I Can Extract Game Items

Chapter 171 The Monarch



Chapter 171 The Monarch

A crowd had gathered, cheering and jeering as two bloodied figures exchanged savage blows.

The fighters were bare-handed since magic was suppressed by the Hollow Dusk's unique aura.

The brutality of their combat was shocking incredibly shocking to witness.

One of the fighters who was a bulky man with a scarred face, landed a devastating punch that sent his opponent crashing to the ground.

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The crowd erupted in cheers as the fallen fighter tried to crawl away, only to be grabbed and have his neck snapped with a sickening crack.

"And that's the end of him!" a grizzled man in the crowd shouted with a burst of laughter as two larger figures dragged the corpse away and dumped it unceremoniously into a dark pit nearby.

The dark pit was filled with mangled corpses as well and had developed a nauseating smell.

The masked figure turned to August. "Told you this was a bad idea. This place is madness."

August's expression remained calm. "Madness or not, I'm not leaving without finding Sir Dumblore. He's gotta be here somewhere—"

The masked figure sighed. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you."

They moved through the settlement with August keeping his hood low to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. He approached several people, asking about Sir Dumblore and giving descriptions of his facial appearance but the responses ranged from suspicious glares to outright hostility.

At one point, a gaunt man with hollow eyes sneered at him. "Dumblore? Ain't heard that name before. And if you're smart, you'll stop asking before someone decides to shut you up for good."

August ignored the warning and continued his search. The masked figure stayed close, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

Suddenly, a wiry man with a knife lunged at August from a shadowy corner. "You've got a death wish, asking too many questions around here!"

August swerved towards the left, evading the attack with ease, and grabbed the man's wrist. He twisted it until the knife clattered to the ground and then shoved the man against the wall, pinning him there.

"I don't have time for this," August growled. "If you want to keep that hand, you'd better start talking. Where's Sir Dumblore?"

The man whimpered in fear as his bravado crumbled. "I—I don't know! I swear! But if he's still alive, he'd be in the lower levels. That's where they keep low-numbered prisoners."

August released him, causing him to slump to the ground. "Thanks for nothing."

The masked figure chuckled softly. "You're making a lot of enemies fast, Aleman."

"It's part of the job," August replied while brushing off his cloak. "Let's keep moving."

As they made their way deeper into the settlement, the oppressive atmosphere grew heavier. The shadows seemed to stretch longer, and the air was thick with tension.

Eventually, they came to a small open area where a crude stage had been set up. A group of enforcers stood guard with weapons in their grasp.

A man with an imposing presence, clearly one of the settlement's leaders, addressed the crowd.

"All new arrivals will assemble here tomorrow morning!" he declared. "The monarch has business to discuss, and you will listen. Disobedience will not be tolerated."

One of the enforcers handed August and the masked figure strange metal tags, which they were instructed to wear at all times. "Lose these, and you'll regret it," the enforcer growled.

August pocketed the tag for now, still focused on the task at hand.

As they moved away from the crowd, his attention was drawn back to the fighting ring, where another brutal match had just concluded. The victor stood bloodied but triumphant, while the corpse of the loser was dragged away.

"This place is truly a nightmare," August muttered.

"And yet you're still here," the masked figure shook his head. "You've got more guts than sense, I'll give you that."

August ignored the comment. "Sir Dumblore has to be here somewhere. I just need to figure out where."

The masked figure sighed. "Well, don't get yourself killed before morning. You'll want to hear what their monarch has to say."

...

...

The underground settlement was eerily quiet at night as the raucous energy of the day faded into a tense silence.

Fires burned low, casting flickering shadows across the rough, rocky walls. August sat near one of the makeshift stone structures with his back against the cold surface while scanning the surroundings. Even in this moment of quiet, danger seemed to lurk around every corner.

The masked figure leaned against a nearby pillar with crossed arms. "You'll need rest if you plan on leaving tomorrow. This place doesn't forgive tired mistakes."

August smirked faintly. "I've been through worse." He rested his head against the wall, staring up at the glowing fungi on the cavern ceiling. "But thanks for the concern."

The figure chuckled. "Don't mistake it for concern. Just don't want to see you get yourself killed before you prove me wrong about this whole Dumblore business."

August didn't respond, instead, he closed his eyes. His mind swirled with thoughts of Sir Dumblore, the strange hostility of the elves, and the dangers of this place. There was definitely more at play than they were letting out.

---

Morning came abruptly with the harsh clang of metal on metal. August jumped to his feet with his hand instinctively going for the dagger hidden beneath his cloak.

Meanwhile, the settlement was alive with activity once more.

The masked figure nudged him lightly with a boot. "Time to move. Looks like they're gathering the lower-numbered prisoners."

August stretched out his stiff muscles. "Lower numbered prisoners? Like what that dude mentioned yesterday?"

"Yes, the ones at the very bottom of the hierarchy," the figure explained. "They're paraded around every morning, a show of power from the higher-ups. Keeps everyone in line."

The two of them moved towards the edge of the crowd gathering near the center.

Guards were dragging out prisoners who were in chains. The prisoners looked dirty and their clothes had been reduced to tatters. Some had bruises or cuts, evidence of the harsh treatment they endured.

August's eyes widened when he spotted a familiar figure among them.

"No way..." He muttered under his breath.

At the back of the line, was Sir Dumblore.

His once-proud posture was now hunched. His beard looked tangled and his robes had been reduced to rags. His wrists were bound with thick chains, and his expression was one of weary resignation.

August clenched his fists. "That's him."

The masked figure followed his gaze. "The old man? That's who you're looking for?"

"Yes. That's Sir Dumblore," August replied with a low tone. "But why is he here, like this?"

The figure shrugged. "Looks like he pissed off the wrong people. If you're planning to save him, you'd better tread carefully. The guards don't take kindly to heroics."

August took a deep breath. "I can't do anything now. Not here. I'll need to bide my time."

The masked figure nodded. "Smart move. For now, let's focus on surviving this assembly. The monarch doesn't tolerate insubordination, and you don't want to draw her attention unnecessarily."

---

The central plaza had been transformed for the assembly. A large platform made of dark stone stood at the center, and atop it sat a makeshift black throne, carved with designs resembling twisted vines.

The makeshift throne was flanked by two massive guards clad in heavy, spiked armor. It was unknown how they had gotten armor but their faces were hidden behind menacing helms.

The murmurs of the crowd of prisoners and residents died down as they gathered around the platform.

The monarch of this settlement was a dark elf with an overbearing presence and unnervingly cold beauty.

Her long, silver hair flowed down her back, contrasting sharply with her jet-black skin.

Her crimson eyes scanned the crowd with a mixture of disdain and amusement, and she wore a flowing gown adorned with metallic plates. In her hand, she held a staff tipped with a glowing crimson crystal.

---

System Notification:

[ NPC Encounter: Dark Elf Melanthis, Monarch of Hollow Dusk Settlement 1 ]

Level: ???

---

Melanthis spoke with a menacing tone. "Welcome, loyal subjects... and those who cling to survival by my mercy." Her gaze swept over the crowd, silencing even the faintest whispers. "You are here because you understand one thing: power belongs to those who take it."

The crowd shifted uneasily as her words hung in the air.

"Some of you are new arrivals, thinking you can escape this place or rise above it. Let me remind you—Hollow Dusk is my domain. Your lives, your actions, your very thoughts belong to me."

August glanced around, noting the fear etched on the faces of those around him. Even the masked figure beside him seemed tense.

Melanthis lips curled into a faint smile as she continued. "Now, to address the... newcomers." Her gaze landed briefly on August, and he felt a chill run down his spine. "Prove your worth. Serve me, and you may find favor. Fail, and you will join the others in the pits of despair. It is simple really, you just have to obey my every command to show you deserve my protection from the wild beasts out there."


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