Somewhere high in the sky, a red demon eagle with a wingspan of more than 20 meters was hovering, and the sharp eyes of the eagle reflected the figures of a large and small fighting figure.
---
"Just wait for the opportunity."
My spirit possessed the Red Demon Eagle, and I said to myself.
If I want to take action, it must be a fatal blow.
Otherwise, if Dionbaia is allowed to run away, it will cause a scandal and offend a legendary second-level strongman, as well as the Ryan Empire, and even many strong men from the Pan-Continent Alliance may also turn against me and only have a bad feeling.
Therefore, once I take action, I must succeed even if I have to show my cards. However, I would like to avoid the situation.
I waited patiently for half an hour.
Suddenly, my spirit was shaken.
In the distance, Black Dragon King Brons suddenly erupted, ignoring Dionbaia's attack, and struck down with his claws.
A huge wound was made by the dragon spear in front of Brons's chest. Although Dionbaia was not injured, the energy emerging from his body became extremely dim, and the energy layer generated by the legendary armor also had slight cracks.
This is the moment!
Although this is not necessarily the best opportunity, the timing of the battlefield is ever-changing, and strong alliance forces may come to support the next moment, so I, who have been observing this battle, did not hesitate at all.
Dionbaia's body skidded across the fractured sky like a ragdoll, hurled by Brons's titanic dragon claws. His armor sparked violently with each impact against the arcane air, and yet—
A sudden, unnatural stillness bloomed in his heart.
A bone-deep chill.
He didn't know why—but something far worse was coming.
Below, from the shattered ruins and still-burning fields, Bronze Dragon Aiden's massive head tilted sharply, his luminous blue eyes shrinking to slits. Horror twisted across his draconic face as he stared above Dionbaia.
There, behind the airborne warrior, the air rippled. A space fold tore open without warning—a yawning rift of jagged void forming into a dark, oval-shaped "Any Door" that stretched impossibly wide. And from within… a claw emerged.
No, not a claw—a calamity.
It was pitch black and seething with golden threads that pulsed like sun. The claw alone was larger than a fortress wall. And then, in a moment that seemed frozen in time, it snapped forward.
Dionbaia—once a proud dragon knight standing nearly two meters tall—was snatched like a broken twig in the gaping grasp of the monstrous claw.
He reacted instantly, instinct roaring to life.
A flash of green light sparked in his palm—the last-resort jade teleportation talisman. He crushed it.
Nothing happened.
The talisman crumbled into useless dust. No magic. No glow. No salvation.
"Anti-teleportation field… forbidden magic?" His last coherent thought vanished beneath the crushing weight of dread.
CRACK.
His armor shattered like porcelain. His mana shields blinked out in a final gasp. Then came the hideous symphony of snapping bones and rupturing organs. Crimson and black ichor sprayed from the spaces between the colossal fingers. Flesh, armor, and soul were ground together like pulp caught in a god's fist.
Below, Aiden's roar shook the skies.
"DIONBAIA!"
He surged upward, eyes blood-red with fury, wings tearing through clouds as he ascended.
Across the battlefield, Brons—frozen mid-flight—stared dumbfounded.
What's going on?
??
A second ago, Dionbaia was his opponent. Now he was nothing more than liquified gore leaking from the fingers of a dragon lord of nightmares.
Brons's wings instinctively pulled back. For the first time in centuries, the Black Dragon King took a step back—not from fear, but from sheer, unfiltered awe.
Above, the great claw slowly withdrew. But just before it vanished, something caught its attention.
A faint golden light began to leak from the crushed remains of Dionbaia.
It pulsed once—then again—and rocketed skyward with a scream only divine beings could hear.
The voice in the void gave a curious exhale.
"A soul... claimed? A fanatical believer? How rare." he narrowed my eyes and thought a little when he saw Dionbaia's soul being forcibly taken away.
The dragon's void-touched voice echoed with amusement. Gods didn't get to keep many like this anymore. Most legendary-level beings saw gods for what they were: powerful, yes—but ultimately just elevated lifeforms.
And yet… Dionbaia had believed. Truly. Completely.
It is actually more difficult for powerful beings who reach the legendary level to believe in gods.
Especially spellcasters—they clearly understand that gods are just more powerful super life forms.
Under such circumstances, if you can still become a believer, it is usually only a shallow believer. And this is often done to obtain the benefits from the gods and is regarded as the "employee" of the gods walking in the material plane.
They develop followers for the gods, and then the gods issue performance rewards based on the effectiveness of these employees' work.
It is really rare that Dionbaia, whose strength is not weak at all, is a fanatical believer.
A soldier… loyal to the very end.
A dragon's roar brought back his thoughts. Through any door, black king saw the flying bronze dragon.
"Such an angry and hateful look. Well, there's nothing we can do about it." he sighed, but not only was there no regret in his eyes, but he was a little excited.
The space tear twisted once more.
Another claw emerged—this time aimed at Aiden.
The Bronze Dragon roared again and launched himself into the void claw's path, jaws wide and ablaze with lightning. His fangs found purchase. Scales cracked. Blood—thick, oily, void-stained blood—splattered inside his mouth.
But that power… it wasn't normal blood. It oozed with spatial void, and as it entered Aiden's maw, it vanished into him—something foreign… began to stir.
The great claw, having accomplished its mission,, the speed of my dragon claw suddenly increased, it jerked violently and slammed Aiden into the ground, a comet of bronze fury streaking across the land. Craters opened, shockwaves roared, and dust columns rose like tombstones.
The claw vanished back into the Any Door, which snapped shut with a hiss of displaced reality.
In the rubble of a once-grand town, Black Dragon King Brons finally landed, scattering stone and ash. He stood silent, watching the storm settle.
And then, slowly, he exhaled, a smirk tugging at the corners of his razor-toothed mouth.
"So that's him… the Black Dragon Lord of the South." His voice was almost reverent, laced with fascination and bloodlust.
"Insidious. Ruthless. Divine in his cunning."
Brons's tail flicked, and he clicked his tongue.
"I, Brons—the Black Dragon King—officially approve of you."
Although he was a little overwhelmed at first, Brons soon observed the extent of black king's strength. In fact, it was not to the extent that he would instantly kill a strong man like Dionbaia. It was just insidious and cunning enough to catch him. It's just a good time to live.
As for the huge body? Although Brons learned some spells, he mainly relied on blood and time to accumulate them. His real attainments in spells were not deep, so he thought that the black dragon lord used some kind of spell to increase his size.
At this time, among the pits in the ruins, a somewhat embarrassed bronze dragon Aiden rushed out of it, with a flash of spiritual light on his body, and a any door opened, trying to rush in.
It looked like he was going to settle a score with black king.
Certainly. Here's a more epic, brutal, and visceral version of the scene with elevated language, enhanced imagery, and more bloodthirsty intensity:
---
However—
Without warning, a massive obsidian claw—like a mountain wrapped in shadow—seized the bronze dragon's tail mid-flight. A terrible force surged through it, and in the next instant, the dragon's body was hurled like a broken javelin. The ground quaked as he was smashed into the earth with an earth-shattering boom, sending stone and blood flying in all directions.
"Hey, hey, hey... I'm still the main act here, aren't I? Or have I been reduced to a sideshow?" The Black Dragon King Brons cracked his neck, his voice dripping with scorn and amusement.
In the rising dust, the bronze dragon Aiden staggered upright, his majestic form battered and cracked, blood dripping from gashes in his scales. His golden talons scraped against the broken stone as he glared at Brons, fury seething in his molten-blue eyes.
Yet what he saw in Brons' eyes was not challenge—but pity.
"You poor thing," Brons said softly, shaking his horned head. "You really think you can leave? That you can simply flap your wings and forget the humiliation of earlier?"
His voice darkened, thick with malice. "No. Although I can't kill you, do you think you can leave so easily? Just repent and apologize under the sharp claws of this king's Dragon Fist."
Before Aiden could react, a thick, iron-hard dragon tail lashed through the air with a boom, slamming him again into the cratered earth. Bones cracked audibly, wings bent unnaturally, and blood pooled beneath him.
But dragons do not die easily.
With a roar of defiance and pain, Aiden surged forth, lightning flaring from his maw in a blinding torrent that scorched the air. It struck Brons head-on—
And was swatted aside.
A single claw, infused with the ancient might of black dragon mana, carved through the lightning breath like a blade through fog, detonating it mid-air in a violent explosion of arcane sparks.
"Weak. Predictable. Boring." Brons clicked his tongue. His scales shimmered with black magic and battle-lust.
"Brons!" Aiden roared, his voice hoarse with blood. "Do you intend to bar my path?!"
"Bar your path?" Brons blinked in mock confusion, then laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed across the ruined battlefield. "Please. Do I look like a hero to you? I don't care about your vengeance, your honor, or your friend's mangled corpse."
His fangs gleamed in the light of burning ruins.
"No, no... I just want to give you a good beating."
Brons looked extremely unhappy as he thought about the earlier scene of being chased by Dion and the bronze dragon Aiden.
Now that Dion was dead, the debt naturally had to be repaid by the bronze dragon Aiden.
As soon as these words came out, the bronze dragon's face suddenly turned ugly.
Aiden's expression contorted in fury—but beneath that rage, there was fear.
Immediately, under Brons' sinister smile, the bronze dragon began to be beaten.
And then the slaughter began.
Brons descended like a falling meteor, each blow of his claws and tail ringing out like thunder. Blood sprayed across the battlefield in thick arcs. Aiden howled in agony as his scales were peeled away like bark from a tree, revealing raw flesh and broken bone beneath.
He fought back—oh, how he fought—but it was like striking an avalanche.
Screams, guttural groans, and enraged howls shook the skies. The ground was soon painted in bronze blood and scattered shards of broken scale. Flesh was torn. Wings were shattered. The mighty bronze dragon's defiant roars gradually turned to ragged screams that would chill the bones of even the gods.
It is said that dragons possess a pain tolerance far beyond mortal understanding.
So imagine the brutality it must take to make one scream like that.
His grin was wide and merciless as their clash of power continues.
"This... is payback," he whispered, "with interest."
—
On the other side—
Black Castle Dragon Pond.
I gathered and packaged the minced meat of Dion in my dragon claws and then threw it to Nike, who was guarding the entrance of the dragon pond.
Nike is the first Descendant of the Void created by me and also the weakest. He is a ninth-order creature and hasn't even entered the advanced tier.
Nike gently sniffed the pile of minced meat thrown by his master, sensing the astonishingly high-level energy contained within it. A look of surprise appeared on the ferocious dragon's face, and he lowered his head fanatically and said respectfully,
"Humble servant Nike sincerely thanks his master for the reward."
I didn't even respond. I walked to the center of the dragon pond and opened my tightly clenched claw.
One dark blue, one deep red—two powerful spiritual lights soared into the sky, trying to escape.
However, I was already prepared. I snorted coldly, and one of the sharp claws flashed with black light. The legendary black sword flashed through the air, and then a black energy shield emerged, trapping the two legendary pieces of equipment.
After "struggling" for a while, the two legendary items ran out of energy and finally fell into my dragon claw, no longer resisting.
As legendary equipment, they possessed spirituality. Some extremely high-quality legendary items have spirituality and intelligence even greater than that of ordinary humans. They're already considered a new and alternative form of life. Like AI systems like U Ultron, Vision and Brainiac.
With a thought, I poured my spiritual power and magic into these two legendary pieces of equipment and began forcibly refining them.
During this process, the dragon spear and armor, which had previously stopped resisting, began to struggle again, but I easily suppressed them.
"The resistance is quite strong," I grinned.
Gradually, the dragon spear and armor ceased resisting once more.
In this way, the initial refinement was considered successful.
The legendary characteristics of the dragon spear and armor then appeared in my mind.
Dark Blue Dragon Spear – [Penetrating Characteristics]: Anything weaker than the Dark Blue Dragon Spear will have its defense broken by the spear.
Crimson Armor – [Vitality Amplification]: Increases the wearer's blood energy intensity and burst capacity.
After learning the legendary characteristics of the two pieces of equipment, I was slightly disappointed.
These two legendary items were of very ordinary quality.
According to the classification of legendary items, from low to high, the levels are:
Lower-level legendary items: possess one or two legendary properties
Intermediate legendary items: possess three to four legendary properties
Advanced legendary items: possess five or more legendary properties
The black sword I obtained earlier, as well as the blue dragon spear and crimson armor I acquired just now, all had only one legendary property and are considered low-quality legendary items.
Of course, no matter how low the tier, they are still legendary. Most legendary beings can't even get a single piece, let alone three.
"These three pieces of legendary equipment are worth more than all the wealth I've accumulated over the years."
I couldn't help but sigh.
If these three pieces of legendary equipment were sold—for example, to the Chamber of Commerce of All Realms—the resulting wealth would be enough to construct a mage tower.
A mage tower is a luxurious and adaptable special architectural item, classified as legendary equipment for legendary casters. At the same quality level, its value is basically equivalent to three standard legendary items.
In other words, my three dragon fingers were now carrying a fortune equivalent to a mage tower.
"Sure enough, I still have to rely on robbing to get rich quickly." I grinned.
After briefly experiencing the effects of the new equipment, I continued refining the two legendary items while also channeling a portion of my spirit to search for the power of the void to possess the Black Wing Familiars on the epic battlefield in the middle of the continent.
I watched the progress of the war.
This was only preliminary refinement. To wield them as easily as an extension of my body, I needed to refine them thoroughly.
Given my current spiritual strength and magic quality, fully refining them will take a long time.
In this regard, there is still a large gap between me and a true legendary powerhouse.
---
Central Territory, Emerald Plains.
The once vast and beautiful emerald plains, after experiencing the devastation of the war between the Crimson Nest and the Pancontinental Race Alliance Army, were now covered in massive, grotesque 'scars' scattered across the land. Blood and fire burned, and the people fought bitterly. Warriors among them shouted and roared with anger, passion, or despair.
The so-called order had long since vanished.
The massive emerald plains could now be summed up in one word: chaos.
Beneath the Great Plains, in a cavernous altar cloaked in darkness, vast quantities of blood, water, and souls flowed from the surface above. After being purified by the altar, all essence energy was transferred to a black-robed caster figure, slowly and steadily strengthening his aura.
The figure cloaked in black robes looked to be enjoying himself. He let out a strange "Jie Jie" laugh and said,
"It's coming soon. I'll soon return to your former strength."
This figure was the Necromancer who had previously attempted to steal the soul of the giant fishman.
He also had another identity—that of the fish-man Em.
Of course, the identity of fish-man Em was merely a flesh-and-blood puppet under his control. His true identity was that of a legendary necromancer who had lived for more than two thousand years.
However, due to a past battle with a formidable foe, he was ultimately defeated, and his soul was severely damaged. As a result, his foundation crumbled, and his strength was drastically reduced—he could no longer even reach the first level of legendary power.
Over the years, through small-scale wars and the absorption of flesh, blood, and souls, the necromancer had slowly recovered to the first level of the legend.
*****
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