The surrounding environnt started to beco less real, and the sounds seed to co from a far-off place. Roger’s soul drifted, watching his body gradually turn to dust in the clash of two forces.
Then he saw a figure’s back.
A plain white robe, clean and tidy, without any unnecessary decorative patterns. From the back, only the graceful contours of the figure and the platinum hair tied behind her head could be seen.
"Are you ready for the final battle?"
The severed arm on the table automatically jumped up, connecting to the Lord of the Mist’s arm.
"So many have died, it’s finally your turn!"
"Crunch!"
The table in front was overturned, and the rolling Black Tide ca rushing towards the location where Roger and the other were.
"Ophelia!"
The earth cracked a gap, then spread across the whole city. Amidst the cataclysm, the world beca dark and then completely shattered.
"Was everything just an illusion earlier?"
Roger murmured, yet heard no sound. Then he saw his own ethereal Spiritual Body, while his physical body had long disappeared.
Like the Hunter’s Cabin, was the previous city the Lord of the Mist’s personal world? But how did the Primordial Dragon enter it?
Focusing his concentration, Roger again visited the depths of his consciousness in the Hunter’s Cabin; despite the realm being elevated, his circumstances were similar to long ago.
Except for being unable to unleash physical strength, Roger himself did not lose much combat ability.
But soon, he realized it was all aningless, as the battle between the Lord of the Mist and the other was entirely beyond his understanding and involvent.
Contrary to imagination, although Ophelia, the Primordial Dragon, had a figure that was shapely, her appearance could only be considered average.
Perhaps even overly ordinary.
This ordinariness was not a deliberate mystery or low-key.
It was a strange kind of harmony.
Harmonious within herself, harmonious with the surrounding environnt, harmonious with this Plane, ordinary yet transcendent, thought-provoking.
On her body’s surface appeared five golden rings, these halos seemingly rged together, yet within the entire void existed a powerful force connected to Ophelia.
As if she were a part of this Plane.
The sa went for the Lord of the Mist.
Both engaged in close combat, no complex moves, which might seem laughable to an ordinary person.
But Roger found no humor, feeling that every movent of Olifia led to earth-shattering destruction.
The Four Rings and Five Rings, although only different by one level, their disparity was like heaven and earth.
In the waves of their attack, Roger had nowhere to hide, only able to drift along while worrying about not dying from their residual attacks.
"You’re no match for !"
Olifia had the upper hand, she grabbed the Lord of the Mist’s neck, and with a slight force, tore off the shoulder of the arm that had just been severed.
Her eyes emitted golden light, her palm raised high.
"Destruction!"
Bang!
Even if not directly affecting Roger, just being slightly impacted made him tremble all over, his soul nearly collapsing instantly.
"Waited for so long, it’s finally ti!"
"Fusion of soul and body!"
Ophelia’s expression remained calm, yet her actions were exceptionally wild, tearing off the limbs of the Lord of the Mist, her raised arms delivered earth-shattering blows on the opponent’s forehead.
Every attack brought bizarre vibrations, and this power transmitted outward, solidifying the scattered limbs into a special position.
"Ha ha ha!" The Lord of the Mist’s forehead caved in, his gaze still scatter despite the unceasing laughter.
"It’s useless, useless!"
"My Soul Body lies far away in the Sea of Mist, killing now will only weaken part of my power, while it will make greedily extract the essence of this Plane!"
"Thus, as a Guardian, killing ans the demise of ordinary people on this Plane!"
Bang, bang, bang!
Ophelia’s expression remained calm, the frequency of her attacks grew faster, until the Lord of the Mist’s limbs were thoroughly confined. A mysterious power connected the scattered limbs with the body, and then she stopped her actions.
"That was before, not now!"
A shadow of the Golden Dragon vaguely appeared behind Ophelia, her hands crossed, then the robe on her body’s surface suddenly shattered, revealing the body beneath.
Roger widened his eyes, not because this mont allowed him ti to admire Ophelia’s curves, but due to the incredibly complex lines on the woman’s body.
Just a casual glimpse made Roger’s soul roar.
Simple lines each embodied a rule.
Nurous lines converged, forming five rings, the rings intertwined again, birthing the Plane’s essence.
Roger couldn’t comprehend what this essence was, it contained Dragonborn bloodline, vitality...and so on.
Only he could see this scene, if other Transcendents were to glance a few tis, they might go insane because of it.
It’s no wonder the Lord of the Mist called Ophelia a strange woman, for those powerful Transcendents, she only needed to reveal her wrist and beckon.
Without needing any charm, the patterns on her fingertips were enough to drive anyone mad.
Roger’s realm was far stronger than that of ordinary Transcendents, and he quickly found where these patterns originated.
That was the beginning of the bloodline’s power.
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