Who Designed This Underworld Dungeon?-Chapter 1011 - 665: Confused, Baffled, and Astonished

After the war, Black Stone City lay in ruins, and people everywhere were cleaning up the battlefield, with various professionals running around busy with their tasks to clean up the mess.

Although Black Stone City was now chaotic, compared to the Imperial Capital, where almost four-fifths of the area had turned into ruins, they could be considered rather fortunate.

Even more fortunate was that Black Stone City had added two new city wonders.

Perhaps in the future, tourism alone could recover today's losses!

"So, can anyone tell us what exactly happened?"

Standing dumbfounded by the teleportation portal, Fudolin's group, or rather the dragons, were bewildered in the wind.

"Hey, don't block the door, others want to come out too!"

These dozens of dragons were blocking the teleportation portal, causing dissatisfaction among the adventurers coming out behind them.

"Oh oh, sorry..."

Fudolin and the group obediently scattered to the side, making way for the adventurers using the teleportation portal, still with a look of bewilderment in their eyes.

Perhaps it was because their brains couldn't successfully process the complex situation before them, leading to a breakdown, turning these dragons into obedient children.

You can't blame them; anyone would find the current situation peculiar.

Initially, everyone thought they would face a heroic and tragic final battle upon coming out, fighting to the death in the night with fallen friends and relatives, encountering epic scenarios such as falling out with kin, slaying infected teammates, and covering each other to escape.

Finally, either drive the plague away with a triumphant song celebrating victory, or fight to the last dragon infected by the plague atop the corpse mountain blood sea.

However, now, what is this situation?

Those claiming to clean the battlefield are actually using it as an opportunity to loot, pursued everywhere by guards, along with cheerful onlookers shouting encouragement—isn't this all too relaxed? Upon closer inspection, the crowd of spectators are all from Yanor Kingdom—is everyone over there like this?

Are these the sounds of laughter that background civilians should make after a great battle? Did you eat too many happiness eggs? Show some grief, you bastard!

Maybe, it's because the people of Yanor have been numbed by the Black Hawk's Chaos and various disasters.

But even disregarding the relaxed atmosphere of the Yanor people, the situation in Black Stone City seems odd too.

What does that golden glimmering symbol covering half the city on the ground mean?

Where did the magic fog, which almost enveloped the entire warrior country, go?

Most importantly...

Fudolin pointed to the conspicuously golden tree in the distance, twitching at the corners of her mouth and eyes, asking, "Have you seen that thing before?"

Abel slapped himself, looked up again, and the golden tree still stood there, so he rubbed his eyes and murmured to himself:

"Not an illusion, nor a dream, how did the golden tree really come out?"

In a blink, he made a shocking guess:

"Could it be that Sain Dungeon assimilated the entire Black Stone City!?"

"That's all wrong. You dragons have time to imagine but not to hurry and help with disaster relief in the Imperial Capital."

A dragon knight, forced to land here due to the "battle" between Radagon and Younka, spoke to the dragons:

"The Imperial Capital has almost turned into ruins, severely lacking manpower. If you can help, it would be greatly appreciated."

Finally meeting someone familiar, Abel hastily caught the dragon knight and asked about the current situation.

The dragon knight explained the origins step by step.

"Sain Dungeon went berserk, and a red-haired tough guy crushed Younka...."

"Those entirely black dragons were drawn in by the dragon roar from Sain Dungeon and haven't come out yet..."

"Your esteemed tribal leader got infected and is still inside the dungeon and hasn't come out..."

The narrative from the dragon knight finally let the dragons understand what had happened.

"Abel, I'm a bit dizzy now," Moer said, holding his head, "It feels like jumping several chapters ahead in a book and not understanding anything."

Nonetheless, although their minds were still muddled, they at least understood the situation now thanks to the explanation.

"So, their grandfathers are now inside the dungeon with the demon dragon, unaware of what's happened, while they can't find them and are powerless..."

Abel, rubbing his head while analyzing the situation, fervently wished he could convince himself it was all a dream and sleep away the complexity, but the healing grace from the golden tree energized him immensely.

"Well, okay, I think I know what we need to do now." Abel exhaled, saying:

"Since it was the battle of the tribal leaders that caused the destruction of the Imperial Capital, we must bear part of the responsibility...Call everyone still in the dungeon; let's go to the Imperial Capital and help with disaster relief."

Although the disaster could be completely blamed on the demon dragon, Abel, Moer, and the others did not do so.

Having lived with the people of this land for ages, they already learned to share joys and hardships.

Moreover, somehow, the laziness that forced them to procrastinate and slack off disappeared upon coming out, making them full of energy, likely the same for other dragons.

Thus, under their summoning, most of the dragons that entered the Dungeon came out, ready to carry the volunteers from Black Stone City to the Imperial Capital to help.

"Is Mom in there too..."

Fudolin glanced back at the Teleportation Gate of Sain Dungeon, realizing there was nothing she could do to solve the problem at the moment, she gritted her teeth and turned to leave with the main group.

She only hoped that Sain Dungeon could show mercy, and if a miracle could happen, she truly wished to see her healthy and normal mother upon her return.

Fudolin had always listened to Luluwo's ramblings, saying that Sain Dungeon was a place that could bring about miracles, although the daily interactions with this Dungeon could drive one to curse it in frustration.

But when truly facing life's challenges, going to this Dungeon would certainly bring about a miracle that could make someone laugh.

However, before she saw her healthy mother, Fudolin had to do one thing:

To clean up the mess for her mother as much as possible.

"Grandpa, you must hold on," Abel stood by the Teleportation Gate, praying:

"Although it's terrifying inside Sain, you should be used to getting hit, right? You must come back alive."

Everyone sent their most sincere blessings to those they were concerned about.

Most of the issues here in Black Stone City were building damages, and recruiting a group of Civil Engineering Magicians could solve the problems well, rebuilding the city wouldn't take much time.

However, the situation in the Imperial Capital was different. For other places, building damage could be a major loss, but for the Imperial Capital, it was the least of the problems.

When Abel and the others arrived above the Imperial Capital and saw that most of it had turned into ruins, their mood became very complex. The joy they had from Black Stone City quickly vanished, the shadows they cast frightened countless people, making them think the Mad Dragon had returned.

But when they saw clearly that it was Abel and the others, the commotion slowly decreased.

The volunteers riding on the dragons began disaster relief efforts, and the dragons, based on their skills, started helping too, their strong bodies making them natural engineering machinery.

The whole relief process was quite smooth, and the public welcomed their arrival.

No "Your Dragon Clan's fight destroyed my house/property/family" kind of citizen accusations against Abel and the others occurred, which would really raise blood pressure if it did.

Apart from the Dragon Clan, the army, adventurers, and active members from various industries joined in, and Temude and Lanle also arrived with their subordinates, fully demonstrating the Warrior Country's unity.

"Your Majesty, the disaster's severity is too great, and the losses cannot be calculated at once..."

Sitting amid the Royal Palace's ruins, King Banto gazed wistfully at the sky, unsure if the guard reporting nearby was even listening to his words.

In fact, Banto was listening, and he understood the current situation.

Besides the damage to vast areas of buildings, a more serious issue was—

The death of talents with high magical potential.

They became sacrifices during Younka's transformation, serving as nutrients for his growth, drained of their spiritual power.

To outsiders, those drained of spiritual power appeared dead; however, a significant number had their spiritual power absorbed hastily by Younka, incompletely, leaving them alive.

However, they ended up entirely as Plant-men, with no means to awaken them.

This group of people had emerged as key figures of the future Warrior Country amidst the Warrior Reform, and now they're all gone...

The achievements from years of Warrior Reform vanished with them.

Younka initiated the reform, and ultimately took the results with him, which didn't seem all that problematic.

It's hard to say what attitude Banto holds towards Younka currently, undoubtedly with predominantly negative feelings, but today's myriad of events left his mind blank.

After deploying the military for disaster relief, he sat here in a daze.

The dream of making the Warrior Country great again seemed shattered by the show Younka orchestrated, perhaps unattainable during his reign.

Did he trust Younka too much in the end?

In light of this event, he can no longer face Younka's contributions to Warrior Reform and Fighting Qi transformation techniques directly.

Moreover, after Younka's incident, it's difficult not to suspect some pitfalls with the Fighting Qi transformation technique.

He no longer dares to advance the Warrior Reform.

"Your Majesty, although Younka committed treacherous acts, his research outcomes were not wrong; with some guidance, they could be put on the right path."

A familiar voice came from the side, and as Banto turned, he saw a tall, skinny, young magician with a proud expression.

But wasn't he sweating a bit too much? It seemed as if he had been running for a long time.

"Are you... Younka's apprentice?" Banto recognized the newcomer.

"Yes, I am Edgar," Edgar respectfully bowed and said, "It's an apprentice's necessary responsibility to make amends for the former mentor's mistakes."