Captain – Chapter 559 – Visitor from Hell

There was no longer any need to listen intently. Caine stood up and came to the cave’s edge, looking toward that bottomless abyss, but all he could see was endless darkness.

Whether it was the faint light from the fragments at the cliff’s edge or the starlike gleams extending down the stone walls into the depths of the chasm, none could penetrate that dark veil—they could only dimly illuminate some airflow.

Those currents of decay that, though colorless, still stood out like fireflies in the night.

Beyond that, the young man could make out nothing else. Even the amazing vision granted by magic power seemed to lose its effect before this terrible abyss.

But the wind sounds and sharp noises continued to come.

One after another, getting closer, getting clearer, appearing so menacing in this desolate world.

As if some monster was crawling up from hell.

Caine stared fixedly at the source of the sounds, his right hand unconsciously falling to his sword hilt. In the depths of his blue eyes, blazing light flickered as great power moved silently.

Though he couldn’t see the uninvited guest in the darkness, the powerful intuition brought by his authority constantly reminded him that the thing was extremely dangerous.

Far more dangerous than imagination.

Could it be… the evil spirit the captain had mentioned?

Only after the “sky” collapsed and this place became true hell did it return to the world?

Thinking silently, the young man’s grip on his sword tightened. The light in his eyes, which had originally been like lightning across the sky—brief and fleeting—now gradually occupied everything, gradually dyeing that blue world into a blazing golden sea of fire.

He was only a follower, unable and impossible to become a true devil, but at least he should have approached the level of the girl when great power had blessed her in the past.

Not entirely without power to resist.

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If that thing was truly as he thought—a devil’s claw returning to the world, a danger lunging at the captain—then he didn’t mind blocking it here.

Even though he might have no chance of victory.

Seeming to sense Caine’s presence and feel his intent and threat, the visitor from hell paused in its movements. The wind sounds and sharp noises instantly vanished without a trace.

After a brief deathly silence, strange sounds arose again.

“Clatter, clatter…”

Only this time, no wind sounds accompanied it. The visitor no longer leaped and climbed freely, but approached cautiously, step by step.

Its claws pierced the stone walls with more force than before, bringing down countless fragments.

As if accumulating rage, planning to use claws and fangs sharp enough to tear through iron walls to make that “false god” who dared threaten and provoke it thoroughly regret when they met.

But at the same time, beneath this terrifying will, there existed heart-chilling caution.

Like a lion hunting a rabbit.

Gradually, besides the low sounds of falling debris, Caine could hear heavy breathing and powerful heartbeats, knowing that thing was already very close to him.

Perhaps less than twenty meters.

The moment this thought fell, the light in the young man’s eyes suddenly blazed. He tensed his entire body, his hand gripping the sword trembling constantly, ready to explode into action at any moment.

The reason he displayed such an attitude was because, from that dark veil of the abyss…

He saw a pair of eyes.

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Faced with such a sight, even in such a tense moment, Caine couldn’t help but silently marvel, because those eyes and this scene were truly too beautiful.

Those orbs were slightly rounded, entirely purple-violet in color, with fluorescent light flowing within them, like the finest gems, like a blazing sun rising from desperate straits.

Mist-like streams of light escaped from those pupils, making them appear even more hazy and mysterious.

Nobility and savagery, destruction and vitality, and many more obviously conflicting descriptions—yet when used to describe those eyes, they seemed so fitting.

Those eyes absolutely did not belong to mortal spirits. The secrets in their depths were far more ancient than the present world.

More distant than any known history.

The two beings, positioned high and low, faced off silently. The atmosphere immediately became heavy and tense, gradually making it difficult to breathe. But it was in such circumstances that Caine’s hand gripping the sword hilt unconsciously and gradually loosened.

Because he recognized the owner of those eyes. Though it should have perished in the valley depths, though he repeatedly thought “impossible,” he still released his grip.

Even his blazing eyes dimmed, returning to that gentle blue.

But contrary to his shock and relaxation, the savagery in those eyes didn’t decrease but increased. In just a brief moment, all the conflicting feelings within them disappeared.

Only indifference and torrents of destruction remained.

Accompanied by a deafening roar, the young man once again heard wind sounds—the creature was beating massive wings. The next moment, strong winds struck his face, forcing him to retreat several steps to avoid colliding with that rising black shadow.

Looking up at the giant shadow spreading its wings, watching it smash through the high-pressure water flow, watching it glide and circle at the cave ceiling, Caine’s gaze was very complex.

Because of the confusion filling his heart, and because that familiar creature he had spent days and nights with now seemed so strange, as if it no longer recognized him.

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Recalling the look he had seen earlier, the young man first felt danger—a warning from his bloodline—followed by confusion that couldn’t be dispelled.

Finally, the giant shadow descended, bringing terrible wind pressure as it landed before Caine.

The faint ghostly light and starlike gleams fell upon it, outlining a form filled with myth and legend, yet when it truly appeared, so fierce it made breathing difficult—a dragon six meters tall with a body length approaching twenty meters.

But unlike those in ordinary stories, its body wasn’t covered in hard fine scales. Instead, it had a thick, dark gray horny layer with protruding spikes that were remarkably sharp. What was even more surprising were its horns.

Those horns were extremely thick, slightly curved, with rounded tops that weren’t particularly sharp, yet filled with a sense of power, seeming indestructible.

The giant dragon faced the young man directly, its eyes still filled with destructive desire.

It slowly stepped forward, each step producing heavy, muffled sounds like drumbeats striking the heart. Only when Caine’s clothing was stirred by its heavy breathing did the dragon finally stop, beginning to examine him from its commanding height.

Those huge purple-violet eyes undisguisedly revealed some interest and provocation, as if waiting for him to summon magic power so it could crush his resistance.

But the young man did nothing, only quietly watching it. After a long while, he spoke in a low voice.

“You’ve grown quite a bit, Nidhogg.”

The dragon obviously understood his words, especially those four characters deeply etched in its heart. The purple light in its eyes flickered, and it unconsciously bared its fangs.

“I think I know what happened, but it’s all right now.”

Caine spoke softly, carefully extending his hand as if wanting to touch it.

Though the time for contemplation since the dragon’s appearance hadn’t been long, the young man had still reached a rough conclusion through traces in his memories.

Like Captain Enzo, in the long course of history, perhaps some had witnessed the true face of the Putrid Abyss, but absolutely no one would be foolish enough to willingly fall into it.

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So regarding the secrets of the decaying aura within, the vitality and passage of time, no one could know. The only thing Caine could trust was Vivian’s description of it, since it came from the Lady’s lips and should be closest to the truth.

According to that girl’s account, this abyss leading to hell would erode vitality.

But looking now, its method wasn’t like the wraith fire brought by the cannonballs shot from the Taranhof—complete burning from body to soul.

Rather, it changed the rules of time’s flow, similar to accelerating its speed.

Thus, the young dragon could crawl back from hell and possess its current physique.

Because for it, for eternal beings like it, the length of life was nearly infinite. As long as it didn’t fall into the River Styx, there would eventually come a moment when it could awaken again, then spread its cloud-like giant wings and return as before.

But no one knew what kind of pain it would bring to sink into that ocean of decay, letting the hands of time that penetrated deep into body and even soul be manipulated at will.

That might be more terrifying than death.

So it was angry, appeared savage, wanting to destroy everything it saw.

Faced with Caine’s comfort, the dragon stepped forward, letting out a suppressed roar at him. The wind it stirred made his tattered clothes flutter loudly.

Yet despite feeling the oppression brought by bloodline, standing in the shadow cast by the dragon, the young man didn’t retreat a single step. He still firmly raised his hand, even though the next moment he might be torn apart by the dragon’s sharp teeth.

“Trust me, it’s all right now…”

Caine’s voice was somewhat hoarse, sounding gentle and humble, almost like a murmur.

“Nidhogg.”