An Understated Dominance Novel (Dahlia & Dustin) by Marina Vittori updated 2025-26 - An Understated Dominance Chapter 2670

Chapter 2670

Crossing the canyon—where the purple cocoon sealed their nightmare behind them—felt like stepping straight into another one. This one was older, quieter, and somehow even more suffocating.

The air was thick with decay, the stench of rot mingling with the sharp tang of rust and the stale dust of millennia.

Thin shafts of light filtered through the narrow cracks above the towering rock walls, casting broken patterns across the path ahead. Beneath that dim glow stretched what looked like the remains of an ancient battlefield—vast, desolate, and swallowed by silence.

No banners waved. No corpses lay in piles. Only a stillness worn smooth by time itself.

All around lay massive bones—smooth and jade-like, yet exuding a faint, oppressive power. Some ribs curved high like arches. Some skulls were as large as houses. The remains of colossal beasts long extinct, lying quietly among shattered weapons and collapsed stone pillars.

Even after endless years, their very presence pressed on the air like a memory that refused to die.

Scattered between them were fragments of armor and weapons, dulled and corroded, their luster long gone. Their designs were primitive yet intricate—ancient beyond recognition, unlike anything from the forging schools of the modern age.

Logan crouched and lifted half of a rusted sword from the dirt. Running his fingertips over its blade, he felt only the faintest echo of what once was spiritual power—now cold and lifeless, steeped in death.

Nearby, a shattered shield jutted from the ground, marred by deep claw marks and melted edges.

The earth itself was torn and pitted, full of cracks—some shallow, some plunging so deep they swallowed the light, breathing out cold, hollow drafts.

The sheer scale of the destruction was staggering. The battle that had raged here must have shaken the heavens.

“Wh–what is this place?” the female guard whispered, her voice trembling.

A pressure filled the air—vast and ancient. It came not from any living being, but from the ruins of time, from the weight of something that had once witnessed gods and monsters die.

“These skeletons… these weapons…” she continued, “they can’t belong to ordinary warriors. Could this be one of the legendary ancient ruins?”

Grace’s eyes were wide with awe. She slowly turned in a circle, taking in the devastation. “It has to be,” she murmured. “This place… it feels sacred—and cursed.”

Her gaze fell upon a nearby wall, half-collapsed but still bearing traces of ancient carvings. Strange symbols and faded murals stretched across its surface.

The group gathered close.

Though blurred by time, the carvings still told fragments of a story:
A winged humanoid wreathed in light, summoning thunder to strike down a monstrous beast.
A massive magic circle pulling power from the stars.
A giant as tall as a mountain, falling to its knees beneath the heavens.

The murals were worn almost beyond recognition, yet their tragic grandeur still echoed through the ages.

Logan studied them carefully, his gaze finally settling on a few partially legible characters carved into the stone.

The script was unlike any known form—neither seal script nor clerical—beautiful and intricate, as if each line contained the rhythm of heaven and earth itself.

“Could this be… Cloud Seal script?” Grace said softly, uncertainty in her voice. “I’ve seen something like it before—on a fragment in the Imperial Palace archives. They say it was used by the ancient Qi-binding cultivators, a divine language that could commune with spirits and gods.”

Logan nodded slowly. He couldn’t fully decipher it, but through the faint spiritual resonance within the stone, he caught fragments of meaning: ‘seal,’ ‘suppression,’ ‘evil,’ ‘Yaochi,’ and ‘Xuanpu.’

“Yaochi? Xuanpu?” Grace’s eyes lit with sudden hope. “Those names appear in ancient texts! They say Xuanpu lies within Kunlun, and Yaochi rests in Fairyharbor—the abodes of immortals, where elixirs of eternal life are cultivated. Could it be that the immortals really lived here?”

Logan studied the mural again. At the island’s center, he pointed to the faint outline of celestial palaces suspended in midair, surrounded by waterfalls and luminous springs. Near them were Cloud Seal markings similar to the word ‘Xuanpu.’

“From what’s left here,” he said quietly, “if immortals once existed on this island, their traces would most likely be found in these two places. Especially Yaochi—it’s often linked to divine elixirs and the power to prolong life.”

Then his expression darkened as he gestured toward another mural.

This one depicted a vast, indistinct beast radiating unimaginable ferocity—its form bound deep in the earth by chains and pillars of light. Around it were carvings of humanoid figures holding divine weapons, their combined power sealing it beneath the surface. The nearby characters read ‘Evil Dragon’—or perhaps ‘Ruin Dragon.’

“But the true heart of this island,” Logan said grimly, “appears to be a seal. That so-called Evil Dragon might be what Fairyharbor Island was built to imprison.”

He paused, his voice low. “The undying beast we fought earlier… it might draw its power from the same source that binds this dragon.”

The faint spark of hope in everyone’s hearts flickered—and dimmed.

If that was true, then what they faced wasn’t just an immortal creature, but the echo of a primordial evil vast enough to destroy the world.

Grace straightened, determination hardening her gaze. “Even so, we can’t turn back. At least now we have direction—and purpose. Logan, where should we head next?”

Closing his eyes, Logan extended his spiritual senses.

The interference that had plagued them earlier was still present, but weaker now—like fog beginning to thin.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and pointed forward. “That way. The residual energy there is the most complex—part serene, part deadly. It matches the kind of balance one might expect near Xuanpu or Yaochi. And…” He gestured to the ground. “Something large has moved that way recently. Not all of it human.”

A chill swept through the group.

Without another word, they pressed on, weaving through the skeletal remains of titans and the shattered remnants of an ancient war.

They crossed what might once have been a riverbed, the soil still faintly red—as though stained by blood that time could not wash away.

Then—

“Ah!” A startled cry broke the silence.

One of the guards had stumbled over something buried in loose soil.

Everyone turned—and froze.

Half-buried in the dirt was a corpse.

It was fresh. Dressed in modern warrior attire. The body hadn’t fully decayed, but a gaping hole in the chest told its story well enough—whatever had killed him had done so in an instant.