Slaughter

As Price Ryan drew near the Dragon Tyrant Armament, he watched the suit of armor seemingly come alive. The metal grating separating the two was enveloped by an unseen force, slowly vanishing inch by inch until the corridor reverted to a time when its construction had not yet been completed. The Dragon Tyrant Armament drifted forward through the air, stopping before Price Ryan before merging into his body. The sensation was extraordinary—nothing like the strained, tenuous control he had previously exerted over the armament. Price Ryan felt as though flesh and bone had completely fused with the armor, leaving no division between them. Artross's voice echoed in Price Ryan's mind. "Excellent. Now, you and I are one." The young emperor clenched his fist. A layer of fine, dense dragon scales emerged across the surface of his skin. "This is the true Dragon Tyrant Armament. There is no need to transform into a dragon each time. Your body now possesses the strength of a dragon, and your skin is as durable as dragon scales. Go forth, and resolve your troubles." Price Ryan asked in confusion, "How should I resolve them?" Artross sneered. "Must I teach you even that? What is it you want to do? Who stands in your way?" Price Ryan's eyes ignited with fervor. "They want me to abdicate! They want to kill me!" Artross chuckled. "Precisely. You wish to be emperor, and someone stands in your path. Do you still need me to teach you what to do?" Price Ryan nodded, striding boldly out of the subterranean chamber. His previously cautious steps became firm and deliberate. Magical traps, toxic fumes, razor-sharp blades—Price Ryan ignored them all. An invisible veil of energy wrapped around his body. Sprayed poison gas automatically receded; incoming blades dissolved into molten iron and splashed down; magical traps vanished into nothingness the very instant they were triggered. Such was the power of time: any attack had its time reversed, rendering it incapable of causing the slightest harm. As Price Ryan traversed this deadly passage, the immense commotion inevitably drew a host of guards. Upon seeing that it was the young emperor who had set off the traps, an elderly guard captain said in a low, stern voice, "Your Majesty, have you forgotten how to walk this path? Do you have any idea how much trouble it takes to repair those traps?" Price Ryan glanced at the man and asked coldly, "Are you questioning me?" This old man also bore the surname Ryan. His son had once contested the throne against Price; in the end, Price had won, and the son had become a member of the palace guard. Now, father and son stood together. Price Ryan was about to be deposed, and to cover up the royal family's scandal, he would be executed in secret. The next emperor was very likely to be chosen from among these guards. Because of this, their attitude toward Price Ryan was far from respectful. After all, they were members of the imperial clan, and by seniority, the captain was an elder to this young emperor. Hearing Price Ryan's question, the guard captain replied bluntly, "Even if you are the emperor, you must still abide by the ancestral rules passed down through generations. When you commit an error, what is wrong with me offering a reminder as captain of the guard—Your Majesty?!" He spat out the title 'Your Majesty' with blatant sarcasm, looking down upon Price Ryan with an air of condescension. A ferocious smile spread across Price Ryan's face. "There is indeed a problem, but it is not one you can resolve." *Snap.* Price Ryan snapped his fingers. Before the onlookers could fathom what was happening, the white-haired guard captain suddenly shrieked in agony. The armor on his body rapidly reverted into blistering, molten iron, as though it had returned to the very moment it was cast in the furnace. The horrifying heat seared his skin until blue smoke billowed outward. He struggled desperately, but to no avail. Though he carried several life-saving magical items, they shattered completely the instant they activated. In the end, he was scalded to death right before everyone's eyes. And his son met the exact same fate. Before he could even try to save his father, his own armor liquefied into molten iron, burning him alive. The rest of the guards stared in horror. They realized what had happened: Price Ryan had claimed the Dragon Tyrant Armament, and he was using its power to reverse the time of the iron armor. Yet retrieving the Dragon Tyrant Armament required going through countless layers of protocol. How had he acquired it, and without the elders' permission, how could the armament even be activated? No one could answer. Only Price Ryan burst into uproarious laughter as he stared at the two charred corpses before him. For the first time in his life, he felt truly exhilarated. Was this what it felt like to wield absolute power?! What imperial authority? He himself was the supreme authority! Amidst his wild laughter, Price Ryan unleashed the power of time and slaughtered every guard in sight. The stench of charred flesh choked the corridor, drifting far into the distance. Artross warned, "They had already submitted. You could have easily brought them to heel; there was no need to kill them." An emperor still needed subordinates; one could not handle every minor affair personally. The boy's thirst for slaughter was too intense—like someone repressed for far too long, now losing all restraint. Price Ryan replied, "It matters not. Ryan has hundreds of millions of subjects; people are as plentiful as dirt." Artross fell silent. If he wanted to kill, so be it; there would be plenty more corpses to come anyway. Price Ryan stepped over the blackened corpses and pressed forward, marching straight toward the subterranean chamber where the imperial elders resided. Along the way, everyone who dared bar his path perished. At first, Price Ryan amused himself by playing with the power of time. Later, he simply took blade and sword blows head-on, tearing his opponents apart with his bare hands. The might of a dragon made him invincible; no one in this palace could rival him. For only members of the imperial family lived here, and the Ryan royal house had not produced a legend in many years. Treading a path paved in blood, Price Ryan finally arrived at the underground chamber lined with coffins. Of the original thirteen stone coffins, two had been empty, but not long ago, they had been filled once more. The imperial family never lacked elderly relatives, nor did it lack old men waiting for death. Replacing two deceased elders was a trivial matter. Price Ryan gazed upon the thirteen stone sarcophagi and could not help but sneer, "Just how many emperors have become your puppets? How long do you old corpses intend to keep your stranglehold on this empire?" The stone coffins remained dead silent. The figures within were still immersed in their life-extending dreamscapes, and the attendants who served as their messengers had already had their heads crushed by Price Ryan. "For the sake of our shared bloodline, I grant you a painless death." Price Ryan stepped up to one of the sarcophagi and raised his right hand. With a single downward strike, immense force pulverized the stone coffin, instantly reducing the old man within to mincemeat. One after another, all thirteen stone coffins were shattered by Price Ryan. Ancient flesh and blood splattered across the chamber, staining his body crimson. Paying no heed to the gore, Price Ryan threw his head back and roared toward the ceiling, "From this day forth, I am the sole emperor of Ryan!" Yet Artross cautioned, "Do not celebrate just yet. Do you not still have another problem?" Price Ryan knew who he was referring to: William Garrison, the Shield of the Empire, who was still waiting for him outside the palace. "Is your power insufficient to kill that old man?" Price Ryan asked. "Of course it is enough, but what comes after you kill him? How many legends does the Ryan Empire possess? Can you butcher them all? And even if you could, who will you have left to do your bidding?" Price Ryan asked, "What do you propose? That old man is stubborn to a fault; he will never be swayed by words." Artross advised, "The power of a time dragon is far from simple. Your mastery over time remains too shallow. Who said you must reverse his body to kill him? Why not reverse his memories instead?"