Chapter 444

Chapter 444: Death Scorpion

The Death Scorpion family was situated north of Mososbury City.

As the first family that had maintained its position in the city council for millennia, it claimed sole ownership of the largest cavern in the city.

This cavern dwarfed the Wolfspider tribe’s by several times. The moment Midi entered, he noticed the dense concentration of Dark Magic in the air.

Mososbury City stood atop underground magic veins, and the Death Scorpion’s cavern lay directly over these veins. Combined with the magic arrays that controlled and channeled the energy, the Dark Magic here had reached saturation.

Not only did the Death Scorpion occupy the prime location, but they also monopolized the magic that should have been shared by the entire city. The first family’s domineering ways were on full display.

But now, Midi wasn’t among the deprived—he was part of the privileged. He kept his thoughts to himself.

Arranged by Master Hawke, Midi moved into a hollowed-out stone pillar at the cavern’s edge.

The spacious interior included a bedroom and a private training room. Several dark elf attendants waited outside, ready to serve at his call.

Most striking was the magic spring in the training room.

Linked directly to the underground veins, Midi estimated training here would double his leveling speed.

Though initially thrilled, his excitement soon gave way to unease.

If this was the treatment for an outsider, what advantages did the Death Scorpion’s core disciples enjoy? Surpassing such elites to earn a Black Dragon Conference spot seemed daunting.

“Scared?” Rot’s amused voice echoed in his mind.

“The Dark Magic here surpasses even the Sea of Clouds. Any dark elf raised in this environment would grow fearsomely strong,” Midi admitted. Then he smirked. “But fear changes nothing. My path remains the same.”

“True,” the Eighth Apostle acknowledged.

He approved not of Midi’s defiance, but his resolve. Bound by Death’s Pursuit Order, Midi had no choice: face a level-70 demon viscount within a year or die. Whether the Shaded Realm’s elites seemed unbeatable mattered little—he had to overcome them.

Easier said than done, yet Midi embraced this calmly. Rot sensed he might witness a miracle through this human.

As for Midi? Having glimpsed the Death Scorpion’s resources, he refused to waste time. The Fighter Selection loomed in a month. To bypass the public trials, he needed the Higher-ups’ attention—and a recommendation.

A steep challenge, but one he’d tackle head-on. Success meant control. Failure meant death. Simple as that.

After settling into the stone pillar room, Midi immediately hurried out. He asked a servant for directions and headed straight to the family mission hall at the cavern’s center.

He hadn’t gone far when he ran into his only acquaintance—Martial Arts Master Hawke.

“Midi, where are you rushing off to?” Hawke asked, surprised by Midi’s haste.

“To the mission hall—the one you mentioned earlier,” Midi replied bluntly.

“The mission hall?” Hawke’s surprise only deepened.

As Midi’s inviter, Hawke had already explained all the basic rules of the Death Scorpion family during their journey. Even if Midi did nothing, the generous Death Scorpion family would provide ample resources to someone qualified for Mososbury City’s Fighter Selection. Though these resources paled in comparison to what core members received, the magic spring in his room and future provisions like potions and materials were things ordinary warriors outside would fight over.

If Midi wanted more, shouldn’t he at least wait until he’d used up what he had? And after the bonfire gathering’s conclusion, shouldn’t he rest first? Yet here Midi was, bolting to the mission hall the moment he’d unpacked.

What was he after?

Martial Arts Master Hawke felt puzzled.

“I want to assess the difficulty of family missions and see how my strength measures up here,” Midi explained.

“I see.” Hawke nodded thoughtfully but didn’t press further. Instead, he set aside his tasks and accompanied Midi.

Along the way, Midi cut to the chase: “Master Hawke, could you tell me what kind of people become warriors recommended by the family?”

“Curious, are you? Very well.” Hawke gave him a measured look before launching into an explanation.

The Death Scorpion family, with over three thousand members—five times the Wolfspider tribe’s size—organized its military into five tiers.

At the bottom were warriors, the Legion’s backbone. They handled external missions and formed the family’s army during wars.

Above them stood guards—higher-ranked, battle-tested defenders of the cavern and its VIPs.

Next came the true elite: the one hundred family Warriors. Selected from promising youths, these privileged individuals commanded lower ranks in battles to earn merits. Primarily groomed for the Black Dragon Conference, they balanced youth with vast potential.

Three Martial Arts Masters ranked above them, serving as commanders. Topping the hierarchy was the chief warrior, second only to the chieftain in authority—even family higher-ups and elders couldn’t override him. The current chief warrior stood at level 67.

“Level 67?” Midi grimaced. A five-level gap meant no victory unless Rot intervened.

Seeing his expression, Hawke chuckled. “Relax. Martial Arts Masters and the chief warrior don’t compete for recommendation spots or enter the Fighter Selection. They won’t set foot in Crystal Dragon Fortress or the Black Dragon Conference either.”

“They don’t participate?” Midi couldn’t hide his shock.

“Because Dark Dragon City imposes restrictions,” Hawke said solemnly.

Entry to Dark Dragon City wasn’t freely granted. Beyond societal selection, two ironclad rules applied: entrants must be under thirty and could enter only once in their lifetime.

Hearing this, Midi sensed the city’s founder’s intent—only the most talented, resourceful young geniuses deserved its heritage.

Such rules made sense. Without them, dark elves could simply send level-70 veterans to ransack the city every decade. Instead, they had to nurture young talents acceptable to the city’s criteria.

The Black Dragon Conference’s multi-stage selection stemmed from these conditions. While outer tribes remained ignorant, this was common knowledge among Death Scorpion members.

Crystal Dragon Fortress shared identical restrictions: under thirty, first-time entrants only. Its connection to Dark Dragon City earned it the “dragon fortress” title.

Hawke himself had entered Crystal Dragon Fortress years ago and earned a family recommendation to compete in the Black Dragon Conference against the Shaded Realm’s elites—but had failed. Now over thirty, he’d lost eligibility, as had the chief warrior.

Such experts existed to strengthen the family, not chase conference glory. Only the hundred Warriors were groomed for that purpose. Among them, the top five became Mososbury City fighters—the true core members.