When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 696 - 654: Underground Palace Beneath Celestial Maiden City

The stone door slowly opened, water droplets sliding down the moss from the wall, bringing with it the pungent smell of damp rot and sulfur.

Horn-style clogs stepped on the cold, damp steps, while Ottatila pressed her hands against her lower abdomen, her white fitted long dress billowing in the chilly, damp wind.

Passing through the underground corridor, she halted, standing before the cliff within the mountain.

No one would have imagined that beneath the Celestial Maiden Palace nestled in the low hills, there lay an abyss-like giant pit, as if ready to swallow people whole into a bottomless Fire Prison.

This giant pit has a radius of about seventy to eighty meters and a depth of about thirty meters, accessible via a Z-shaped stone staircase leading deep underground.

This pit is quite peculiar; rather than calling it a pit, it's more like an inverted half tower.

With the light from her torch, Ottatila could clearly see that this giant pit was not a perfect circle but a semicircle.

Directly across from her was an almost vertical cliff, as if someone had split it straight down the middle with a sword.

Raising the torch emitting an orange-yellow glow, a faint pine resin scent lingered in the air. She didn't wait long before she heard a hissing sound emanating from the darkness.

"I want to pass through," Ottatila calmly spoke to the abyss within the darkness.

Amid the rustling of slithering snakes, a pair of blue spindle-shaped pupils abruptly emerged from the darkness.

"Your name."

"Ottatila Li Lattavia," Ottatila pricked her finger with a needle, squeezing out a drop of fresh blood onto the mottled mossy stone slab.

A blue snake tongue swept over the blood, and after a while, a cold voice with a whistle emanated from the darkness: "You may pass."

As guardians, these long-tailed lizard men, or rather Snake-men, had diligently fulfilled their duty since Ottatila first came here.

But she knew well that these fearsome Snake-men would use cruel methods to divide and devour the flesh and blood of intruders when outsiders entered.

Clenching her torch tightly, Ottatila's knuckles turned slightly white from the exertion.

Though her expression remained indifferent, as she stepped onto the stairs, the rhythm of her heartbeat involuntarily accelerated by half a beat.

In the oppressive, damp air, within the empty giant pit, there was only the crisp sound of Ottatila's footsteps.

On the half-embedded rock wall, half-suspended square stone steps, the firelight reflected a gray-blue sheen in the orange glow.

The first time Ottatila stepped onto the stairs at thirty, she still felt panic and fear, but now at seventy, she only had indifference and calmness.

As the lifelong chairwoman of the Witch Council, Ottatila's first act upon being elected, like the Pope putting on the Triple Crown, was to come here.

Similarly, both Ottatila and the Pope must carry the secrets of the Underground Palace and the Triple Crown to either the Fire Prison or the Celestial Kingdom.

Though this was the most important place in Celestial Maiden City, Ottatila did not come often.

After all, Grandma Cynthia was erratic and always had a bad temper.

She understood that after staying in the dark Underground Palace for hundreds or thousands of years, anyone would go mad.

Understanding did not mean she could change Grandma Cynthia's situation, so Ottatila did not come frequently.

But today, she had to come.

Under the threat of the holy war in the Clove Corridor, she needed enough self-preservation and also wisdom from this neurotic elder.

The sugar and grain trade, the relationship with Thousand River Valley, the clouds of war, and the Holy Axis exhausted the Ottatila who devoted herself to maintaining peace in Black Snake Bay.

She intended to support Moliat, the elusive mind witch, unifying Thousand River Valley and Black Snake Bay, which should be a huge step for Black Snake Bay.

Unfortunately, this honor was snatched by another group disguised as the secret faction of Miseria's church heretics, forcing power to continue being shared externally.

With this group's conduct and their search for the Scales Hermitage, Ottatila had to suspect that their so-called Saint's Grandson was actually from the Scales Hermitage.

Thus, she was somewhat repelled by the Holy Axis.

Compared to the unfamiliar Horn, she preferred Louise's daughter—Moliat, whom she was more familiar with.

But surprisingly, Moliat's attitude was to share power with Horn, which made Ottatila suspect whether the secret message had been swapped.

Yet she now had to consider Horn's existence and its implications.

Not just because of the sugar and grain trade proposed by this Saint's Grandson and the financial and political talents he exhibited after coming to power, but also because of the near-thousand-members alchemist group under him.

Ottatila's Witch Council hadn't managed to control nearly a thousand alchemists.

According to existing intelligence, this Salvation Army had three witches—Jeanne of lightning magic, Hilov of divination and microscope magic, and that androgynous witch Horn.

Initially, when Ottatila obtained this intelligence from Patrick, she was skeptical.

Under the rule that "witches must be women," believing a man became a witch was too much against common sense, so it was more credible to believe in an androgynous person.

But Patrick's own credibility made the intelligence quite dubious.

However, after confirmation through Moliat's letters, Ottatila had no choice but to believe it.

The first witch birthed by a witch, the first androgynous witch, this place Thousand River Valley is truly remarkable.

The damp, stinking wind brushed against her face, pulling Ottatila from her reverie, and she finally reached the bottom of the underground palace.

In the dim light of Ottatila's lowered torch, a faint mist gently shifted, illuminating the rugged rock walls with flickering brilliance.

The firelight cast floating shadows on the rocks, and the wind hissed through the crevices, making strange, eerie noises.

Though there was only a single, monotonous torch at the moment, one could still see the massive shadow lurking on the circular platform at the pit's bottom.

Raising the torch, Ottatila took a deep breath and stepped forward, "Grandma Cynthia, we need blood."

Suddenly, there was a slight disturbance at the edge of the firelight, and a deep, heavy breathing came from the darkness.

At the very bottom of the pit, under the dim glow of the torch, a massive figure lying on the cold ground raised its long neck, exhaling a stream of hot steam.

Pale red scales appeared as if coated with a layer of amber, reflecting a golden-red glow in the firelight.

A triangular head, imposing golden snake pupils, and occasional sparks spouted from its mouth and nose.

This was undeniably a dragon, a dragon thought to be extinct before the El people arrived!

The rumors were true; there really was a dragon beneath the Celestial Maiden City.

Contrary to rumors, though, this dragon was not imprisoned nor bound by chains, but rather free to move its body.

Her wings drooped to the ground, covered in dust and cracks.

If the dwarves from the Dragon Worship Sect were here, they would surely frenziedly bow before the name of the dragon, but Ottatila simply stood tall and silent: "We need more blood."

"Blood! Ah, just blood!"

"Old lady's blood will run dry for you all!"