Chapter 334: The Eve of the Storm

Beneath the damp, blood-reeking third basement of Auction Island, the Huy?t M?c seed from the front paw of the little leopard cub Finnick, the moment it touched Grand Elder Sylphie’s palm, turned into a warm, dark red underground current.

That pure stream of life force silently pierced through the cold stone floor, radiating into hundreds of invisible roots connecting to every iron cage holding nearly two thousand Elven clan members in the stone cave.

The Elves who were gasping for breath, curled up in the cages, including the children with high fevers due to excessive blood loss, suddenly felt the wounds on their wrists stop bleeding. A familiar warmth, like the embrace of the ancient forest from their childhood, gently enveloped their faintly beating hearts, pulling each of them back from the brink of death.

Grand Elder Sylphie tried to suppress her surging emotions so as not to rattle the eight iron chains piercing through her shoulder blades. She maintained her head-bowed posture as if unconscious, pouring all her remaining spirit to telepathically communicate with the Lord in the form of the little leopard in front of her:

[My Lord... You must be absolutely careful. The one truly pulling the strings behind the Council of Twelve Merchants of Silver Port is no mortal!]

Finnick’s round, spotted ears twitched slightly, his dark green eyes narrowing:

[Explain clearly. Under this island, besides the mercenary mages of the Merchant Council, who else is there?]

[It is someone calling himself Grand Apothecary Malakor!] Elder Sylphie’s telepathic voice trembled with hatred: [It was that monster in the black cloak who brought the parasitic flesh lump and planted it into the taproot of the World Tree in the Eternal Forest a hundred years ago! He is also the one who taught Guildmaster Gideon and the Twelve Merchants how to use magic chains to drain our people’s blood, then mix the eggs of the decay worms into the blood to concoct what they call the Immortality Elixir!]

Finnick listened to every word, simultaneously using his divine consciousness through the tree roots clinging to the cliff wall to silently scan the second basement above. Sure enough, in the central area of the second basement, there was an apothecary room enveloped by a dense, dark gray barrier, reeking heavily of the God of Decay’s foul aura, exactly like the energy that had appeared on the six-winged envoy in the Cathalan Capital!

[Not only that...] Grand Elder Sylphie hurriedly continued: [Yesterday, when Malakor and Gideon came down to inspect, I accidentally overheard their conversation. The Blood Moon Auction opening the day after tomorrow is actually a giant trap! They spread the news of auctioning my heart to lure all the princes, grand nobles, and wealthiest merchants who have drank the Immortality Elixir over the past decades to gather on this Auction Island.]

[They intend to harvest those worm-breeding hosts right at the auction?] Finnick immediately guessed the opponent’s intention.

[Yes! Malakor said that his Master’s largest faith-draining funnel in the Cathalan Capital had just been smashed, causing his Master to fly into a rage and order the immediate replenishment of the lost energy. Therefore, during the finale of the auction night, they will use my heart’s blood as a catalyst, activating a massive blood sacrifice array across the entire island to awaken the parasitic worms inside the bellies of the thousands of nobles and merchants present, draining the flesh, blood, and souls of the entire island in a single night!]

Hearing this, the little leopard cub’s eyes turned freezing cold. The God of Decay had just had his blood-sucking funnel cut off by Papa and Daddy at the Cathalan Temple, and immediately switched to draining dry this "worm-breeding farm" in the Seven Autonomous Cities on the East Coast to make up for it!

[I understand.] Finnick instructed telepathically: [Sylphie, over the next two days, use the voice of the bloodline to secretly inform all the clan members in the dungeon to mentally prepare, but outwardly, you must all still pretend to be weak as usual to avoid alerting the snake in the grass. Wait until the auction night, when Malakor personally steps onto the stage to open the array; Papa, Daddy, and I will rescue all of you!]

[Understood! We will definitely wait for You!]

After double-checking to ensure Chloe’s Huy?t M?c seed was completely hidden beneath the stone paving of the pedestal, Finnick quietly retracted his aura. His small body leapt lightly onto the stone beam on the cave ceiling. The guards drinking and playing cards at the corner of the iron gate were still drunkenly arguing about who cheated in the last hand, completely unaware that the grim reaper had just taken a stroll right above their heads.

Fifteen minutes later, from a narrow ventilation shaft on the northern cliff of Auction Island, Finnick’s small head, covered in golden fuzz with black spots, peeked out.

On a submerged reef a hundred meters away in the night mist, Sane was still standing with his arms crossed, waiting. His dark cloak fluttered in the sea breeze without catching a single drop of cold dew. As soon as he saw his son appear, Sane flicked his finger lightly to open a spatial rift, catching the small body darting through, then turned and tore through space, heading straight back to the mansion on the hillside of Silver Port.

The large living room of the mansion was still brightly lit. Kaelen had not yet slept; he sat on the long sofa, holding a soft cotton towel dipped in warm water, his eyes glancing toward the balcony every so often. As soon as the space in front of the balcony flashed and Sane’s tall figure stepped in, Kaelen immediately stood up:

"You’re back? Did it go smoothly?"

"With our son taking action, how could those small fries under the island detect anything." Sane smiled faintly, lifting the little leopard cub clinging to his elbow by the scruff of its neck and placing it into Kaelen’s arms: "However, that rat hole under the island was too dirty, making his fur covered in stone dust and the stench of blood."

Finnick was just about to open his mouth to report the important information he had scouted, but before the first word could escape, his entire body was tightly wrapped in a warm cotton towel by Kaelen!

Kaelen pulled the little leopard cub, laying him on his back with all four paws up on his lap. While meticulously using the warm towel to wipe the stone dust off the soft fur, he grabbed each stubby leg to clean both the pink paw pads and between the tiny claws:

"You took the underground ventilation pipes, right? Look, even your whiskers are caught in spiderwebs. Lie still and let Papa wipe you clean before you talk."

The entire body of the esteemed God of Life stiffened like a log on his Papa’s lap. Finnick lay with his belly exposed to the sky, his four stubby legs sticking straight up in the air, letting Kaelen finish wiping the front paws and move on to the hind paws. The cub’s usually cold and serious face now looked so dazed and helpless that it was almost unbearable to look at.

Sane stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the nearby stone pillar, watching his third son’s four-paws-in-the-air posture. The corners of his lips curled up in utter amusement, and he intentionally poked his finger lightly at the soft, heaving white furry belly:

"Lord God of Life, does it feel good to have your paws wiped?"

Finnick gritted his baby fangs, glaring at his biological father with a gaze as sharp as a razor, silently swearing that the very second he recovered his origin Divine power, the first thing he would do was turn back into an adult so he would never fall into such a humiliating situation again!

Only when Kaelen had dried his son’s fur from head to tail, and even used a wooden comb to brush the now fluffy and fragrant spotted coat before finally letting go, did Finnick quickly flip over and sit up. He adjusted his posture to look serious and then recounted the entire matter regarding Grand Apothecary Malakor and the blood sacrifice plan on Auction Island to his two fathers and Godfrey.

Upon hearing this, the expression of Godfrey, who was standing by in attendance, changed drastically:

"My three Lords, if they intend to use a grand blood sacrifice array to activate the parasitic worms... Then on that night, there will be at least over three thousand lives on the island, consisting entirely of grand nobles, lords, and leaders of major merchant guilds from across the East Coast and neighboring countries!"

"Not just the guests," Kaelen rested his chin on his hand in thought, his green eyes flashing with coldness: "That old Marcos and the members of the Council of Twelve Merchants have also been drinking the Immortality Elixir for decades to keep themselves alive. I’m afraid those merchants are still gleefully thinking they are about to divvy up the fortunes of the guests dying on the island, completely unaware that in the eyes of that Malakor, all Twelve Merchants are already on the God of Decay’s harvest menu!"

"It’s just dogs biting dogs," Sane sneered. "Of the nobles and merchants who come to Auction Island to buy the Immortality Elixir, which one of them doesn’t have blood on their hands? Which of them hasn’t spent money to buy Elven blood or trade in slaves? If they court death themselves, let them taste what it’s like to be bitten back by the very elixir of immortality they worship."

"Exactly." Kaelen nodded in agreement, tapping his finger lightly on the stone table to outline the plan: "There is no need for us to stop those people from going to the island. Wait until the auction night, when Malakor begins to activate the parasitic worms so that the entire hall can see with their own eyes what kind of disgusting monsters the so-called Immortality Elixir really is, we will then strike to lock down the grand array, capture Malakor alive, and bring the two thousand Elves from the basement up as living witnesses! Once the truth is exposed before the high society of all countries, the human-blood trading empire that the Merchant Council and the God of Decay painstakingly built on the East Coast will naturally collapse overnight!"

Finnick’s green eyes shone brightly:

"By then, not only will we rescue my people, but the survivors of the parasitic worm nightmare will hate the dark magic of the God of Decay to their very bones, and simultaneously submit sincerely to the true laws of Life!"

The next morning, exactly as predicted, the twelve piers of Silver Port fell into an unprecedented state of congestion as ships from all over the Great World flocked in for the Blood Moon Auction.

Standing on the mansion’s balcony looking down at the bay, one could see the warships flying the wolf-head and eagle banners of the three Northern kingdoms jostling for every parking spot. The three Northern kings fought year-round over territory, but all three were old, frail, and nearing the grave. Thus, every year they sent their princes and chancellors carrying dozens of chests of pure gold across the sea to Silver Port to vie for every single vial of Immortality Elixir.

At piers five and six were dozens of large reddish-brown galleons from the continent across the bay. The decks were crowded with burly, muscular slave drivers wielding scimitars; down in the holds were thousands of slaves newly captured from savage tribes, brought over to exchange for gold, silver, weapons, and the elixir of immortality.

Right on the main streets of Silver Port, convoys of gilded carriages belonging to the leading grand families of the other six autonomous cities on the East Coast also trailed one another toward the ferry leading to Auction Island.

Everyone was dressed luxuriously, wearing exquisitely carved masks of pure gold or white silver to conceal their identities, yet the eyes revealed behind the masks were all filled with greed and a maddening thirst for the two words "immortality".

Sane stood leaning against the marble railing, one arm wrapped around Kaelen’s waist. His deep purple eyes looked indifferently down at the throng of people pouring toward the port:

"Look, big fish and small fish alike have automatically swum into the trap. Tomorrow night on that island will certainly be very lively."