Seeing Drunken Dream on the brink of death, Denoka let out a desperate cry. With a violent twist of his body, he swung his tail and darted in to save him.
Daloré snorted dismissively. "Even your War Supreme father wouldn't dare turn his back on me."
In a flash, Daloré transformed into his true dragon form.
Among the four Great Dragon Kings, no one could match him in sheer size.
He was a floating amethyst mountain—so massive it crushed the air from your lungs.
In front of him, Denoka looked like a worm beneath an eagle's talon.
Dragon Kin Bloodline: Claws of the Great Wyrm!
Denoka turned in panic, only for Daloré to seize half his body in one colossal claw. A casual squeeze, and—
Fatal Strike - 25 million!
More than just damage. Denoka's body froze midair, locked in a paralysis so heavy it was almost visible. A new debuff appeared:
[Mark of No Seal]—a passive trait of Purple-Gold Dragons.
Each successful hit inflicted intense stiffness, sealing off lower-tier skills.
Stacked to five, it would seal the target completely, making them unable to act.
"Holy Light Dragonform!"
Drunken Dream roared, and divine light cascaded from above. Denoka's crystalized body shuddered violently, exploding into shimmering shards.
He broke free of Daloré's claws, his health bar rapidly recovering.
"You trying to get my beast killed?"
Drunken Dream was livid, turning sharply to glare at his teammates.
"What are you all standing around for? Is the almighty Godslayer Guild scared stiff?"
Blank snorted, summoning her Domain Master raptor.
"Dead is dead. Not like I haven't died before."
Bradley shrugged and leapt onto her mount without hesitation.
Madman shot a look at the Guild's Female Dorm God and grinned. "Stewart, time for Plan B."
"Plan B? Wait, what was Plan A?" Stewart blinked in confusion.
"Ahem... Plan A was to run for our lives. But this jackass insists we stay and die."
Madman rubbed his neck awkwardly.
"Go, go, go! Drunken Dream's about to drop—time to mess up this damn dragon king!"
Bradley had no patience left. He was already climbing aboard. Stewart gently patted the little lamb in his arms.
"Alright, fluffy boy... that big lizard in the sky says no milk for you. Time to teach him a lesson."
The lamb let out a harmless bleat.
Blank blinked, completely baffled.
A fuzzy, soft-looking lamb—with nothing but high HP—was going to "teach" the Purple-Gold Dragon King a lesson?
"The hell is that thing...?"
Orson squinted and opened the lamb's status screen.
The little guy had been acting as Stewart's heal dummy: the more healing spells it received, the more its HP increased.
But even with a Super God-grade Soul Seal backing it, Orson couldn't see its skill set.
Even Stewart himself was confused.
The creature hadn't formed a contract or become an official battle pet. It just followed him around because... it liked the taste of his healing spells.
"I'm gonna die here, guys!"
Drunken Dream shouted as he crawled out of the crater in the ground.
Overhead, Denoka and Lilith were barely dodging Daloré's next barrage of attacks.
"Sorry... they're all drama queens," Blank muttered, slightly embarrassed.
"Ahhhh! Wait for me!"
Stewart screamed. His lamb bleated along as they were yanked into the air by the raptor, hurtling straight toward the Purple-Gold Dragon King.
"You burrowing insects... you've never been worth my attention."
Daloré's voice boomed down from above. His body was suddenly covered in crystalline armor—spikes of purple crystal exploding from his hide like a living war fortress.
The crystals burst outwards in a brilliant halo of violet, like a star ring expanding through the sky.
King's Authority: Eternal Seal!
"Dodge it! Contact will result in sealing—even high-tier cleanse spells won't work!"
Drunken Dream shouted.
Blank's raptor twisted in midair, using its species' innate ability [Phantom Step] to slip between the oncoming ring of crystal shrapnel.
"Death God Dragon Queen... is this how low you've fallen? Come challenge me yourself!"
The crystalline rings expanded, covering the sky. The pressure grew suffocating. There would be no safe place in the air once the formation completed.
"They can't win this."
Crimson Lizard King stated coldly.
"I know. I want to see their limit," Orson said calmly. "Now go shut that dragon up."
Crimson Lizard King's body twisted as she launched into the sky, cloaked in death's shadow.
King's Authority: Death's Disdain.
All rules below quasi-divinity were nullified.
The shadow of death rolled across the palace skies.
The amethyst star ring shattered instantly under its weight.
Daloré let out a strange, low sigh.
"Even if I can't use my laws... don't think you've won."
He didn't fear close combat.
Despite Crimson Lizard King's overwhelming physical prowess, Daloré had more size, more defense, more health, more levels.
He was built to endure.
Denoka blasted a dragon breath beam toward him, but Daloré's combat instincts were years beyond any average NPC's.
He shrank into human form, touched down, and sidestepped with ease.
"Just what I was waiting for!"
Bradley ignited his thrusters.
Blank swooped in from behind.
Dragon transformation had a 30-second cooldown—this was their window!
"Small minds. Such pitiful cunning."
Daloré scoffed. Human form sacrificed power for mobility. His agility surged—far surpassing the players.
Blank's dual daggers, glowing with shadow energy, struck out like lightning.
Daloré swatted them aside with a single hand.
His counterkick exploded like a bomb.
Blank barely had time to cross her blades before being launched dozens of meters through the air. She twisted mid-flight and just managed to land safely.
Weapon Durability - Broken!
She looked down in horror. Her blades were chipped and curling.
A single casual blow had destroyed her top-tier weapons.
"Can we even kill this thing...?"
And yet... they had all seen it.
Golden Dragon King Soros—soloed by Orson.
Blank smirked. Once upon a time, she'd dreamed of killing him a thousand times over.
Now? Just thinking it seemed laughable.
Daloré's every strike was like thunder—obliterating the palace buildings around them.
"Who dares make noise in the royal compound—ARRGH!"
A squad of Imperial guards had barely approached before they were torn to pieces by the shockwaves.
Overguard Limit Exceeded - 60,000!
Daloré turned his fury on Bradley.
But something was wrong. The satisfying crunch of his axe biting into flesh... was missing.
Bradley moved like mist—untouchable.
"You intrigue me," Daloré muttered, sensing something off.
The silver-haired man seemed to exist in another layer of reality, constantly just out of reach.
"Fast moves don't mean much. I've got better hands than you even when I'm melee."
Bradley's grin widened. His greatsword crackled with power.
Light-Dark Arcanum: Awakening — Dimensional Rift Slash!
Orson's eyes widened.
"He learned that?! That bastard was holding back!"
This was the move Glacier used to cripple a golden dragon during the Dragon Wars.
The sword ripped open space—forming a swirling black-and-white vortex.
S-Class Arcanum: Dimensional Rift Slash.
Within its range, all enemies had their speed drastically reduced.
Multiple hits could trigger a 30% HP-based execution effect.
Daloré's body trembled.
He tried to move—transform—but the vortex resisted.
"He's trying to shift forms!" Blank yelled.
Daloré growled, horns sprouting as his transformation began.
"Off with your head!"
Bradley roared, driving his blade toward the exposed neck.
Crippling Strike - 2.3 million!
Purple dragon blood sprayed into the air.
Daloré managed to block the vital blow—losing a hand in the process—but still began transforming.
"In my sky... you are nothing."
With a final snarl, he burst into full dragon form and launched skyward.
A totally jarring, high-pitched lamb bleat echoed through the air.
Daloré froze mid-air.
A warmth spread across the top of his head.
The legendary, millennium-ruling Purple-Gold Dragon King—
Was being crapped on.