"This is impossible! I clearly killed you! Even a Resurrection spell wouldn't take effect this fast..."
Shock and rage gripped Cullen as he leveled his longsword at the familiar half-dragon. But before long, he realized to his astonishment that the bloodstains on his blade had vanished, and the headless corpse from moments ago was nowhere to be seen.
Reviving immediately upon death, without leaving even a corpse behind.
Cullen could not help recalling his battles against demons. The fiends of the Abyss were the same—if slain on the Material Plane, they would be recalled to the Abyss and reborn anew.
His throat bobbed, and he could not help but ask, "Just what kind of creature are you?!"
Gangtie Kuangchao shot back, "I'm your daddy! Sneaking up from behind while my guard was down—you shameless birdman!"
With a smug grin, he produced eight metal spheres, slotting them all between his fingers.
"But this time, I'm completely prepared. That fast revive cost me several thousand EXP, and I'm not letting it go to waste. So—die, birdman!"
Shouting with supreme confidence, Gangtie Kuangchao hurled every metal sphere in his hands. Rippling through space amidst crackling arcs of electricity, the spheres snapped open midair.
Seven of them deployed an assortment of war machines developed by the Machine Cult—floating turrets, armed robots, and combat hound automata—completely surrounding the angelic godblood.
From the final sphere emerged a massive Arcane Armor nearly ten meters tall. Gangtie Kuangchao leaped into the cockpit, letting loose a wild laugh amplified by grating, mechanical crackle: "Scared yet, birdman? Hahaha! Tremble, you ignorant savage, beneath the iron fist of the Machine God!"
Cullen remained calm. Looking around at the enclosing machinery, he murmured softly, "Exquisite magical devices. But... nothing more than clever toys."
"Toys? You stupid native, let's see how you like them then!" Gangtie Kuangchao yelled defiantly, slamming down a control button.
Instantly, the railgun on the Arcane Armor's left arm gathered terrifying bolts of thunder. With an ear-splitting crack of displaced air, a thick lightning bolt surged forth, striking straight toward the angelic godblood.
In rapid succession, the surrounding floating turrets poured out a dense hail of light projectiles and hurled volatile electromagnetic bombs, while their underslung machine guns spewed steady tongues of fire.
In an instant, particle rounds, EMP bombs, lightning bolts, and combat automata engulfed the angelic godblood from every angle in an inescapable web of destruction—a truly spectacular sight.
Yet Cullen merely gripped his longsword with both hands at an unhurried pace and thrust it into the ground.
*Swish—*
In an instant, a hemispherical barrier of radiant light expanded outward, deflecting everything in its path. Light projectiles, lightning, and bombs alike were annihilated against its surface.
Gangtie Kuangchao's eyes bulged as he watched the angelic godblood wrench his sword free. "Holy shit?!" he blurted out.
Armed robots lunged forward, energy blades flaring along their arms, while the mechanical hounds bounded into the air, hurtling toward the godblood like guided missiles.
"Mortal. Do you believe that killing my comrade by stroke of luck entitles you to challenge a true godblood?"
Cullen sneered. Without even turning his head, he slashed his longsword at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.
*Hum—Boom!*
A flash of white blade-light severed the very air. The converging robots and mechanical hounds were sliced clean in two, detonating in midair.
"Wait, this birdman... is way too overpowered."
Staring at his wrecked machines and the three question marks floating above the godblood's head, an ominous premonition crept into Gangtie Kuangchao's mind.
Unable to see the details, Gangtie Kuangchao knew the enemy's Challenge Rating had to be at least 15, if not higher.
Yet having just slain a Level 15 angelic godblood through sheer coincidence, his confidence had soared to an all-time high. Gangtie Kuangchao had firmly believed his mechanical creations could bridge a mere five-level gap.
What Gangtie Kuangchao did not realize was that Cullen's Challenge Rating was 21—a full ten levels higher than his own. The chasm between them was astronomical.
As a marquis of Holy Fadlan, Cullen stood at the very pinnacle among angelic godbloods. When he underwent Ascension decades ago, he had already reached the legendary tier, once even touching the peak of the realm.
Even though Marquis Cullen had steadily weakened and lost much of his power following the Great Collapse of Holy Fadlan, he remained an undeniable legendary powerhouse—an existence far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.
Gangtie Kuangchao watched the angelic godblood stride toward him step by step, trembling as his fingers slammed the Emergency Defense button.
*Hum—*
A shimmering barrier laced with crackling electric arcs materialized, completely enveloping the Arcane Armor.
Though sturdy enough to withstand a 5th-ring spell, the barrier failed to provide Gangtie Kuangchao the slightest sense of safety—because the angelic godblood had already flapped his wings, ascending high into the sky as his sword flared with blinding brilliance.
*Boom!*
A golden-crimson pillar of fire plummeted from the heavens, punching straight through the barrier and impaling the entire Arcane Armor.
"My mech—!"
Before Gangtie Kuangchao could finish his lament in the cockpit, the infernal pillar reduced him to ash, leaving not a speck of residue behind.
"Infinite resurrection...
"Even deities of greater divine power cannot achieve such a feat with ease. Just what is the origin of these creatures?"
Cullen stared blankly down at the heap of charred scrap. He knew this was not the end; the creature would likely revive again before long.
For he had seen only heartbreak over ruined gear in the man's eyes, not the slightest desire for survival.
Then Cullen turned his gaze toward the increasingly chaotic battlefield. Those scale-covered creatures were mercilessly slaughtering the coalition soldiers, ripping gaping holes through the defensive lines.
Worse yet, against coalition soldiers fighting desperately to defend their homeland—men who deserved universal respect—these vile dragon minions treated combat as a game, even committing deeply humiliating acts.
*Rip!*
A crisp tearing sound rang out as blood sprayed everywhere. A Dragonscale Marine cackled wildly, tearing a terrified coalition soldier clean in two with his bare hands.
Ignoring the blood splattered across his face, he muttered, "Holy crap, that trash TV trope really works! As long as your strength is high enough, you can actually rip a guy in half!"
"Damn, epic! I gotta try that later!"
"You bastard, leave some points for the rest of us! Stop sweating so hard, you've almost cleared out all the coalition soldiers around here!"
"Can't you just go to another zone? There are tens of thousands of troops out there, why do you have to steal my kills? Piss off, piss off!"
Witnessing their gruesome atrocities and hearing their brazen chatter, the angelic godblood clenched his longsword, cursing in incandescent fury: "Damned dragon spawn... They are humiliating our soldiers!"
*Whoosh—*
Cullen snapped his wings open, his eyes blazing with fury as he blurred into an afterimage, swooping straight toward the Dragonscale Marines.
Just then, a fiery dragon surged into the heavens, striking with blinding speed and coiling toward the angelic godblood, forcing him to beat his wings and bank away.
"Fadlanian, your opponent is me."
Ashes drifted on the wind as dragon fear permeated the air.
Suspended midair was a young woman bearing dragon horns upon her brow. Her crimson hair whipped wild in the wind, and behind her flared immense dragon wings that contrasted sharply with her slender, tall frame.
Her visage was striking, and within her golden slit pupils danced flames carrying an eerie detachment and murderous intent—like a hunter sizing up its prey.
This was none other than the Dragonblood Duchess of the Cinder Empire, Mistress of the Tower of Karmic Fire, and Chief Dragon-Pact Sorcerer: Misha.
Cullen narrowed his eyes, studying the delicate girl and feeling the unimaginable, surging energy coiled within her slender frame.
Before him, he could practically see a proud red dragon spreading its wings and roaring!
Cullen gave a cold sneer and murmured, "I was just wondering how a girl barely twenty years old could possess such an aura."
The next instant, he snapped his gaze upward, eyes stern and piercing as he barked, "Turns out you're just a vile dragon in human skin!"
Flapping his wings to whip up a violent gale, the angelic godblood thrust his divine longsword forward, tearing through the air and hurtling toward Misha in a headlong dive bathed in towering plumes of radiant flame.
"Arrogant Fadlanian..."
Misha showed no fear. Beating her draconic wings, she hovered in the air and extended her hand, aiming directly at the approaching godblood.
Scales broke out across the Daughter of Dragonfire's cheeks and brow. Flames and dense smoke swirled about her body, while solar-hot energy coalesced within her palm.
At this moment, rather than the swooping angelic godblood, it was Misha who looked far more like the chosen of the Sun God.
*Boom—!*
The built-up energy surged forth. A searing pillar of fire rent the sky, tearing a crimson scar across the firmament as it hurtled straight at the angelic godblood.
The scorching heat distorted and fractured the air, staining the surrounding sky in golden-crimson hues.
Cullen's brow furrowed. Snapping his feathered wings, he pulled into a nearly vertical climb at blistering speed, barely evading the infernal pillar's impact.
Seizing the opening left by Misha's Dragon's Breath spell, the angelic godblood swooped across the heavens again, swinging his sword with unthinkable velocity.
*Whoosh—*
The blade cleaved through empty air without resistance. Cullen's expression morphed in shock—his strike had met only an illusion of fire, while the real Misha had already teleported behind him.
Several fireballs ripped through the air along the godblood's flight path, detonating in a series of violent blasts that rained singed feathers down from above.
Soon, several fiery portals opened in midair, and Dragon-Pact Sorcerers flew forth one by one to join the assault on Cullen.
Dazzling explosions erupted across the high sky—gorgeous plumes of light spanning hundreds of meters, roaring fire dragons surging upward, scorching heat waves roiling through the clouds... Amidst it all, two figures weaved at breakneck speeds in a breathless dance.
*Boom!*
The earthshaking roar compelled the coalition forces below to look up involuntarily, fixing their eyes upon the heavens.
This was a clash between legendary figures, nothing short of a natural catastrophe. Even the mere aftershocks of such combat could effortlessly obliterate mortal soldiers.
In the past, the Cinder Empire had been sorely lacking in mid-to-high-tier power; whenever legendary foes appeared, Cassius himself, as emperor, had to intervene in person.
Now, having thoroughly digested the Great Anzetta Waste and established colonies across numerous extraplanar realms, the Cinder Empire had grown sufficiently mighty that its military could go toe-to-toe with the once-renowned angelic godblood legions.
The aerial battle raged on, surging clouds of fire rolling ceaselessly as more dragonblood nobles of the empire and celestial creatures joined the fray. Meanwhile, down upon the earth, another unique contingent of players began their advance.
An acrid, suffocating stench filled the air. Hellfire flared from fissures in the ground, accompanied by a clamor of rowdy, raucous shouts.
"Holy shit, you look hideous—like a bloated corpse that's about to pop."
"What do you know? This is the Nupperibo Avatar! You don't look any better, alright? Who cares about looks when you've got stats!"
"Man, look at this unique little beauty... You know, the longer I look, the cuter it gets. I kinda wanna..."
"A person's kinks can be weird, but they shouldn't belong in the underworld! Wait, I mean Hell!"
"The devil in my head says if I sacrifice the soul of an angelic godblood to him, he'll hook me up with an erinyes!"
"For real?! Say no more, I'm throwing hands right now!"
Dark auras of pure evil radiated from these players. Twisted crimson runes were inscribed upon their exposed skin, and ragged, tattered bat wings sprouted from their backs.
Their appearances were wildly varied: some resembled bloated, stitched-together fat abominations; others took the form of alluring, seductive temptresses; still others held pitchforks and bore crimson skin, embodying the classic devil archetype...
These were players who had entered into pacts with devils, known officially in the empire as the "Legion of Hell."
Howling with bizarre cries, these devil-like players swarmed into the coalition positions, bringing an unmitigated catastrophe.
They torched the coalition lines with hellfire, severed soldiers' limbs with cleavers, riddled bodies like sieves with barbed chains, and pierced hearts with bony tails. Some even used charm abilities to bewitch entire formations of soldiers, leaving them in a daze...
The players possessed the powers of devils, yet they were far more chaotic and disorderly than actual devils, using their abilities with wildly unhinged creativity.
Once over ten thousand hellish warriors joined the fray, the scales of victory tipped decisively.
On the main front, artillery bombardment continued unabated while steel behemoths and Dragonscale Marines brutally ripped through the defenses. Imperial infantry advanced methodically behind them, cutting off and encircling coalition units to wipe them out whole.
Meanwhile, auxiliary forces such as the Legion of Hell, the Undead Legion, and the Fire Elemental Legion launched ferocious assaults against weak points along the protracted frontline, sowing terror and panic among the enemy ranks.
...
*Boom!*
Yet another shell plummeted toward Corinth, detonating midair only to be intercepted by a barrier of light erected by the Arcane Legion.
Standing atop the ramparts of Corinth, Walter looked down upon the vast battlefield. He saw ceaseless explosions, angels plummeting from the sky, and coalition troops falling back in defeat step by step...
The former "Wings of Fadlan" knit his brows and sighed softly.
"Draconic bloodlines, terrifying weaponry, and even... infernal pacts. To think that in a mere ten years, the military might of the Cinder Empire would have developed to such an extent."
Beside him, the gold dragon perched along the wall ruffled his wings, his tone tinged with urgency: "Duke Walter, the time has come to act! The coalition will soon break under the Cinder Legion's onslaught!"
"No, Lord Titus."
Walter shook his head firmly, declining. "I know your righteousness compels you to aid the coalition. Yet compared to the Cinder Legion, their emperor—that red dragon—is the greatest threat.
"I am sure you can see as well that this red dragon is not merely brutal and powerful, but as sly and insidious as a viper. Until he reveals himself, we must not be the first to make a move."
Titus retorted passionately, "Are we to stand by and watch the coalition perish? Watch these unscrupulous villains reduce North Aethel to scorched earth?"
At this moment, the gold dragon appeared exceptionally agitated, the barbels along his jaw standing taut and straight. He paced back and forth, making the stone wall tremble under his weight.
"No, Lord Titus. Just as you once said: the boundless night will ultimately usher in the dawn, and justice and order will prevail in the end."
Duke Walter lifted his head, gazing toward the edge of the horizon and the undulating hills beyond. His golden eyes shone with a resolute, unwavering light.
Having come this far, there was no turning back.
Chapter 617