The Northern Emerald is situated in a region characterized by ice and snow throughout most of the year. It borders the vast Xisar Ice Field to the north and the formidable Kela River to the south.
Wangcheng Feiling, located in the north, experiences a cold and dry climate. Even in May, the air is so frigid that one's breath turns into clouds upon stepping outside.
Due to the presence of numerous underground frozen veins, the ground temperature in the city remains lower than that of the surface, resulting in a persistently damp environment.
In this inhospitable location, the Northern Emerald Kingdom has constructed a dungeon adjacent to the Frozen Vein. However, it fails to meet the standards of even the most basic facilities.
Kevin leisurely sat on the uneven ground, propping up his long legs and reclining against the cold stone wall of the dungeon. With his gaze fixed on his right hand, he carefully examined it.
This dungeon lacks any means of connection with the outside world, aside from a few minuscule openings in the roof. Feeble wall lamps are scattered sparsely along the corridor, their flickering flames seemingly on the verge of extinguishing forever.
In the dim light, Kevin's right hand appeared even more grotesque...
If such a distorted form could still be considered a hand.
The intact flesh came to an abrupt halt at the wrist, revealing a bloody wound underneath. Exposed were the incomplete white bones, some of which were missing sections of the metacarpal bone. Only two phalanges remained intact, whereas the rest appeared mangled, as though they had been gnawed upon by a dog.
Tsk, it's disgusting.
Kevin peered at his hand for a while, laughing at himself. He remarked, "Well, at least some bones remain."
Indeed, just minutes ago, there wasn't even a half-intact metacarpal bone that had been gnawed upon by a dog.
Suddenly, a scrawny mouse scurried out from a crevice in the stone, its coarse fur brushing against Kevin's blood-drenched wound. The taste was tangy and delightful.
Silently inhaling, Kevin glanced at the mouse and deftly flicked his fingers, causing the creature to scuttle a few steps away. In the blink of an eye, his previously mangled metacarpal bone seemed slightly more complete, sporting two extra knuckles on his middle finger.
The scrawny mouse emitted a squeak, startled either by the touch of the bone or Kevin himself, and scurried off in a different direction. However, it veered off course and collided with Oswald's muscular arm before hastily making its escape.
Oswald, lying on the ground, twitched his fingers twice, furrowed his brow, and with a moderate impact, opened his eyes. Briefly disoriented, he squinted and surveyed his surroundings before abruptly sitting up.
"Hiss—" Oswald pressed the wound on the back of his head, took a deep breath, and then raised his gaze to inquire, "Where on earth are we?"
Kevin nonchalantly flicked his left hand and responded, "Clearly, we're in a prison."
Concealing his unsightly right hand in the shadows behind him, it remained unseen from Oswald's perspective.
Kevin pointed to the emblem engraved next to the anklet's keyhole and added, "And specifically, in the dungeon of the Northern Emerald Kingdom."
Oswald's face darkened completely as he exclaimed, "After the sand ghost went to great lengths to capture people, we ended up being imprisoned by the Northern Emerald?"
This turn of events puzzled them. After all, the Northern Emerald is essentially deferential to the sand ghost devotee, serving as a barrier rather than an active contributor. More often than not, the people of the Northern Emerald Country are occupied and preoccupied, while the sand ghost reaps the benefits.
Upon further reflection, it appears that the relationship has transformed from one of complete followership to one of equal cooperation.
"With cooperation, the exchange of interests is vital. Perhaps the great and immortal Sapir in the Northern Emerald has suddenly obtained some advantage, like unearthing an unparalleled treasure..." Kevin played with the keyhole on the anklet as if contemplating how to open it forcefully.
"Speaking of exchanging benefits..." Oswald furrowed his brow and said, "What happened with that sand ghost today? Whoever touches it dies. What kind of joke are you making?! A mutation?"
Kevin responded nonchalantly, "Perhaps this is the result of exchanging benefits."
Oswald: "..."
"Please don't use such a tone to make such horrible guesses. Kindly refrain from making such dreadful assumptions, thank you."
Mi Ao's voice came muffledly from the adjacent room through the mouse hole, "I just woke up and overheard your conversation. It's giving me a headache worrying about it."
"Are you still alive?" Kevin asked in surprise.
Mi Ao: "...I am not entirely useless."
There was a sound of clothes rustling in the neighboring room, and after a moment, Mi Ao's voice moved closer to the wall, sounding much clearer, "To be honest, just one sand ghost like that could kill all of us! There are so many people, and if there were more, what kind of battle would we face..."
Who could defeat them?!