School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start Chapter 102 -102-The Troublesome Black Protodragon

The more powerful the magic, the longer the preparation ti it usually requires.

The black protodragon’s ability to summon teor showers with a re flick of its tail seed effortless.

Besides this world being its domain, it likely used its conversation with Quincy as a cover to prepare the spell.

The black protodragon proved to be even more troubleso than Quincy.

As the flas dissipated, the black protodragon erged again from sowhere, its expression unchanged as it surveyed the ruins of the castle.

After all, it could restore these scenes with just a thought.

It raised its head to glance at Owen, its eyes filled with probing and inquiry.

Owen, transforming back into his human form with a flap of his wings, remained expressionless.

His stance was clear: he would not intervene in the battle between the black protodragon and Quincy until a victor was decided.

The black protodragon turned its gaze away and let out a low chant towards the ground.

From the billowing black smoke, one demon ape after another rose again.

Like being replenished by celestial fire, they appeared larger, stronger, and faster.

Thick magma oozed from their bodies, hissing as it hit the ground.

Once fully ford, they headed in a particular direction – presumably towards Quincy.

In this world, playing hide-and-seek with the black protodragon was futile.

It could see everything clearly, accurately pinpointing the location of its enemies.

Quincy was no longer at the site of the teor strike.

His instincts, honed in hundreds of years of life-and-death battles, had almost instantly made him use an evasion technique to flee far away.

As soon as Quincy erged, the castle’s weapons like crossbows and cannons turned their aim towards him.

He twitched his lips, "The black protodragon really is shaless."

While such mundane weapons and artillery were useless against Quincy, dealing with them was as irritating as facing a swarm of mosquitoes.

They may not cause harm, but they were certainly annoying.

Quincy once again used his evasion technique, escaping over thirty ters away from beneath the ground.

The black protodragon abandoned its beloved Goddess of Loka statue and climbed onto the ramparts, affectionately rubbing its head against the wall, "This is just the appetizer."

As its words fell, nurous bats flew out of the holes in the walls.

In no ti, over ten thousand bats were swirling above the ramparts, an ominous and terrifying sight.

Half of the bats then dove to the ground, transforming into agile leopards, while the others grouped in the air, morphing into bizarre birds with sharp beaks and bat wings.

The black protodragon, smugly tapping the castle wall, boasted, "An integrated attack from air and ground, can you still turn the tables?"

Quincy, of course, was no easy opponent.

Owen watched as Quincy moved gracefully and swiftly, managing not to sustain any fatal injuries from the leopards or the bizarre birds.

But were the creatures summoned by the black protodragon ordinary? Within a few dozen breaths, Quincy had already suffered several minor and major wounds, his clothes soaked in blood.

The most severe injury was inflicted by one of the monstrous birds.

Although he split the bird in two, its sharp beak managed to slash across Quincy’s face, from forehead to chin, nearly gouging out his eye.

Owen, with arms crossed, stood at a distance, pondering how to persuade the black protodragon after Quincy’s likely demise.

He no longer coveted the Heart of the Ocean, having witnessed the black protodragon’s strength.

Unless a dragon elder intervened, the Heart of the Ocean would not submit.

Confident in his own abilities, Owen was not so arrogant as to overestimate his chances.

Within the black protodragon’s domain, and with its strength surpassing the master-tier, such a level of artifact spirit was beyond Owen’s current reach.

This experience served as an eye-opener.

Perhaps there was a chance to negotiate with the black protodragon in the future, borrowing the power of the Heart of the Ocean to break through the master-tier.

Boyd, out of breath, appeared from sowhere and said, "Owen, you sure ran fast."

Owen was surprised; he had thought Boyd perished in the basent.

"How did you get out?"

"I’m not as strong as you, and my evasion technique is nowhere near Quincy’s level. Purely by luck, I only suffered the aftermath. An epic-tier arcanergy artifact from our race saved my life. But the artifact is destroyed; I don’t know how I’ll explain this to our elders."

Boyd’s face was a picture of distress as he pulled out a mirror-like arcanergy artifact from his chest.

The mirror was shattered, with arcanergy leaking continuously – beyond repair.

Owen casually consoled, "At least you’re still alive."

Boyd mumbled sothing, then sighed deeply, "The Heart of the Ocean is not sothing we should have ddled with. Why did our elders send us here in the first place?"

Owen’s heart skipped a beat.

"So, you weren’t allowed to enter Heartstealer Island before?"

"Yes, Heartstealer Island used to be very precious," Boyd nodded.

"It was a place only accessible to the geniuses of the neptune and rfolk races. Only this year were other sea race talents allowed, probably to enhance the overall strength of the sea race."

A sense of foreboding gripped Owen, his eyebrows twitching uncontrollably.

Quincy, landing next to Stanbeck, whispered, "I need thirty seconds of uninterrupted ti. Can you manage that?"

Stanbeck, gravely injured, dragged his battered body and sneered, "How can I help you? Owen has already diminished most of my fighting strength."

Quincy revealed a round, erald-green pill in his hand: "Myriad Woods Vitality Elixir. You know what this is, right?"

Stanbeck’s pupils constricted, then he looked at Quincy with a fiery gaze, "Of course, I know. That’s comparable to an epic-tier arcanergy artifact, capable of instantaneously healing all injuries. Are you really willing to give it to ?"

"Certainly, as long as you can hold off those demon apes for thirty seconds in return."

Stanbeck bit his teeth, aware that the longer his injuries lingered, the more severe the damage to his essence would be: "Alright, thirty seconds it is."

With a flick of his finger, Quincy dropped the Myriad Woods Vitality Elixir into Stanbeck’s mouth.

As the pill entered, it instantly transford into a surge of rich life essence, perating Stanbeck’s body.

His wounds emitted a vibrant green glow, akin to Owen’s Erald Blessing, as the life force rapidly repaired his body.

In just a few breaths, Stanbeck was fully rejuvenated, brimming with vitality.

"Truly worthy of an elixir, such a level of healing potion is incredibly rare and valuable."

Erin had been learning to craft magic potions, but in a year’s ti, she had only mastered simple concoctions.

These potions were generally level 1 or level 2, but at level 4, the term ’potion’ no longer applied, and they were referred to as elixirs.

Elixirs contained far greater energy than potions.

This ant that the Myriad Woods Vitality Elixir was at least a level 4 magic potion or higher, which could fetch a large estate of ten to twenty thousand square feet in the capital of the Kingdom of Laine.

The most crucial aspect was that such potions were priceless, especially vital in critical monts.

Stanbeck let out a roar and a long sword appeared in his hand, charging towards the bizarre birds and demon apes.

Behind him materialized a giant, muscular phantom wielding a similar sword, almost a mirror image of Stanbeck himself.

The neptune race was one of the most unique races in Novalia continent.

From birth, they could summon the God of Sea from their bloodline to battle.

The forms of the God of Sea varied greatly – so wielding swords, others spears or tridents.

There were even neptune race mbers whose summoned God of Sea appeared with an apron, brandishing a frying pan.

This versatility was one reason why the neptune race was considered an advanced race.

Outnumbered? No problem.

After all, in this era, a group fight was a man’s true joy.

As the monsters approached, Stanbeck effortlessly executed two horizontal slashes, followed by a vertical cut into the air.

Where his blade passed, a giant sword phantom, extending three ters longer than his own, appeared.

The giant assisted Stanbeck with what he couldn’t reach and supplented his strikes.

In an instant, the field was aflash with cold light and sword energy, and the encircling monsters were all cleanly slain by him.

The terrifying prowess of a master-tier genius from the neptune race should never be underestimated.

"Really impressive, the neptune race’s cultivation thod is just too overpowered," Boyd comnted, his tone tinged with a hint of envy.

Owen remained silent.

Each race in Novalia continent had its own secret cultivation thods, difficult for other races to learn due to bloodline requirents.

With the imdiate threats eliminated, Quincy produced an ivory carving.

Biting his finger, he dabbed his blood onto the carving.

Owen’s eyes suddenly narrowed, focusing intently.

In his vision, Quincy appeared larger, and the details of the ivory carving beca vividly clear.

The carving was exquisitely detailed, its features delicate.

Quincy sared his blood over the entire carving, then released it.

The carving naturally floated in the air.

"Here it cos, Quincy. What secrets are you hiding?"