What now?

Lin Jun was truly dumbstruck.

No matter how he thought about it, this Dragonkin must be that Ancient Dragon’s daughter, right?

Yes—daughter. He had checked just now.

Covered in heavy scales, with features that looked androgynous, he hadn’t been able to tell before.

But that was just a detail.

The real problem was… fusion parasitism couldn’t be undone.

Her condition was like Dylan’s—parasitized, but not yet pushed over the edge into becoming a puppet.

Would it still work if he shoved her back through another rift?

“Your kid’s only half-parasitized, I’m returning her now!”

Yeah, right. He could already imagine his true body being chopped into four pieces by dragon claws and separately roasted, frozen, smashed, and melted.

Speaking of which, where was the Ancient Dragon’s true body?

The deep zones?

Probably not. He had no intel, but the monsters spilling from that rift were too different from the Amethyst Dungeon’s types.

Maybe it was another monster gathering ground—or even another dungeon altogether?

He’d have to ask Dylan later.

If it really was another dungeon, could that Ancient Dragon actually emerge?

Earlier, the arcs of lightning from the dungeon had repelled its claw, but the dragon had only taken a scratch. It hadn’t been fighting seriously at all.

If it really had a way to break through dungeon laws, even hiding in the fifth floor wouldn’t keep him safe.

Being targeted by an Ancient Dragon… was beyond terrifying.

Thankfully, things hadn’t gone past the point of no return yet.

For now, it was only parasitized—not fully made into a puppet.

And surely, the dragon didn’t yet know its daughter’s exact condition.

There was still room to salvage this.

Hopefully…

——

“Ugh… what a mess…”

Dylan had just returned to Yafeng Town, and the sight before him made him shudder.

Charred beams and broken walls leaned against one another, collapsed columns speared into neighboring rooftops.

The once-bustling streets were now ribbons of rubble. Even the Adventurers’ Guild’s granite hall stood reduced to only a few lonely pillars jutting skyward.

Half the town was gone.

Walking through the streets, his boots stuck to dried blood, too much of it to tell whether it came from monsters or people.

Corpses lay scattered, and others were busy gathering them up.

After the monster tide, the United Kingdom and the Adventurers’ Guild had jointly issued reconstruction tasks.

Most of those here were hired workers.

In the town center lay the headless carcass of a massive three-headed serpent.

Poison pooled around it, keeping anyone from daring to approach.

Rumor said the Guild of Relics’ chairman had rushed here alone in advance.

He had slaughtered most of the monsters that had broken into the town, preventing even greater destruction.

Even so, many townsfolk had died, and adventurers fared even worse.

Less than one in five survived from those who had taken the gate defense job.

Lucky he had obeyed his boss’s orders and taken the task of searching for the duke’s daughter instead.

Otherwise, with his strength, he would’ve been among the dead.

The town might be rebuilt one day, but it would never be as lively again.

Further ahead, one building stood almost intact. Dylan clicked his tongue.

“The Rotten Willow Tavern actually survived!”

Though a wall had collapsed and burn marks scarred its exterior, compared to the ruins next door, it was a miracle.

Stepping inside, he expected wreckage, but someone was already there.

“Kol! You got back so fast?”

The tavernkeeper glanced up, saw it was Dylan, and snorted before returning to fixing a broken chair leg.

“Don’t tell me you never left?”

Kol finally replied. “At my age? Run where? If the tavern’s gone, I’d rather be cut down with it.”

Dylan gave him a thumbs up. A hardcore old man. And absurdly lucky to still be alive.

“But with the town in ruins, how much business can you still have?”

Kol rubbed his red nose, unconcerned.

“As long as the Amethyst Dungeon exists, this place will recover.”

“So we can enter again already?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course not. The announcement says it’ll stay sealed for half a month.”

Dylan clicked his tongue. Another two weeks stuck on the surface?

That was bad. He was running out of money.

He had only brought five gold coins total, never expecting to be away this long.

Chugging mana potions every day, his savings had nearly evaporated.

He missed the dungeon’s fungal coffins already…

At the counter, he grabbed a cup and poured himself some ale from the barrel.

“There’s no real way to make money around here, is there?”

“Money? Isn’t everyone outside already working on that?”

“Ahh—” The sour brew burned down his throat, making his neck hairs prickle in a good way. “Kol, you know I don’t mean hauling bricks.”

Kol set aside his carpentry, eyeing Dylan.

“What, broke already?”

Dylan nodded. “Dead broke. Need cash fast.”

“Well…” Kol looked around. The tavern was empty but for them. “There is something you could do.”

The cellar door creaked as they descended.

He led Dylan to a massive barrel.

“Take this lot to Sailcloth Harbor. Three gold now, seven when the buyer pays. Deal?”

He pried open the lid.

Inside was a trove of monster parts and adventurer gear, still sticky with blood.

The stench made Dylan recoil. “You old bastard, stripping the dead?”

Clearly, these were looted from corpses—blatant law-breaking.

“Just say yes or no.”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I?”

If he didn’t earn coin, he’d die of mana exhaustion anyway.

“But this much? I can’t haul it alone. You won’t send me down the main road with a wagon, right?”

Kol sealed the barrel again.

“Of course not. Come back tonight. Four men, one sack each, straight through the western forest.”

“What if monsters are still roaming there?”

“Why else do you think I’m paying ten gold? Charity?”

Dylan nodded. Fair point.

When he left the Rotten Willow, three gold heavier, he headed straight to buy a mana potion for the road.

What he didn’t know was that among the bloodied spoils Kol had shown him, there was also a human-skin book faintly pulsing with magic.