When the Demigod had first appeared above Brightgate City, what consumed Michael was anger.
Of course, he only allowed himself that anger because he already knew he could handle a Demigod, provided she wasn't too far beyond what he had prepared for.
He hadn't expected someone of that level to e for him at all, which was precisely why he hadn't fled the moment she appeared.
However, beneath the anger of someone wanting his life lay something more calculated.
An eye for an eye.
In truth, his main purpose had never been simple revenge. It was demonstration. If it was said that Rank Three was the first true step toward being recognized as a power in the universe, then Rank Four could be called the backbone of any civilization.
Even great races like elves and star humans treated their Rank Four individuals as treasures, because not everyone could reach that level. The true measure of any civilization was not its territory or its wealth, but how many Rank Four existences it possessed and how powerful those individuals were.
Demigods were then the pillars and rulers of a realm. One-man armies. To defeat even a single Demigod through sheer numbers alone, a force would need hundreds of powerful Rank Four supernaturals working in perfect concert.
If Michael could demonstrate that he alone possessed the ability to match that level of threat, the implications would be immediate and far-reaching.
Setting aside the foreign forces already making their way toward Aurora, even the Federation and the demonic supernaturals would be forced to treat him with extreme caution. They would have to reconsider every calculation they had ever made about him.
This thought process had been born from a necessary but forceful realization. Now that he stood on a universal stage, the only language that carried real weight was power.
If he wanted to protect everything he had, everything he cared about, he could not afford to be treated as prey any longer. The moment he allowed that impression to take root, he would lose everything.
This was also why Michael believed the female Demigod had struck when she did. Rather than wait while the entire universe's attention converged on him, it was probably better to kill him now.
If she succeeded before the wider world had time to react, his death would bear no consequence. At least, that was what Michael believed her reasoning to be.
However, what Michael had not expected was for the effects of his trump card to exceed every calculation he had made.
Instead of his Undead High Drake desperately struggling to keep pace with a Demigod, it was the Demigod who was receiving a beating. A sustained, one-sided beating that grew more embarrassing for her with every passing exchange.
He knew, of course, that this wouldn't last forever, especially since he was on a time limit. Even with the Undead High Drake's current absurd defensive capability and raw physical dominance, the female Demigod was not going to simply fall.
Her recovery speed alone was a nightmare, and the moment the Enhancer's effects ran out, the balance would shift. Michael didn't think a 200% boost to the Undead High Drake would produce a massive upgrade in strength regardless.
Also, if he gave the drake freedom to use its magic and unleash another dragon breath at full force, he was genuinely more worried about the collateral damage to the surrounding region than about whether it would hurt the Demigod. She was not a stationary fighter.
The attack would certainly hurt her if it connected, but whether the undead high drake could kill her before it leveled everything else within a hundred kilometer radius was the real question.
All of this pointed toward one conclusion. The female Demigod would eventually be defeated the longer this went on. But not soon, and probably not within the time limit imposed on him.
When the Federation Demigods arrived, the finishing blow, and the prestige that came with it, would also not be his.
Michael was not happy with any of this, on the outside or within.
His heart rate began climbing.
A ready-made Rank Five undead.
His breathing, usually so controlled, became noticeably less steady.
The Federation would be here soon. That was the problem. Once they arrived, the battle would likely end.
The female Demigod would either escape or be killed by someone else. Either oute closed the window permanently. Which meant if he wanted her, he needed to act before that window closed.
Fortunately, not all hope was lost yet.
Though the energy consumption needed to maintain his skill was high, Michael still had enough.
After all, the current power his Undead High Drake could output had largely nothing to do with him directly. The boost in strength came from his gift and the Three-Star Epic Grade Enhancer.
All he needed to do was maintain the law skill that made all of this possible.
And with his current level of achievement in law cultivation, Michael could use his law skill on two creatures simultaneously.
Yes.
With his remaining energy, Michael was planning on having one more Demigod-level batant enter the field.
Surely that much wasn't impossible, right?
"However, who do I choose?"
In fact, Michael already had someone in mind.
Lucky.
Seeing the effect the Enhancer had produced in the Undead High Drake, wouldn't Lucky also undergo a dramatic transformation if he merged it with the traits of Beginning and the Undead High Drake?
Wouldn't that give him two dragons for the remaining seventeen minutes?
It was an exciting thought. But unfortunately, after a quick moment of honest reflection, Michael knew the reality would be much different.
While he might be able to produce another temporary false dragon, it would not reach the level of the Undead High Drake.
Lucky's foundation simply wasn't strong enough.
Though its dragon blood and evolution into Epic Grade had granted it more levels than others who started at the same grade, it still wasn't parable to the Undead High Drake, a peak Rank Four creature at level 100, also carrying dragon blood.
But if not Lucky, then who?
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