Kazul

"He got away!" "Damn it!" "We fought for so long and burned through so much ammo, and he just gets away? What a ripoff!" "And the kill credit for that giant wyvern was stolen by a damn NPC! The devs are completely shameless!" "You scoundrel! Don't you dare talk about my waifu Misha like that!" "Get lost, weeb!" The players poured out damage with everything they had, yet they could only watch helplessly as Felipe fled into the city. Swallowing their fury, they turned around and vented every bit of it onto the remaining Dragon Cultists and dragonblood monsters. "Halt! Die, dragon fiend! "You have slaughtered the innocent, acted with utter impunity, and driven the people of Seleucia from their homes. Today I shall eradicate you wretched monsters and restore peace and justice to the world!" With his bald head gleaming, Dawei Tianlong channeled ki into his legs. Treating the airborne dragonized cultists as stepping stones, he bounded across their backs, leaping higher and higher until he landed straight on the back of a chromatic dragonbeast. "Mighty Heavenly Dragon, World-Honored Ksitigarbha, Prajna Buddhas, Prajna Bamakong!" With a booming war cry, the tattoos across Dawei Tianlong's body suddenly flared to life. A golden celestial dragon coiled behind his back in a display of overwhelming majesty. It was not one of Elezerg's six-limbed dragons, but an authentic five-clawed golden dragon! Unfortunately, it was merely a projected magic sigil he had specifically paid a wizard to etch onto him—entirely useless except for looking cool. "Hah!" Another earth-shattering roar tore from his throat. Bathed in resplendent golden light with a coiling dragon behind him, the bald monk looked as if he were possessed by a heavenly dragon. His aesthetic was completely out of place in Elezerg. His fists slammed into the chromatic dragonbeast's back like a raging tempest, whistling with gale-force winds. With every strike, he drove ki deep into the chromatic dragonbeast's flesh. The turbulent streams of energy penetrated its scales and burrowed deep into its blood vessels and muscles. The chromatic dragonbeast let out shrill wails of agony. It twisted its head around, parting a foul, reeking maw to bite the monk off its back. "Petty tricks!" Dawei Tianlong showed not the slightest hint of fear. Anchoring his stance with the ki beneath his feet, he bent his knees, gathered power, and launched a vicious uppercut. The blow sent the beast's head reeling sideways amidst a spray of blood, knocking several teeth clean out of its mouth. Seeing that it could not kill him quickly, the chromatic dragonbeast thrashed frantically, trying desperately to fling the infuriating bald monk from its back. Instead, its violent struggles only spurred Dawei Tianlong to strike harder. The frantic movements caused the ki to disperse through the beast's body even faster, surging along its vessels and racing straight into its heart with the rapid rush of blood. "Vile beast, enemy of heaven and earth—it's time to end this!" Dawei Tianlong's muscles swelled, thick veins bulging across his arms as he pooled every ounce of strength in his body, unleashing one final, devastating strike. Resonant Ki: Detonate! *Boom!* In an instant, the ki planted inside the chromatic dragonbeast detonated. Its muscles, blood vessels, and heart were torn to shreds, bursting in a violent explosion. Blood and mangled gore rained from above as the colossal chromatic dragonbeast plummeted from the sky. It crashed into the earth with a thunderous impact, crushing over a hundred Dragon Cultists to death on the spot. "Holy crap! That monk took down a giant wyvern all by himself! That's insane!" "The Abbot is a god! Charge, boys!" "Form up—!" The Eighteen Bronze Men of the Shaolin Temple guild followed in Dawei Tianlong's wake, surging into the Cult of the Dragon's army. Locking into formation, they battered the surrounding cultists to death with staves, fists, and kicks. Aerospace warships belonging to the Machine Cult also arrived from the distance. Dragonscale Marines leapt from high above, crashing heavily into the enemy ranks. Wielding chainswords and power swords, they reaped the surrounding cultists like wheat. "For the Empire!" "Attack!" Spurred on by this surging tide, the players attacked with reckless abandon, launching wave after wave of fierce assaults. The already struggling Dragon Cultists broke into a full retreat, leaving behind a trail of grotesque corpses. The coalition's offensive grew even fiercer. Shells crisscrossed the sky, falling upon the city like a dense downpour. Even Tiamat's divine shield struggled to endure the barrage, fracturing into countless fissures. Raging flames, choking clouds of ash, and crumbling walls and buildings threw countless Dragon Cultists into sheer panic, leaving them with no choice but to pray frantically to their deity. Before long, the cultist army outside the city was routed. "Great Queen of Chromatic Dragons, please strike down these traitors!" "By Tiamat!" "Madness! These lowly humans have lost their minds! How dare they lay hands upon the noble dragonborn!" "We can't hold them back!" The wails of dragonblood monsters and the desperate cries of cultists filled the battlefield, only to be drowned out by the roar of artillery and the thunderous rumble of steam tank engines. Carrying unstoppable momentum, the Empire's iron behemoths ground across the earth and darkened the skies, effortlessly crushing all resistance before them. Soon, they closed in on the towering, ancient walls of Sunset City. *Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!* Ten thousand cannons fired in unison. In an instant, the seemingly impregnable ramparts trembled violently. Loose stones tumbled down, and countless gaping craters erupted across the stone, threatening to collapse at any moment. Yet amidst the ruins within Sunset City, Tiamat's altar stood tall and untouched. As if shielded by divine providence, every stray shell veered away from it. Felipe stood atop the altar, throwing his arms wide in ecstatic fervor. "Ignorant rebels! You shall perish alongside the end of the old era! The great dragons will soon reign over this world! "And now—the apocalypse is at hand! The end of the old world and the dawn of the new are upon us! Awaken! Here I pray with a devout heart, summoning your arrival, O Great World-Ending Dragon! Purifier of the Old World, Herald of Her Majesty Tiamat!" Frenzied with zeal, Felipe raised the Calamity Scepter high. From the five pairs of vertical pupils set into the scepter's tip, five rays of divine radiance burst forth, soaring straight into the heavens and dissolving into the pitch-black clouds. The dark clouds churned relentlessly, motes of mottled radiance shifting within them as if building up a terrifying power. The next instant, accompanied by a thunderous roar, a beam of light plunged from the heavens dozens of kilometers away, striking straight into the earth. It was bloodred, like a weeping gash torn across the world, breathtaking and terrible. Even the distant mountain ranges were bathed in that scarlet radiance, draped in a hazy blood-colored veil as though they too groaned in agony over the bloodshed. An invisible, overwhelming pressure rolled out from the distant mountains, sweeping across the entire battlefield in an instant. Every mortal soul present felt their spirit shudder, on the verge of being swallowed whole by terror. Misha looked toward the cloud formation pierced by the beam of light, her voice dropping grimly. "That direction... is the volcano." Her expression abruptly shifted, a rare flicker of panic surfacing in her golden pupils. "This is bad! It's Kazul! He's been hiding inside the volcano all along!" Felipe threw his head back in wild, manic laughter. His expression was twisted and bizarre; though his face was stretched into an ecstatic grin, his eyes were bloodshot and glistening with tears, drops of blood-tinged water leaking from the corners of his eyes. The volcano roared. The colossal titan stirred in its slumber, releasing a low, guttural rumble. Rocks along the peak shattered and tumbled down, slamming against the steep mountain slopes with dull, heavy thuds like the groans of a dying giant. Suddenly, the earth tore open into an abyss of a maw. Magma erupted like boiling golden blood, dyeing the entire sky in the orange glow of a roaring inferno. And from the heart of that boiling pool of golden blood, an immense, boundless silhouette broke violently through the surface of the lava. A hideous, terrifying head emerged first, every angular crest coursing with liquid flame. A massive neck and towering spine followed, covered in dense, overlapping layers of scarlet scales as thick as heavy plate armor. Magma seeped from the creature like beads of sweat, hissing as it dripped down and searing deep craters into the stone below. Then, shoulders as broad as mountain ridges tore through the curtain of molten rock, rising fully into view. A pair of colossal wings capable of blotting out the sun snapped open to either side. The fiery light of the magma shone through them, making them look like two red-hot hellscapes unfurling proudly through the thick smoke and blistering heat. Where the wingtips swept, the air warped under the blistering temperature, letting out shrill, piercing shrieks. The crimson beast raised its head and unleashed a roar that shook the cosmos, instantly drowning out every clash and scream across the battlefield. It was no ordinary dragon's roar; it was the thunderous churn of magma in the earth's depths, the cataclysmic collapse of mountains, and the crushing weight of a suffocating, divine majesty woven into one. The battlefield froze. Those narrow vertical pupils—blazing, inhuman, cruel, and indifferent—slowly shifted, sweeping over the distant ranks of men that seemed as tiny as ants. Wherever that gaze fell, the air twisted and steel began to melt, as if souls themselves would be set ablaze. In the eyes of the onlookers, the massive red dragon rose from the distance like a living volcano amidst the trembling of the earth. This was Kazul—the King of Calamity, the God of Destruction, foremost of the Cult of the Dragon's three lesser deities, the dragon god who symbolized the apocalypse and the end of all things. Among the Seleucian lines, a noble knight clad in silver armor had been raising his blade to roar a charge, but his movement suddenly locked in place. Beneath his visor, his wide eyes reflected those burning golden pupils, drained of everything save primal terror. His raised arm hung frozen in midair, muscles twitching and spasming from sheer horror, as if he had been nailed to an invisible cross. "Ka... Kazul..." His voice trembled as he whispered that forbidden name. *Clang!* The crisp ring of metal striking stone pierced the suffocating silence. A soldier had dropped his spear. That tiny, insignificant sound was like a pebble tossed into a stagnant pool, instantly detonating a tidal wave of panic. Then came a second clatter, a third... The dropping of weapons merged into a despairing rain of steel. The Seleucian soldiers stood rooted to the spot, as if their very souls had been torn from their bodies. The once-disciplined battle lines collapsed in an instant, as though struck by an invisible tidal wave. "It really is Him!" "It's the dragon that slaughtered tens of millions! Gods above, how could such a monstrous, bloodthirsty creature exist in this world?!" "By Amaunator! It's the God of Destruction! Was that prophecy true after all?" "No, enough! I don't want to face Him anymore! That's not something mortals can fight!" Within the coalition ranks, thousands of warhorses reared with terrified whinnies, throwing their riders to the dirt. Soldiers threw down their helmets and armor, shoving and trampling one another like headless flies just to flee the gaze of those vertical pupils. A tide of chaos surged across the battlefield, blending desperate screams and dying wails into a discordant chorus. Though the Imperial Army was shaken, they held their core formations, refusing to collapse into total rout. Surrounded by Imperial officers, Duoluo clenched his fists. Looking at the chaotic Seleucian army in the distance, he ground his teeth and cursed, "Useless Seleucian cowards! Good for nothing! Terrified out of their wits by the enemy!" "Marshal, what should we..." "No need to panic! His Majesty Cassius has been watching the battlefield the entire time. Since Kazul has shown himself, His Majesty will certainly take the field and crush him!" Far away, Kazul beat his sun-blotting wings, taking flight and whipping up a scalding tempest. As he soared, countless streams of magma shot into the heavens and rained down, turning the sky into a downpour of fire. Scalding magma and flaming meteors plummeted into the ranks of men, triggering violent explosions and inflicting horrific casualties upon the coalition. "It is time to end... this tedious little game." Kazul looked down upon the crumbling mortal throng, tilting his colossal head slightly as if observing their futile struggles. There was no mercy in his eyes, nor even the usual sadistic excitement of a red dragon butchering lesser beings—only a cold, weary indifference. To Kazul, these humans were nothing more than disposable materiel, no different from dirt, gravel, or water. They did not even qualify as living things, not worth wasting the effort of cruelty upon. Thousands of years ago, Kazul had been just like those young, vigorous, reckless red dragons—burning, pillaging, acting with wanton cruelty, taking delight in the terrified faces of mortals and savoring their agony. How childish that was. To the Kazul of today, slaughtering millions was no different from crushing a pile of pebbles underfoot. Anger, pity, exhilaration—none of it was necessary. After all, they were merely humans. Today, only one thing could stir excitement within this ancient red dragon and make his long-dormant heart beat powerfully: apotheosis. Transcending physical existence to become a higher form of life. Deep within Kazul's throat, a molten, dark-gold radiance began to swell and pulse. With every throb, the surrounding air groaned under the unbearable strain, violently distorting the light. It was an ancient power capable of incinerating all things and rewriting the order of the world, gathering within Kazul's heart—the final stillness before the Day of Judgment. Felipe looked up at the distant red dragon and raised the Calamity Scepter high, solemnly proclaiming amidst the rain of fire: "Praise be to the great World Incinerator, the God of Destruction, the End of the Old World, Kazul! Behold, the King of Doom has arrived! "He rests upon the magma and hangs suspended in the dark clouds! His wings cover the sky like burning battle standards, heralding the end of this mortal battlefield—all resistance and glory shall be reduced to ash beneath His dragonflame!"