Supreme BeastTamer: I Can Copy and Upgrade Skills 10x!-Chapter 595: The Truth [1]

What seemed strange about the Frost Monarch was that he wasn’t actively participating in the mural’s battle. Unlike the others—who raged forward, baring claws and breathing elements—his stance was passive. Defensive.

Almost as if... he was holding back.

Nyxirith leaned in closer. "Something’s wrong here. The Frost Monarch... he’s not attacking the Ninth. He’s standing behind the others."

Raziel tilted his head and couldn’t help but snicker. "Like a coward?"

"No," she said sharply. "Like someone who didn’t want to fight."

"Then why was he there?" the Lightning Prince asked, a hint of confusion on his face.

She didn’t answer. Her eyes lingered on the mural as if trying to study it further. The more she looked at it, the more confusing everything became.

"Let’s memorize this. Drake and the others need to see it," she eventually sighed, giving up.

They both stared at the mural in silence for a while.

"I’m good," Nyxirith finally said. Although she had suggested they memorize the painting, she was the only one who had actually done so. Raziel knew he would forget most of the details before they got back to the hideout, so he didn’t bother trying.

"You... you didn’t memorize anything, did you?" she asked, looking at him with a flat expression.

Raziel smiled weakly, but before he could respond, the duo sensed a presence behind them. They both spun around, instantly activating their elemental powers.

But what they saw wasn’t a corrupted dragon.

It was a person.

A young woman, dressed in a dusty robe, her hands raised to show she meant no harm.

"I mean no harm," she said, her voice firm but not aggressive.

Nyxirith didn’t lower her guard, simply raising a brow. "You’re not corrupted?"

The woman gave a faint smile. "Not entirely. If I were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

Raziel eyed her robe—stitched with fragments of scales and torn banners. She looked like she’d been surviving in the city far longer than them.

"When did you get here?" he asked, still keeping a cautious distance.

"I was born here, unlike you guys," the woman replied. "We saw you enter the district. Followed your trail."

"You were born here?" Nyxirith narrowed her eyes. "So that means—?"

The woman nodded. "Indeed, there are others like me. If you’ll come with me, we’ll explain everything."

"You don’t expect us to just follow you, right?" Raziel asked, frowning.

"My partner is right," Nyxirith added, not taking her eyes off the stranger.

"If we wanted you both dead, we could simply alert the Scourge dragons above. We wouldn’t be having this conversation—we’d be attacking you," the woman replied.

That made sense. Nyxirith slowly nodded. "Lead the way. But if it’s a trap, you’ll die before I do."

They followed her through a maze of shattered alleys and crumbled buildings, deeper into the city. Eventually, they reached a collapsed structure veiled in vines and dark cloth. A sigil—drawn in crimson ash—marked the entrance.

"Through here," the woman said, brushing aside a tarp.

Inside was a modest chamber, shielded and dimly lit. Four others stood around a makeshift firepit, each bearing dark scales.

Like Ashren’s group... they were still sane.

An elderly man, well over seventy, stepped forward. His left eye was sealed shut by an old scar. "You brought them?"

"Yes, Leader," the woman replied. "I found them staring at the murals you drew."

The old man studied Nyxirith. "Then they’ve seen more than most. You’re from the Shadow Kingdom, aren’t you?"

She nodded slowly. "And you?"

"We’re the ones who didn’t forget," he said, his voice heavy with old sorrow, as if recalling a buried past.

Raziel crossed his arms. "She mentioned the murals. Could it be... you were there to witness it all? What really happened?"

The man didn’t reply immediately. He simply looked into the fire. "Yes. I witnessed the clash of the monarchs and recorded everything I could in that mural—hoping that, even if I die, the truth won’t be lost."

"Take a seat. I’ll explain everything," he said.

After they sat, the man began his tale.

---

Meanwhile, Zara and Elise stood frozen. The pressure behind them was unreal. It didn’t feel like the corrupted and suffocating aura brought by the Scourge dragons.

Slowly, they turned around.

At the end of the corridor stood a lone figure—a man. Shirtless. His upper body was heavily scarred, with patches of dragon scales.

Zara’s heart skipped a beat. Those weren’t Scourge eyes. He looked just like any other dragonkin.

"I mean no harm," he said with a bright smile. "I know you girls want answers, and I’ll give them—if you agree to help us."

"Us?" Elise asked, voice guarded.

"Yeah," he said, grin widening. "I’m the leader of one of the three surviving factions in this realm."

—

At the same time, Celestis and Valkor listened with serious expressions.

"A long time ago—before the Eight ruled the lands—there were Nine. Nine elemental forces. Most people know fire, water, wind, earth... the basics. But the ninth was different. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t beautiful."

He paused, inhaling deeply before finishing.

"It was called Corruption."

The word echoed through the chamber.

I knew it, Celestis thought, clenching her fist.

"Corruption," Valkor repeated, frowning. "That’s not an element. That’s... rot, ruin, destruction."

"That’s exactly what the monarchs wanted you to believe," Ashren said. "But Corruption is balance. Without it, the world overflows. Beasts overpopulate. Magic stagnates. Kingdoms rise and never fall."

Celestis furrowed her brows. "Then what happened? Why did the monarchs attack the Ninth?"

Ashren’s gaze darkened. "Because the Eight feared it. Corruption wasn’t something they could control. It didn’t bow to kings, dragons, or gods."

Valkor crossed his arms. "I don’t blame them. Even I’d consider attacking it. Leaving something that dangerous alone sounds like madness."

Ashren’s tone shifted, now laced with fury.

"Yes. Because of its nature, the Ninth Monarch separated our kingdom from the rest—sealed it in a locked dimension so our corruption wouldn’t affect others. But..."

His aura flared, and his voice trembled with anger.

"But the Eight still attacked. They destroyed our kingdom and pushed the Ninth into becoming what it is now."

Celestis and Valkor’s expressions changed as realization dawned. The truth behind the Scourge invasion was beginning to take shape.

Celestis inhaled sharply. "The Ninth Monarch... is it the Scourge Alpha?"