They were all stunned and bewildered as they watched the young man brandishing a rope dart.
But even in their shock, they could feel it—
The aura emanating from the weapon was no re trick.
It was a peak weapon, terrifying in both essence and form.
The rope dart looked like the tail of a dragon—alive, coiling with primal intent.
Its head was a fang, forged from the raw essence of collapsing stars and newborn worlds, etched with ancient runes that pulsed with the dual rhythm of Creation and Destruction.
Every glint from its edge whispered birth.
Every shadow it cast promised ruin.
The rope shimred like a serpentine thread of existence, woven from the sinews of extinct dragons and the breath of forming realms.
It slithered through the air as though rewriting space with every movent—each motion a dance between forging and unmaking.
Between the fang and coil spun silver Chaosrings, each resonating with the opposing forces of genesis and obliteration.
Twin strears flared from its hilt—
One burned with the fire of creation,
The other trailed the cold mist of annihilation.
They flared like the wings of a divine beast.
This was no weapon.
It was the balance of worlds.
When Drakion saw the weapon in the young man’s hand, he felt a surge of threat pierce through his instincts.
His body reacted—
The Death Reaper was summoned.
Both weapons roared with ancient aura as they clashed against one another—Drakion twirling the Death Reaper, then watching as it morphed.
The sword twisted and elongated into a double black scythe, exuding the chilling aura of death incarnate.
The young man t his gaze.
Both stood still—two divine beings locked in silence before cataclysm.
The Five Elent Dragon and the others watched, spellbound—
One opponent wielding a rope dart like a coiled serpent of ti,
The other gripping a twin-bladed scythe, death swirling in its wake.
The young man narrowed his gaze at Drakion and began spinning the rope dart, gaining montum—
The rope pulsing violently as Originat was channeled through its core.
Then, without warning, he struck.
The rope dart lashed toward Drakion, cutting through the air like divine lightning.
Drakion watched—
And just before the dart’s tip struck, he swung his right scythe, intercepting the attack with a shriek of tal.
The young man retracted the rope dart, but the very clash of their weapons sent shockwaves thousands of miles in every direction.
Cracks spiderwebbed through the earth, tremors rumbling deep beneath the ground.
Drakion countered.
He swung his second scythe, unleashing the Death Crescent Slash.
The young man snorted, eyes glowing with calm destruction.
With his left hand, radiating with Creation Originat, he summoned a shield—
It rose with elegance and absorbed the deadly slash.
Another shockwave detonated.
The Five Elent Dragon moved swiftly, shielding Ski and the others from the brunt of the clash.
Hmph!
The young man scoffed, his blackish-blue eyes igniting—
From them erupted a blackish-blue fla, radiating with the raw power of Destruction and Annihilation.
Drakion’s eyes locked onto the flas.
His two golden fangs began to spin furiously—
They reached out with devouring hunger, attempting to consu the oncoming inferno.
But sothing was wrong.
Despite the eye’s efforts, it couldn’t fully devour it.
The fla landed—searing into his body—trying to break him down from the inside.
But in the next heartbeat, Drakion’s eyes flared with defiance.
The Devouring Fla surged from within—
It wrapped around the invading fire and began consuming it instead.
The fla of Destruction was undone—
Devoured by the very abyss it had tried to extinguish.
The next mont, as the Devouring Fla consud the Destruction Fla, the sharp whistle of sothing ripping through the air resounded—
Drakion’s eyes widened.
The Rope Dart was already upon him—
Too close.
Too fast.
Instinct roared.
The Golden Fang reverted into a single entity and began to spin, trying to devour the oncoming weapon.
But alas...
It was only enough to disrupt it slightly.
The tip of the dart brushed past, tearing a piece of his scale clean off.
Drakion snarled in anger, his gaze burning.
The young man smiled.
The rope dart, having passed through, snapped back as the young man tugged it—
It slithered like a serpent, yet its movent echoed the majesty of a dragon.
Its tip twisted once more—
Aid rcilessly at Drakion.
Blinded by fury, Drakion reacted a heartbeat too late.
He realized the dart was arcing behind him—
But by then, it had already struck, piercing clean through his arm.
The young man’s smile widened as he jerked the rope, raising it skyward—
Drakion’s body, caught and suspended like prey,
was wrenched upward before being slamd into the earth.
The ground cracked open beneath him.
But it wasn’t over.
Destruction Originat surged through the rope and rampaged within Drakion’s body.
He was being dragged like a wounded beast—
Tossed and thrashed.
The young man yanked him forward and greeted him with a brutal punch,
flesh cracking, scales splintering.
But just then—
Sothing shifted.
The black fang of Drakion’s right eye reverted into one and began to spin.
The young man tensed.
This was the eye Drakion hadn’t used until now.
Even the Five Elent Dragon and the others grew wary.
But then, sothing unexpected happened.
The young man suddenly looked down—
At the rope dart in his hands.
He had withdrawn his Originat.
In that instant, Drakion broke free.
"What is this...?"
The confusion in the young man’s voice was unmistakable.
The others could hear it clearly—
And it sent a chill through them.
It lasted only a mont.
Then clarity returned to the young man’s eyes.
And with it, a flicker of sothing rare on his face—
Terror.
He slowly turned to look at Drakion—
And what t him was an evil grin, curling across Drakion’s face like a shadow on the edge of night.
A/N: Continue to support this author with power stones, golden tickets, and gifts—your support is my greatest motivation!
Sorry for the late updates!
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