly conquered lair, clutching a crest from the Cult of Dragons. Gazing at the obsidian carving that symbolized its current status, it couldn't help but recall its experiences over the years.

　It all started when it first joined the Bailong Cult.

　At that time, Ishnarl was just an ambitious adult green dragon, drawn by the Dragon Cult's prophecy that "the dragons of death will eventually rule the world." But when it actually came into contact with those dragon liches, its enthusiasm quickly cooled down.

　"Immortality?" It remembered the shock it felt when it first encountered the dragon lich. "This can be called immortality?"

　It was nothing more than a moving skeleton, devoid of all sensory pleasure, left only with a thirst for power and hatred for the living. Ishnal quickly realized that he did not want to become like that.

　Fortunately, it wasn't alone. Among the colorful dragons recruited by the Dragon Worship Cult, a considerable number of young colorful dragons shared similar thoughts—they wanted power but were unwilling to give up their lives. These dragons naturally gathered together.

　It started as private gatherings and exchanges, discussing how to gain as much benefit as possible from the Dragon Worship Cult without converting. Gradually, young dragons began to follow Ishnarl. His cunning mind and excellent eloquence quickly made him the leader of this loose group.

　But with great power comes great responsibility. When Ishnal's followers exceeded twenty, the leader of another faction came knocking.

　"Go back to your mushroom-covered thicket, you green-skinned lizard," the old red dragon Marazan had warned it, "or I'll burn you to ashes!"

　From that time on, the open and covert struggle between the two never ceased. Snatching new members, vying for resources, sabotaging each other behind the scenes… Ishnaler had to admit that if it weren't for what happened later, it might have lost this struggle.

　Although Ishnal lived longer, was more cunning, and had a more ruthless wing section, it was still ultimately a green dragon. Marazan, on the other hand, was a red dragon—no chromatic dragon would admit to being inherently inferior or weaker than a red dragon, but this unwillingness to admit it was itself a form of admission.

　Even though it was fortunate enough to inherit part of the Scarlet Dragon's legacy, Ishnarl's strength far surpassed that of ordinary ancient green dragons; even with the two-legged liches of the Dragon Cult mediating the conflict and attempting to control it, deep within its dragon soul, it still feared that old red dragon.

　The turning point came the day it met the old chewer.

　"Old Roar has hidden countless treasures in the Spine of the World," Old Bone Chewer had said confidently at the time. "Moreover, it's currently being hunted by two silver dragons and has abandoned its lair, fleeing the Prime Material Plane. Even if it returns, it will be greatly weakened. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

　Ishnarle still remembers his greed. The treasure of an ancient red dragon—what immense wealth that must have been! Even a small portion would have been enough for him to squander for centuries.

　However, when "Roar," who should have fled the Material Plane, appeared on the nest, it realized how foolish its mistake had been.

　That wasn't some weakened red dragon at all, but an ancient red dragon that had surpassed its peak. The battle—if it could even be called a battle—was over in an instant; its prized hide defenses were as fragile as paper before Grommash Hellscream.

　"Sign it, or die."

　Faced with that devil's pact, Ishnal had no choice.

　On the third day after returning to the Dragon Worship Cult, an unexpected event occurred.

　Late that night, Ishnarle was licking its chlorine-smelling wounds in its nest when it suddenly sensed that it was being watched. It immediately became alert, but no matter how hard it searched, it could not find any trace of the spy.

　"Keep the change, please."

　A voice resounded directly in its mind, while a shadow slowly coalesced before it. It was not a normal shadow, but something deeper and more dangerous.

　"Who are you?" Ishnal asked in a low voice.

　"I've come to you according to the contract." The voice from the shadows was devoid of emotion. "From today onward, obey my instructions."

　Ishnarle tried to make out the figure in the shadows, but all it could see was a blur. Using its dragon instincts, it guessed that it might be a shadow dragon, but that was just a guess.

　"First," the shadow continued, "learn this."

　An ancient book flew out of the shadows and landed before Ishnarle. Its cover was inscribed with intricate dragon runes, and its contents revealed a long-desired method of advancement: the complete intricate patterns and carving techniques of the Carved Skin Dragon!

　"Why are you giving me this?" it couldn't help but ask.

　"Study hard, and you'll gain a foothold in the Dragon Cult," the shadow said at the time.

　Having signed the devil's pact, Ishnarle dared not delve any deeper into its secrets. It could only follow the instructions, meticulously perfecting its still-unfinished advancement. The results were remarkable; in just six months, its defenses had increased significantly. Attacks that could previously harm it now only left shallow scratches on its scales; only legendary and chaotic magical weapons could truly break through its damage reduction; simultaneously, it gained immunity to fire and sound waves, and its resistance to other elements also greatly increased.

　At the same time, the shadow will appear irregularly, teaching it how to better control its subordinates, how to navigate the political struggles of the Dragon Cult with ease, and incidentally, bringing various inviolable instructions.

　"There's a kobold tribe in the northern canyon; subdue them."

　"Next week, three young orange-dragon-blooded humans will join the Dragon Worship Cult; try to recruit them."

　"Marazan has stored a batch of magical items in his eastern warehouse. Try to sabotage it."

　Every instruction was precise, as if the shadows knew every move the Cult of Dragons made. Ishnarle dared not disobey, and it found that following these instructions did indeed allow its power to expand rapidly.

　The dragon-blooded creatures it subdued were exceptionally reliable, never betraying it, and incredibly efficient. Ishnarle vaguely sensed they might have a different origin, but the Shadow never explained, and it dared not ask further. Under the Shadow's guidance, Ishnarle began systematically planting spies. Seemingly insignificant kobolds, half-dragons, and even some low-ranking dragonborn were cleverly placed in various positions within the Dragon Cult.

　As time passed, Ishnarl's power grew. It subdued more than thirty young dragons and controlled hundreds of dragon vein creatures. Even some neutral dragons began to gravitate towards it.

　Marazan clearly felt threatened. The old female dragon's methods became increasingly aggressive, even resorting to direct provocation and tearing apart young chromatic dragons as a demonstration of her brutality.

　While it's easy to dodge a spear in the open, it's hard to guard against a hidden arrow. Ishnarl could avoid Marazan's direct provocation, but the various tricks played by the green dragons under Marazan's wings truly threatened the safety of Ishnarl's small group.

　Fortunately, the shadows give warnings before every crisis.

　"Don't eat the third sheep that's delivered tomorrow."

　"Your chief bodyguard has been bribed. Get rid of him."

　"The day after tomorrow, Marazan will send a dragon to pretend to surrender, don't fall for it..." (The rest of the text appears to be nonsensical and unrelated to the initial statement.)

　Ishnal sometimes had the illusion that the entire Cult of the Dragon was under the watchful eye of the shadows—at least the outer organizations of the Cult. This thought sent chills down his spine, but it also made him even more hesitant to break the covenant.

　It could feel the shadow constantly watching it; that unease, like a thorn in its side, never faded. Even more terrifying, it knew perfectly well that the shadow had deliberately made it feel this way. If the shadow wanted, it wouldn't detect a single trace.

　This fear, however, spurred Ishnal to carry out the shadow's instructions even more diligently.

　A new turning point came during an unexpected meeting.

　That day, Ishnal was dealing with internal affairs when it suddenly felt an overwhelming pressure that made it feel suffocated. A pale, cold mist appeared out of nowhere, and then a semi-transparent, dragon-shaped phantom emerged from the mist.

　That was Qislindo, one of the most powerful dragon liches under the leadership of the Dragon Cult leader. It is said that this dragon lich, transformed from an ancient white dragon, has already touched the threshold of demigod, and its entire form has become ethereal, only able to manifest in the material world through its powerful will.

　"Ishnalel," Qislindo's voice seemed to come from another world, "your rise to power is quite interesting."

　Ishnal immediately adopted a respectful posture: "Chislindo...it's my honor."

　"The Dragon of Carved Skin..." A translucent dragon head slowly approached, pale flames burning in its empty eye sockets. "A rare skill. Samass is very interested in you."

　"I was just lucky to have received this inheritance by chance," Ishnaler replied cautiously.

　"Luck?" Qislindo let out a sinister laugh. "In the Cult of Dragons, nothing is accidental. But that's not important; what matters is your worth."

　A chilling, ethereal aura swirled around Ishnarl, its deathly gaze, almost freezing the dragon's soul, causing its scales to stand on end. A white dragon and a demigod lich transformed from a white dragon—these are two completely different things.

　"Samass believes that combining the skills of the Skinflint Dragon with the transformation abilities of the Dragon Lich might create an even more powerful being," Qislindo continued. "Would you be willing to be part of this experiment?"

　The flow of dragon magic in Ishnarek's veins almost ceased. It was an invitation, and a threat... It even somewhat regretted not choosing the cold as the energy immunity gained from the complete skin-carving advancement.

　"I...I need time to prepare," it said with difficulty. "The evolution of the Carved Skin Dragon is not yet complete; a hasty transformation might fail."

　"A wise choice." Qislindo seemed satisfied with the answer. "Continue your ascension. When you are ready, the doors of the Cult of Dragons will always be open to you. Remember, Ishnal, in this world, only death is eternal."

　The phantom gradually dissipated, leaving behind only a ground covered in frost that seemed to last forever.

　That night, the shadows reappeared.

　"Well done." This was the first time the shadow had given its assessment. "Keep delaying, but don't refuse."

　"They'll lose patience sooner or later," Ishnaler couldn't help but say.

　"That's for later," the shadowy voice remained calm. "Right now, what you need to do is continue expanding your power. Remember, appear ambitious on the surface, but don't actually threaten those dragon liches."

　Ishnal nodded; it had gradually gotten used to this life of walking a tightrope.

　Then there was the Silvermoon City incident not long ago.

　Samasser led his elite forces into battle with great fanfare, only to return defeated and humiliated. At least two archmages were killed, and both Qislindo and Samasser were seriously injured. The atmosphere within the entire Cult of Dragons instantly became oppressive.

　"The situation is changing," the shadow found it afterward. "Prepare for new instructions. The grand show is about to begin."

　That's the end of the recollection. Ishnaler looked at the emblem in his claws and couldn't help but smile bitterly.

　From a free green dragon to a high-ranking member of the Dragon Worship Cult, and then... it doesn't even know what it is now. A pawn? A tool? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is neither.

　But at least it's still alive. In this crazy world, being alive is a victory in itself.

　"Whoever you are, whatever you're plotting," Ishnaler muttered to himself, "I just hope this all ends soon."

　Something seemed to be moving in the shadows of the nest, but upon closer inspection, there was nothing there.

　That feeling of being watched has never disappeared.

2. Operation codename "Polaris"

　Since Samaster appeared outside Silvermoon City, the activities of the Dragon Cult have suddenly become low-key. Even the Golden Dragon Royal Court or the Harpists' Alliance can hardly find any trace of them anymore, as if they have disappeared from the continent of Faerûn.

　The aftershocks of the turmoil continued, and the unusual silence of the Dragon Cult brought a sigh of relief to all the major powers in Faerûn. Only Casalos knew that these madmen were brewing a big move.

　Before Casalos lay a trade report from the Deepwater City Merchant Guild, its densely packed numbers causing its vertical pupils to narrow slightly. On the surface, it was just an ordinary quarterly trade statistic, but in its eyes, these dry numbers concealed a chilling truth.

　"Svent, bring me the gem shipment records from last quarter," Casalos commanded via telepathy, summoning his most loyal hound.

　The half-dragon kobold guard captain quickly delivered a thick crystal containing detailed data—enough to fill several cartloads of parchment—engraved with psionic energy. Casalos's consciousness scanned the psionic code, and the pseudo-Laplace's demon decoded it into a clear, visual chart—a method of information recording that would require centuries of dedicated research for even an archmage to decipher.

　The chart shows that a few months ago, gem orders flowing to Damara and surrounding areas, including Moonsea and Imbutu, remained at a normal level of 100,000 carats per month. However, starting from the second week after Samaster's "disastrous defeat" in Silvermoon City, this number began to climb strangely—first doubling, then tripling, then quintupling, and now reaching a terrifying figure of nearly three million carats per month.

　These orders did not come from a single buyer. On the surface, the orders were placed by hundreds of different businesses scattered throughout eastern Faerûn, including jewelers, magical item shops, and even a few merchants ostensibly dealing in grain. However, Casalos, through tracking the flow of goods through the vast commercial network of Dragon Territory, discovered an interesting pattern: all the goods ultimately ended up in areas where the Cult of Dragons was active.

　"Heh, that old lich Samasser really thought he could fool me," Casalos muttered to himself, tapping his tail lightly on the table.

　It's the behind-the-scenes power behind nearly 80% of the gem supply in the entire continent of Faerûn. The industrialized gem-cultivating production lines beneath Dragon Territory operate day and night, producing gems that not only look identical to natural gems but also surpass them in magical properties—a purer crystal structure results in better magical flow, and more regular cuts ensure a more stable success rate for spellcasting. This is the primary reason why those "high-quality" gems with dragon head emblems engraved on specially designed facets sell so well in Faerûn.

　In Forgotten Realms, gems are not merely ornaments symbolizing status and wealth; they are also real consumables. Magical research, arcane casting, mana storage, the creation of magical equipment and items—anything related to magic relies heavily on various kinds of gems.

　"Since Samass is in such a hurry for the goods, let them buy more." Casalos clicked his tongue and had Svent pass on the new order: "Starting today, all gem orders destined for the Frigid Lands and surrounding markets will have their prices increased by 30%. Let them figure out the reasons themselves..."

　"Understood, my lord." Svent completed his own task before turning to Casalos and asking, "Won't raising prices now arouse suspicion from buyers?"

　"No way," Casalos said confidently. "They're frantic right now, snapping up so many gems at once. The dwarves of Asshal have to clear out their stock. A 30% increase, or even a 50% increase, would be reasonable. Also, slow down the shipping speed a bit to create the illusion of high demand and low supply. That's market dynamics; when demand exceeds supply, prices naturally rise. But then again, I have to thank them for helping me clear my inventory. Those stockpiled gems finally have a place to go, and at a high price. This deal is incredibly profitable."

　Only a dragon could so brazenly take advantage of someone's misfortune.

　After Svent left, Casalos's expression shifted. He summoned an invisible servant to hook onto a wisp of shadow and retrieve a stack of sealed letters. These were intelligence reports transmitted through multiple encrypted channels—magic, psionic, and cipher protection—making them even more secure than data recorded by psionic crystals. With the gods unable to descend to the mortal realm themselves, even if Elminster were to study them, he wouldn't be able to decipher them. Well, that old man's magical research abilities and pure arcane knowledge were actually among the worst of Faerûn's many famous archmages; his strength lay in practical combat.

　This is thanks to years of experience fighting in taverns...

　Shaking his head to clear his mind of the jumbled thoughts, Casalos carefully opened the latest letter, which contained a report written by Charleson in special ink:

　"The Dragon Cult has recently seen frequent personnel changes. All dragons or dragon liches that Samass can mobilize have been confirmed to have concentrated in the Frigid Lands, possibly gathering in the Great Glacier region. The number of newly joined young, multicolored dragons has reached twenty-three, representing all five colors. Ishnarle has successfully infiltrated the middle ranks and obtained some resource allocation authority. The specific details of the plan are still under investigation."

　The letter self-destructed word by word under Casalos's gaze, and the Iron Dragon lowered its head in deep thought. Samaster knew perfectly well what it wanted to do and what it was doing. But knowing was one thing, and dealing with it was another. The impending catastrophe was far more devastating to the beings of Faerûn than the upheavals of the Fallen Gods during the Year of the Shadow; even if it had been successfully prevented in the original timeline, the resulting destruction would have been almost equivalent to a true cataclysmic disaster.

　What Casalos needs to do is to insert himself at the right time and in the right way, ensuring the safety of himself and his allies while reaping the greatest possible benefits.

　As for the more distant goals… considering that destroying one layer of the Abyss had no real impact on Tiamat's conspiracy, it was an almost impossible goal to achieve. Bahamut, a super hypocrite several times more insidious than Tiamat, undoubtedly had far more and more effective redundancy in his plans than Tiamat ever had.

　Whether or not this goal can be achieved is not really important to Casalos right now.

　"If things go smoothly..." it murmured to itself, "it would be ideal if the anthropomorphic dragons could replace the metallic dragons in Faerûn's current humanoid society."

　Just as he was pondering this, Svent delivered another important message: "My lord, in Damara, His Majesty Gaelos has inquired about the ore supply plan for the next quarter." (The rest of the text appears to be unrelated and possibly machine-generated gibberish.)

　"Tell him everything is as usual." Casalos thought for a moment, then added, "Also, hint that something big might happen soon, and instruct the Royal Dragon Knights of Damara to be on high alert. Tell them to be careful, and if his grandfather gave him any means to defend against curses or protect his soul, don't hesitate to use them... Also, tell Vicaritulal to go and oversee Damara, and while he's at it, remind Imptu's bronze dragons to warn those younger metal dragons, in the name of the ancient dragons, not to forget their bronze dragon nature after spending so much time with human nobles!"

　"Yes, sir." Sven bowed and withdrew again.

　Casalos rose and paced through the spacious dragon's lair. Through the compilation and deduction of intelligence, Casalos could now conclude that Samaster's previous troublesome visit to Silvermoon City against Elasdra wasn't solely due to the influence of the Bane's chosen one, Egarson Nasser, as recorded in the major events, nor was it merely to settle his grudge against Elasdra. Samaster had likely already seen through Egarson's schemes; he was merely using this doomed "revenge" to feign death and escape the Harpists' notice. By listening to Elminster and Kelburn's whispers, Casalos confirmed that the Harpists, currently embroiled in internal strife and division due to the aftermath of the divine reshuffling during the turbulent year, had indeed completely overlooked Samaster's "severely wounded" retreat from Silvermoon City…

　This also explains to some extent why, in the original timeline, when Samaster unleashed the final dragon frenzy that affected the entire continent, the Harpists' Alliance, which should have been active at the forefront of such events, seemed to be nonexistent.

　"That's fine too," Tie Long thought to himself.

　Under his influence, the development of the world line has deviated greatly from the original world line. Casalos will absolutely not allow the Harpists' Alliance to be absent from this event—this group of chaotic, kind, and silly people who heal themselves for justice has caused him trouble more than once or twice. Several important members of the Harpists' Alliance are still imprisoned in the Tindor Snow Mountain. In this event that endangers the entire continent, it would be a great underestimation of the dragon's "petty-mindedness" not to push these guys to the front line and make some practical contributions to the peace and stability of the continent.

　A gentleman takes revenge even after ten years, while a petty person takes revenge from morning till night. Dragon's revenge is a super combination of both, a super-amplified version. Furthermore, although Casalos's relationship with Elminster and Kelburn wasn't great, he ultimately considered them allies. Now, these academic and technical Dawn Harpists are being half-dead by the Twilight politicians. As a reliable ally, Casalos is helping them deal with the separatists and quell the internal strife; wouldn't they be moved to tears? Whether their tears are for the sacrificed Harpist Alliance members or genuine gratitude is beyond Dragon's consideration.

　After going through the entire plan again from beginning to end and making preparations for any possible unexpected events, Casalos contacted Kara, the dragon consort of Damara, who had already gone to the noble circle of Lorba, the capital of Imput, as well as Lanmuloyk, who was active in the Sea of ​​the Moon, and other members of the Atheros.

　"Operation codename 'Polaris' is officially launched."

3. Miraba