Fire Mage-Chapter 659: Camping

Chapter 659: Camping

"So, as long as I avoid entering a Demigod’s Divine Kingdom, I can still hold my ground?" he asked.

"You’d best investigate their background first. What if that Demigod has a billion believers?" Alistair replied.

At that, Charles thought of Udnir’s avatar.

He’s right.

"Let’s go," Alistair said suddenly, turning eastward.

By then, the sun had vanished beyond the horizon, blanketing the world in darkness.

"We’ll camp here," he declared as they arrived near a grove of acacia trees, desert lilies, and palms.

"We’re only five kilometers from the destination. Whether we fight the Boss tomorrow or later depends on the ballot I’ll conduct in the morning."

As the sky darkened, the group pitched their tents around a tall acacia tree. A campfire was soon lit at the center of the gathering.

Meanwhile, Nyx retrieved an ancient book from his space ring and began chanting in a strange tongue.

The chant lasted over an hour. When it ended, he poured his Wisdom Power into the tome, activating its hidden ability.

A moment later, a shimmering forcefield bloomed outward, forming a protective dome around the camp that stretched over 200 meters in diameter.

Charles, while setting up his own tent, silently observed every detail of Nyx’s actions. His eyes narrowed with interest.

This spell... it’s more than ten times as complex and powerful as [Ignis Sanctuary].

He smirked inwardly.

This guy is almost on my level. I should use this opportunity to get close to everyone and cast the [Curse of the Overlord] spell on them.

With that, he casually approached a nearby tent and began assisting its occupant, all the while striking up conversations in fluent Blen Tongue.

Thanks to their deep cultural reverence for their native language, Charles found it surprisingly easy to gain their trust.

One by one, he subtly cast the [Curse of the Overlord] spell, wrapping invisible chains of influence around their minds.

As the campfire crackled to life, he drank and laughed with the others, even preparing dishes from Earth’s cuisine—earning admiration and curiosity in equal measure. Alistair joined in as well, raising toasts and sharing stories.

But Nyx remained distant. Even when Charles attempted to speak with him directly, the man walked off without a word—like a cold neighbor unwilling to share a glance.

Not an easy one, Charles mused, watching from a distance as the group reveled in laughter and warmth. Quietly, he returned to his tent.

Inside, the Shadow Princess had awakened. Her gaze remained fixed on him—unblinking, observant.

Hungry? What do snakes even eat?

[I advise the host to feed her small magical insects or lizard-type beasts.]

You’re alive? I thought you’d gone mute, Charles quipped mentally, shaking his head with a grin.

Extending his Wisdom Power, he scanned the surroundings for suitable prey.

Before long, he found three small scorpions, two fist-sized beetles, and two garden lizards. He placed them before her.

She devoured them instantly.

Her appetite, however, was insatiable.

Noticing the commotion, a few members came over, curious.

"What kind of snake is that, Charles?" Rowan asked, chuckling. "She’s so small, but she’s eaten enough to burst!"

"She’s a Rank-1 Magical Beast I found in the previous layer," Charles replied, watching her with a soft smile. "But now, I think of her as family."

"You’re a strange one." Rowan smirked. "Come, let’s go hunt for more prey. I wouldn’t mind lighting a cigar either."

"You can’t smoke here?" Charles asked, raising a brow.

"Lord Alistair doesn’t care, but Nyx? He’s strict. If he catches me smoking, he’ll give me double work as punishment."

"Tough crowd."

With a shared chuckle, the two slipped past the forcefield and ventured into the drylands.

Above, a moon-like star loomed high, casting a silver hue over the cracked earth. The night air was thick, filled with distant sounds of nocturnal creatures, adding an eerie tension to their journey.

Rowan led the way, his movements confident, his tracking skills honed by centuries. Charles followed, his thoughts elsewhere.

"So, Charles," Rowan finally broke the silence. "What’s your story? How’d you end up in the Dungeon of Star Tombs?"

He lit a cigar with a matchstick, the flame briefly illuminating his face.

Charles pondered a moment before answering. "It’s a long story... but to keep it short, I’m after something called the Star Monarch’s Key. Ever heard of it?"

"Star Monarch? Can’t say I have. But Alistair might know. Just... wait until Nyx isn’t around before you ask." He exhaled a slow stream of smoke and kept walking.

Charles nodded, smiling faintly. "Fair enough. I’ll take your advice."

They continued through the desolate terrain. Creatures scurried through the shadows, responding to their presence with sharp rustles and quiet growls.

Eventually, they reached a clearing where iridescent lizard-like creatures fought viciously, hissing and releasing a visible, poisonous gas.

"Venom Emberlizards," Rowan murmured, his tone filled with intrigue. "Didn’t expect to see them here."

"Just Rank-1 beasts, right?" Charles asked, raising a brow.

"They are... but their poison can kill a Legend Rank in seconds. Rare, too. These things only survive in extreme environments. In over five thousand years, I’ve only seen them thrice on the market."

"What are they used for?"

Instead of replying, Rowan quietly notched an arrow. His expression turned sharp with focus.

With a swift release, the arrow transformed mid-flight—splitting into dozens of greenish clones that rained down with pinpoint precision, felling the lizards instantly. The remaining ones scattered.

Charles blinked. "That was... impressive."

Rowan grinned. "Years of practice. Come, let’s collect our dinner."

"We’re eating that?" Charles looked skeptical.

"Their flesh, when processed right, becomes highly nutritious. With the right enchantments, the poison turns into a magical catalyst. A skilled potion master can make it into a dish that boosts strength permanently. Lord Alistair will be thrilled."

He began spraying a neutralizing potion on the fallen creatures.

"Don’t touch them barehanded," he warned. "Even with the poison neutralized, best not to risk it."

Charles retrieved four of the bodies using magic and tucked them into his space ring.

"Keep this quiet," Rowan said as he stored the rest. "Alistair’s fine, but others might get... ideas. Nyx, especially—he’s selfish and narrow-minded."

They hunted a few more magical lizards before returning to camp, the night whispering secrets around them.

Back at the campfire, conversations flowed freely. Alistair gave them a nod but raised an eyebrow at the sight of Rowan.

Without a word, Rowan dropped several Venom Emberlizard corpses near the fire.

"You hunted these?" Alistair asked, eyes widening. He nodded in approval. "Store them in your space ring. The Patriarch might reward you."

Rowan hesitated, his eyes drifting to the snake coiled around Charles’s neck.

Noticing his glance, Alistair smirked. "Want to feed her? Go ahead. I assume Charles helped too."

"Yeah. This should keep our scaly friend happy," Rowan said, handing one over.

Before anyone could blink, the Shadow Princess vanished from Charles’s neck and reappeared near the Emberlizard, swallowing it whole in one fluid motion.

Even Charles barely saw her move.

"Is... is she really Rank-1?" Alistair’s expression shifted. There was awe and concern.

Rowan leaned in and whispered something to him.

"Star Monarch?"

Alistair clutched his chest, eyes wide in sudden pain.

"My Lord?" Rowan’s voice cracked with alarm.

Tears streamed down Alistair’s face as he gasped for air, then gradually composed himself.

"I’m... fine. Strange. I’ve never felt pain like that before."

He turned to Charles, massaging his chest.

"Even just saying that title... made the Divinity of Hunting inside me tremble in fear." His voice dropped to a hush. "Whoever holds that title... is no ordinary man."

Then, he fell silent, lost in deep thought.

"Charles, although I’ve never heard of a Star Monarch, I do have a theory about the title ’Monarch,’" Alistair said thoughtfully.

"You’ve got someone in mind?" Charles’s curiosity sharpened.

Alistair turned his gaze to Rowan and spoke in a steady tone.

"Have you heard about the origin of the fallen Star Empire? The man who founded it once entered this tower. He found some great fortune after reaching the Fifth Layer. No one knows why he named his kingdom ’Star Empire,’ but many assumed it was out of respect for the Dungeon of Star Tombs. But what if it wasn’t about the dungeon at all? What if he was honoring the ’Star Monarch’?"

"You mean... the Star Monarch is the fallen god of the Fifth Layer?" Charles asked.

"No. The Fifth Layer’s fallen god was called Moravian—the Nether God. He ruled over death, soul, and shadow. This... Star Monarch is something else. Someone even stronger than a fallen god." Alistair pressed his palm over his chest as though feeling something deep and unfamiliar.

"My heart didn’t stir when I spoke the names of High Gods or even fallen gods. But this... just saying the name feels unnatural. Whoever this being is—he might be the creator of this dungeon itself."

A heavy silence fell over the group.

Noticing their stares, Alistair gave a forced cough and broke the tension.

"Just speculation. I could be wrong. Charles, your priority should be to find your companion on the Fourth Layer and then move to the Fifth. You might get answers there."

"What about you all?" Charles asked.

"Once we defeat the Fallen Jinn, we’ll explore the Fourth Layer for the next thirty days and leave with whatever we can carry. That’s the limit of our current strength," Alistair said with a chuckle as he stood up.

"Let’s rest. Tomorrow, we fight."

He turned and walked toward the farthest tent.

Charles bid farewell to Rowan and returned to his own.

Inside, he quietly took out a mat from his space ring, placed a pillow beneath his head, and lay down in thought. Meanwhile, the Shadow Princess silently slid onto his chest and curled up, falling asleep like a harmless child.