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The enormous magic circle nearly covered the ceiling and floor of the underground hall, with countless runes and intricate patterns carved even onto the massive stone pillars. At the center of this space, numerous hexagonal crystal columns of varying sizes bloomed like flowers, forming a raised platform. Upon it lay a two-tiered transparent coffin, inside which was Catherine.

However, this coffin was not meant for the dead. In fact, its interior was filled with a special liquid, from which tiny bubbles continuously rose. Enveloped in this fluid, the swordswoman's faint yet steady pulse proved that she was still alive and slowly recovering.

Beneath the crystal platform, the holy maiden Jin Luosha and the King of the Undead stood on opposite sides, gazing at the woman in the coffin.

Catherine's once heavily pregnant belly had now completely regained its slender form.

"It's all my fault... We were so close to the end, yet I couldn't save the child," Jin Luosha said, tears involuntarily streaming down her face. "Brother must be utterly heartbroken—that's why he rushed off alone to seek vengeance against the dragons."

In truth, after more than ten days of relentless effort, they had followed the previously devised treatment plan, gradually restoring the vitality of Catherine's internal organs and major muscle tissues. This allowed her to slowly heal by absorbing various magical medicinal solutions without relying on Chen Xuanfeng's true energy to sustain her. Unfortunately, after enduring over a hundred damage transfers, the fetus in her womb could no longer bear the strain. Its delicate soul dissipated completely after one severe injury, a situation even Jin Luosha's Grand Resurrection could not reverse.

At the same time, with the loss of the damage transfer target, Catherine's recovery now depended solely on her own strength. How long it would take remained unknown.

"You're mistaken, dear Saintess," the King of the Undead shook his head. "Our lord is indeed grieving, but his charge toward Sacred Dragon Mountain is only half for vengeance."

"Oh? Then what's the other half for?"

"To protect his wife, of course."

"What do you—ah!" Jin Luosha, after all, was a Saintess who had managed her own religious order. Previously lost in self-blame, she hadn't considered this. Now, with the King of the Undead's words, she understood. "Brother wants the entire continent to believe Sister Catherine is gone, so she can be better protected. After all, Sister has no means of defense right now. If enemies were to meticulously plot her assassination, it would be far too dangerous."

Though Qingcheng Fortress was heavily guarded, and Fontainebleau boasted several Saints, no fortress was absolutely secure. Even the catacombs of Saint Spirit Mountain, designed by the Twelve Sages and managed by the Radiant Holy Temple for centuries, had been infiltrated by Chen Xuanfeng—a mere Sword Sect master—who not only stole the divine artifact "Doomsday Horn" but also released the King of the Undead, a mighty Lich.

Thus, Chen Xuanfeng would never allow news of Catherine's recovery to leak before she fully regained her strength. If humanity learned of this, they would spare no effort to eliminate her. Chen Xuanfeng dared not underestimate the young marshal Enrico, who had orchestrated the assassination of Orc King Samanda. If Enrico mobilized the entire human world's resources against Catherine, the chances of success were terrifyingly high.

So, the moment Catherine's condition stabilized, Chen Xuanfeng urgently set off with Winter Night in his true Demon Dragon form toward Sacred Dragon Mountain. He aimed to conceal the truth of Catherine's survival through his actions. As for not bringing subordinates, it was partly to simulate the appearance of grief-driven frenzy and partly due to wariness of the entire dragon race's might. With Winter Night, he could fight or flee freely, whereas others would only hinder him.

Of course, unlike the King of the Undead's speculation, beyond these calculations, an even greater fury and agony burned in Chen Xuanfeng's heart. Especially when he recalled his unborn child's soul scattering and body shattering, he felt an urge to tear apart the heavens and earth, slaughtering all living things. This was another reason he left Qingcheng Fortress so quickly—lingering longer, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't draw his blades and first massacre his own subordinates.

The north wind howled, and snow danced across a thousand mountains.

The northern mountains housing Sacred Dragon Mountain were not as frigid as the Everfrost Tundra, yet their towering heights kept them perpetually snow-capped. The cold peaks were not favored by all dragons—at least, lava-bathing Red Dragons and massive Sea Dragons rarely ventured here willingly. Regardless, as the site where the Primordial Sacred Dragon, the Dragon God's avatar, once descended, this place held irreplaceable significance for the entire dragon race. Even now, with much of Sacred Dragon Mountain's garrison shifted to the human frontlines and all five Dragon Emperor Knights departed, formidable forces remained stationed here. And should anyone dare provoke Sacred Dragon Mountain, dragons from across the continent would swiftly arrive via teleportation arrays to tear the offenders to shreds.

Yet this day was destined to become a day of disgrace for all dragons.

The enemy arrived too swiftly and suddenly.

Moments after the humans and dragons guarding Sacred Dragon Mountain received word of Chen Xuanfeng's departure from Fontainebleau, a Demon Dragon's thunderous roar echoed over the mountain. Winter Night, son of the former Abyssal Dragon King, had assumed his true Demon Dragon form, his power surging. With sheer force, he teleported himself, the immensely powerful Chen Xuanfeng, and two legendary divine weapons directly into the enemy's heartland by hijacking Sacred Dragon Mountain's teleportation array.

This move was utterly unforeseen by the dragons. In this world, the more energy an object possessed, the harder it was to traverse space—especially for entities like supernatural beasts, legendary divine weapons, and Saints. Unless casting the spell themselves, a single teleportation could drain hundreds of mages. Thus, though they knew Sacred Dragon Mountain's teleportation array was open to all dragons—including Winter Night, a former White Dragon—they never considered shutting it down. They forgot, or perhaps never knew, that the bloodline of the Abyssal Dragon Kings were masters of spatial manipulation. How else could the previous Abyssal Dragon King cross dimensions from the demon realm to the mortal world? And how else could the "Dragonbane Sword," forged from an Abyssal Dragon King's horn, possess a skill like "Dragon Soul Space"? Thus, while Winter Night's assault seemed to expend astronomical amounts of magic, the actual cost was merely a fraction of what his foes estimated.