RUMBLE-RUMBLE-RUMBLE…
A surge of wild, explosive energy burst out, engulfing Ethan in an instant.
At the same time, a holy sword slashed through the chaos, cutting straight toward him.
Ethan felt the space around him lock down tight—completely sealed off. That overwhelming force erupted all at once, hammering his body from every direction. Even the blood in his veins started to boil uncontrollably.
He took a quick breath to steady himself.
Then—crack!—a flash of lightning exploded from his body. In the blink of an eye, Ethan vanished, reappearing in a different corner of the battlefield like a bolt of pure electricity.
This teleportation ability was no joke. He could jump around this space endlessly, without any cooldown. No matter how fast Draconiel was, there was no guarantee he could keep up.
The two of them kept flickering through the air, dodging and weaving in a high-speed game of cat and mouse. But eventually, Draconiel snapped. He hadn't expected Ethan to be this fast—fast enough to slip right through his spatial lockdown like it was nothing.
"Quit running if you've got the guts!" Draconiel shouted, completely losing it.
With a roar, he unleashed a tidal wave of power that surged out in all directions.
He was going all in—trying to end Ethan in one devastating blow.
But just as his energy was about to explode outward, Ethan appeared behind him like a ghost, and slammed a thunder-charged fist straight into his shoulder.
"Not running anymore," Ethan said coolly. "Let's settle this fair and square. Just not sure if you've got what it takes to beat me."
A massive surge of power erupted from Ethan's body.
In midair, it coalesced into a weapon—a blade forged from pure magic.
It was none other than the legendary artifact from the Feywild: the Blade of the Fey.
The weapon radiated a pure, unfiltered Fairy aura—raw and untamed.
Too bad he couldn't fully unlock its power yet. At best, he could only tap into about 20% of its potential. But honestly? That might be more than enough.
Draconiel froze when he saw it. His expression twisted in shock.
Clearly, he hadn't expected Ethan to be wielding something this powerful.
Panicking, Draconiel reached behind his head—
—and yanked out his own spine.
His spine wasn't just bone—it was a weapon in its own right. The moment he pulled it free, it pulsed with terrifying energy, sending shockwaves through the air. The very fabric of the world around them began to ripple and churn.
Ethan narrowed his eyes.
He hadn't seen that coming.
With a flick of his blade, he charged forward.
Their weapons clashed—
—and the sound that rang out was eerie, unnatural.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM…
The space around them shattered like glass.
Draconiel's power was overwhelming—no question about it. And that weapon made from his own spine? It wasn't just some creepy trick—it was his life-bound weapon, forged from his very essence. Every strike he unleashed with it hit like a freight train.
If it hadn't been for the Blade of the Fey shielding him, Ethan would've been torn apart.
He sucked in a sharp breath, then quickly stepped back, slipping into evasive maneuvers again.
But Draconiel wasn't about to let him go that easy.
Whoosh! ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝔫𝔢𝔱
Ethan didn't waste time. Energy surged through him as he blinked in and out of sight, flashing across the eighth level of the Sky Citadel. No matter how hard Draconiel tried to track him, he couldn't lock onto Ethan's position.
The battle between their armies was reaching its climax.
And surprisingly? The goblins—those scrappy little fighters who didn't look like much—had completely wiped out Draconiel's forces.
Sure, they'd taken heavy losses too, but a small group of them still stood.
Seeing that, Ethan finally let out a breath of relief.
With a flicker of light, he dropped down into the middle of the goblin ranks.
A surge of raw energy poured out of him, and a new wave of goblins materialized around him.
But these weren't like the ones before.
These goblins were covered in glowing, fiery energy patterns that pulsed across their skin. Power churned inside them, unstable and volatile—like they could explode at any second.
Ethan's voice was cold and commanding:
"My warriors—tear him apart."
A red light flared in their eyes.
These energy goblins didn't think. They didn't hesitate. They just obeyed.
And they did it the only way they knew how—head-on, full force, no holding back.
They surged forward, their energy spiking into dangerous overload.
The first goblin latched onto Draconiel's dragon wing, and in the next instant, its body detonated in a blinding explosion.
The shockwave lit up the entire chamber, fire and debris blasting outward. Stone pillars cracked and crumbled under the force.
Draconiel roared in pain as he was hurled backward, scales shattered, blood spraying through the air.
He barely had time to recover before another goblin launched itself at him, wrapping its arms around his neck.
Another explosion ripped through the air, tearing open the sky itself. Flames roared, and chunks of flesh and armor flew in every direction.
They weren't soldiers.
They were living bombs.
"…Damn," Ethan muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the chaos, a mix of awe and ruthless calculation in his gaze.
Sure, it meant his summoned army wouldn't last long—but in the short term? Their destructive power was on par with a tactical nuke.
By now, dozens of goblins had swarmed Draconiel, clinging to him with everything they had.
One after another, they exploded in rapid succession, the thunderous blasts shaking the entire palace.
The battlefield was swallowed in a storm of fire and destruction, the eighth level of the Sky Citadel lit up like the end of the world.
Ethan stood there, completely stunned by what he was seeing.
All he'd done was give a simple command—
And the goblins had unleashed absolute hell.
He hadn't expected this. Not even close.
He realized, a little too late, that they'd totally misunderstood his order.
They thought "tear him apart" meant self-destruct.
Seriously? That's what they got from that?
And yet… somehow, it worked.
Right now, a swarm of goblins had latched onto Draconiel's body like a pack of rabid beasts—and one after another, they were blowing themselves up.
The explosions just kept coming, relentless and deafening, shaking the entire level of the Sky Citadel. Fire and shockwaves tore through the air, and Draconiel was buried under a storm of living bombs.