logo

Those watching felt completely numb as they experienced Dyon treating a Dragon as though he was nothing more than a ragdoll. The difference was so large that there was no question about who was superior. It was only now they realized that the Dragon King's confident words were something both he and Dyon knew he couldn't have been so sure of before the battle began.

He had said those words not because he believed them, but because he had his own pride to protect. He knew how this day would go, how his life would actually end… but he came here anyway. That was his Dao.

Guild Head Zabel had some of the most complex emotions of them all. He knew that with Dyon's intelligence, it was impossible that he didn't know that he had been targeted.

Right now, he wasn't even certain if Taline was still alive and if she survived the eruption event. For a woman who might very well be ash right now, he had offended such a powerful existence. And he might very well follow her soon…

The truth was that the Dragon King's base strength was lower than them all. It was just that his suppressive effect on them was so severe that they could hardly raise a hand against him.

Dyon knew this well… So from the very beginning, he knew the Dragon King didn't stand a chance against him.

"… Are you… trying to go easy on me…? Fuck you."

The Dragon King's last bit of rationality snarled, the red veins across his chest bursting out.

His body was instantly covered in a coat of red, an armor of blood that covered the bubble world in a sinister aura.

Dyon's gaze remained cold, watching a legend descend into chaos.

His finger extended outward. The meridians in his hands filled to the brim with light type qi, condensing over and over again under the fundamental runes of his Silver Mirror constitution.

In less than the span of a single blink, it ripped through the air at an impossible speed, slicing through the Dragon King's right wing.

The blood armored Dragon faltered, tilting and falling from the air.

Another beam left Dyon's fingers, ripping through the Dragon King's left wing.

The plummet quickened, the raspy breath of the Dragon King overshadowed by the sound of sheering wind. His body caught fire as though he was a meteor, falling to the lands of sand below.

Dyon descended from the air to find the Dragon King trying to lift his long neck up.

With a simple palm to his forehead, a strong reflective energy blasted from Dyon, causing the attempt at rising to fail miserably.

"… You're… stronger than I thought…"

The Dragon King's ghastly grin matched with his bestial form looked far more fitting.

"And you're weaker than I thought." Dyon replied blandly.

"How funny. I was thinking the same thing."

The Dragon King's crimson eyes faded back to a bright yellow. His gaze flickered downward to find Dyon's arm piercing through his heart.

Toward the end, Dyon could see his grin morph into something more like a genuine smile of relief. It was the image of a content man.

Dyon grabbed for the Dragon King's nascent soul, but he didn't need to check to see that he had allowed his consciousness to dissipate. In fact, Dyon felt that even his Dragon King treasure now felt strikingly empty.

Dyon took out a familiar black wrest band and stared at it blankly for a moment.

He had never asked what this latter half of the Dragon King thought of this battle. He had assumed that they had diverged enough that he was uncaring. But it seemed that he had misinterpreted his intentions.

It wasn't that he was uncaring, but rather that he too wanted it to end. No matter how far they diverged, they were fundamentally the same person, carrying the same pride.

How must he have felt being beneath Dyon's thumb for so long? Yet, there was nothing he could do about it all this time.

This was the first chance the Dragon King ever had to escape Dyon. His suppression relied on the Heavens recognizing him as a weapon, but Dyon had broken away from the Heavens. On top of that, in the instant of the Dragon King's death, Dyon intention was for the Dragon King to die. Taking advantage of both things, the spirit Dragon King was able to find a loophole to dissipate his consciousness without Dyon's permission.

Dyon smiled bitterly and shook his head.

"I hear you loud and clear… Old Lizard.."

Dyon held the two halves of the Dragon King's soul in his hands, filled with a complicated feeling.

One had the shape of a small white dragon sleeping without a single sign of waking up. All those who didn't have innate auroras had white nascent souls just like this.

The other was a spirit without form or shape. It was clear that the Dragon King hadn't sacrificed his prowess for the fun he was having on the mortal plane. His treasure form only had a small wisp of his consciousness and had next to nothing of his strength.

The only time Dyon had ever directly used the Dragon King's strength was when he evoked a bit of his Dragon Soul when he was battling Chenglei's grandfather. Other than that, this spirit really didn't have much strength at all.

Dyon's bitter smile faded, replaced by a fierce glint.

He lost control of his Presence for a moment. The pressure was so severe that Crystella had no ability to remain standing anymore. Even before the Dragon King, she managed remained standing. But this sort of aura was too much.

Her knees slammed against her flying treasure. A small grimace left her soft lips as she almost felt her kneecaps shatter.

"Since you want to stand at the top of the world, I'll bring you there."

Dyon's good mood dissipated. The immortal plane could push even an existence like the Dragon King to such an extent…