Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 1519 - 453: The Tyrant’s Feast

Chapter 1519: Chapter 453: The Tyrant’s Feast

After four days of arduous travel, Mizuno City on the Coast Contribution Continent finally came into view.

Liu Zhentian’s racing heart finally settled back into his chest.

In just a few short days of travel, he had already encountered two earthquakes on the Saint Helm Plain!

Not even the aftershocks of the Tangshan Earthquake in 1976, which rippled across the country, had been as terrifying as this—–the ground quaked furiously like a sieve shaking, fissures split the earth into endless chasms, spewing thick plumes of hazy dust like a volcanic eruption, obscuring vision in an oppressive gloom. The distant sky cracked with dry thunder, black clouds hung ominously overhead, yet there wasn’t a single flash of lightning to be seen.

Faced with such a scene, the four adventurers of the Demon Clan seemed unimpressed, sleeping soundly and eating heartily as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Poor Liu, who had never experienced anything like this, was forced to mask his inner turmoil with an air of nonchalance, all the while nervously swallowing his fear of being buried alive by some unexpected misstep.

At least he finally understood why, each night without fail, the Dungeon Archer Mafalena would dig a large pit into the earth for camp and place a bowl of water in the center. Apparently, staying inside a pit not only shielded them from the frigid nighttime cold but also served as a natural earthquake early-warning system!

In a world where days were scorchingly hot, nights bitterly cold, and natural disasters occurred frequently, Liu couldn’t help but marvel at the resilience of the Demon Clan, which had thrived up to this day despite everything.

Mizuno City was a sprawling tunnel-shaped metropolis built within the hollowed-out interior of a massive mountain—–the mountain was its city, and the city was its mountain. Surrounding it was the vast, desolate Saint Helm Gravel Plain, blanketed in sweeping wind and sand.

From tidbits of information unintentionally shared by his four companions, Liu Zhentian surmised that all Demon Clan cities were either constructed inside mountains or built underground; not a single one of them was located on the surface.

Upon entering Mizuno City, his eyes were met with densely packed residents, breathtaking architecture, and an unending array of artistic sculptures.

The Demon Clan seemed to hold an almost totemic reverence for bone-crafted objects. The statues lining the streets, toys and decorative items peddled by street vendors were all exquisitely carved from bone—–not a trace of barbarity or gore, but rather an intrinsic charm and elegance.

The atmosphere here was cultivated and serene, far removed from Liu Zhentian’s earlier mental image of a living hell full of grisly scenes of flesh hawked in public—–it seemed that Aegean Continent’s literary depictions had greatly demonized the Demon Clan’s culture.

Judging by the architectural style, Liu Zhentian could even discern traces of Aegean architecture in this city. From Gothic and Doric styles to the traditional bone-tomb design of the Demon World, all coexisted harmoniously within this urban space.

What Liu Zhentian couldn’t quite determine was whether this cultural fusion was a legacy left behind by the Demon Clan’s invasion of Aegean, or if it was Aegean’s culture that had subtly influenced the Demon Clan over time.

As he wandered the streets, Liu encountered every type of Demon Clan member familiar from his past memories, excluding the detestable warrior class.

These Demons were all mundane and business-minded—–nothing like the bloodthirsty savages described in the Aegean Canon.

Faced with such ordinary Demons, Liu Zhentian felt that even a single Summer Palace Warrior under his command could intimidate them to the point of not daring to breathe.

To his surprise, he even caught sight of Beamon and Dwarves amidst the crowd as he passed by!

Liu Zhentian couldn’t make sense of it. The Demon World continued to baffle him with its countless mysteries!

On the bustling streets, the "Heart of the Brave" adventure team was as plain and inconspicuous as a grain of sand. Such beleaguered adventure groups could be found anywhere, commonplace and ordinary; Liu deliberately concealed his aura, blending seamlessly into the environment to appear unremarkable and unassuming.

The four companions seemed visibly uneasy amidst the bustling Mizuno City. Their expressions and tones grew restrained as soon as they entered the city, and their eager gazes betrayed an underlying sense of inferiority, completely shedding the fearless, youthful zeal and bravado they exuded out in the wilderness.

Liu Zhentian was certain that if these four youngsters were carrying a hefty sum of money, their confidence would sprout like wild grass in springtime.

A large procession approached, with everyone dressed in new clothes, playing joyful and lively music. Many Obsidian Destroyers spread their wings in the sky, laughing, singing, and dancing jubilantly.

"What are they doing?" Liu asked Dungeon Archer Mafalena discreetly, noticing that the group was carrying a large wooden box resembling a coffin.

"A funeral procession," Mafalena replied.

"A funeral?" Liu was taken aback. Why was the Demon Clan so cheerful about someone’s death? Even their family members were singing and dancing?

"Another fellow has returned to the loving embrace of Demon God Nai’aozu. It’s truly a celebratory occasion," said the baby-faced Soreskia as he moved to the roadside with a sigh.

The cleric Shabi instinctively began reciting a hymn of praise.

This starkly contrasting worldview left Liu speechless for a long time, and he even began to feel a twinge of envy toward the Demon Clan.

Liu Zhentian realized he needed to reevaluate this unfamiliar world.

Soon, a pressing issue came to haunt the five members of the "Heart of the Brave" adventure team—–they were almost completely broke!

The Shell Coins they had scattered to fend off the Mutant Moria Leech earlier that day had all been snatched up and devoured by the dozens of fang-lined jaws on the Mutant Arcane Beast’s tentacles. Although they had salvaged a small portion afterward, they still needed money for teleportation arrays, food, and lodgings. The few remaining coins wouldn’t even cover meals and accommodations for five people, let alone get them to Casablanca to participate in the campaign for Left Bank King!