Chapter 950: Only One Can Leave
The colossal dragon let out a roar and charged after him. The air shrieked around it, with wind blades flickering in and out of existence in its wake.
Strangely, at this critical mont, it was Isabella, a woman, who had beco the decisive leader for the three of them.
Perhaps this was the true authority of a queen.
Dusk Continent, Above the Skies
The figures of Orion, Alexander, and Leonidas appeared one after another, materializing to face the three demigod phantoms in the distance.
“Three arch lords,” one of the phantoms sneered. “Are you here to stop us?”
“Stop us?” another scoffed. “I think they’re here to get themselves killed.”
“Interesting, interesting,” said the third, its voice laced with mockery. “Two of them are even peak arch lords.”
The three demigod phantoms stared at the newcors with a mixture of amusent, curiosity, and contempt. An arch lord challenging a demigod? It wasn’t unheard of, but it was the kind of legend you never expected to witness firsthand. Besides, any being that powerful wouldn’t be a complete unknown.
“That’s right,” Alexander said, his voice flat. He looked directly at the first phantom who had spoken. “We’re here to stop you.”
He produced a dark, tallic token etched with a single, brutal sigil for ‘Slaughter’. He tossed it towards the demigod.
The token ignored the vast distance between them, phasing through the void and sinking into the phantom’s form. In the next instant, both Alexander and the demigod vanished without a trace.
“What? How is that possible?”
“What just happened?”
The two remaining demigod phantoms reeled in shock. That was a move far beyond the capabilities of any arch lord.
“What’s the matter, country boys? Never seen this trick before?” Leonidas jeered. “Guess your grandpa Leonidas will have to play with you today!”
He produced an identical Sigil of Slaughter and tossed it at one of the remaining phantoms. Just like Alexander, they both disappeared from reality.
“Don’t ask ,” Orion said, as the final, bewildered demigod phantom started to speak. “I don’t know either.”
He flicked his wrist, sending his own token spinning through the air.
The Slaughter Space
Orion and the last demigod phantom appeared simultaneously in a strange, unknown void. Neither made a move, instead taking a mont to survey their new surroundings.
The Slaughter Space was a world painted in shades of gray, choked by a constant, blood-red mist. It felt like a brutal, desolate purgatory.
There was no day or night, no light or shadow, only the oppressive grayness. The only landmark was a colossal mountain range in the distance that didn’t scrape a sky, but pierced the endless, starless void above. The ground beneath their feet was a carpet of countless skeletons from a thousand different species, most of them decayed into dust.
From beyond the mountains, a mournful, keening wail drifted towards them, an eerie and constant funeral dirge.
So this is the Slaughter Space, Orion thought. It wasn’t as over-the-top or terrifying as he’d expected.
In truth, this was his first ti using the Sigil of Slaughter, a gift from Alexander.
He rembered Alexander’s words as he’d handed it to him. The battle can’t happen on Dusk Continent. Three demigods fighting at once could shatter the landmass. Rember, once you use the Sigil of Slaughter, only one person can walk out.
He and the demigod phantom. One survivor.
Orion let out a long, slow breath and looked at the phantom a short distance away.
“Do you have any questions?” Orion asked calmly, making no move to attack. “I can answer them for you. Free of charge.”
“This is all your doing. Why would you be so kind?” the dragon phantom demanded.
“Sorry, it’s my first ti using that thing, too.”
“Where is this place?”
“The Slaughter Space.”
“Hmph. Don’t think I’m an idiot. The Slaughter Space is a supre world of its own.”
Orion just shrugged. “Maybe this is just a forgotten little corner of it.”
“Why did you bring
here?” the demigod pressed, sensing Orion was willing to talk.
“Simple. This place has a rule,” Orion said, his expression still placid. “Between you and , only one can leave.”
“I admire your nerve,” the demigod said, a hint of respect in its voice. “To sacrifice yourself just to delay . Your courage is comndable.”
Orion let out a soft, unreadable chuckle. “May I have your na, honored one?”
“Latychrenber,” the demigod announced, its voice booming as it stared down Orion. “The strongest dragon king of the Brass Dragon race from Uynting Realm.”
For a dragon to give its na like this was a rare sign of respect. “And you? What are you called?”
“Orion.”
“Orion. A short na. No history to it. No legacy. The brave are often stubborn… and the first to die—”
“Honored one,” Orion interrupted smoothly, cutting him off before he could work himself into a battle frenzy. That wasn’t what Orion wanted. Not yet. “Are you perhaps interested in the whereabouts of the World Dragons?”
He watched Latychrenber without blinking, tracking his eyes, his every subtle movent. It was a test. For six dragon demigods to attack at once, they had to know about the World Dragons.
Sure enough, at the ntion of the na, Latychrenber’s massive form went rigid.
“How do you know of the World Dragons?” he demanded.
Orion grinned, a wide, triumphant, and utterly infuriating smile. “Because the one who robbed the tomb of the Great Dragon King of Light Mondusath… was .”
“aning if I kill you, I can get the World Dragons?” Latychrenber’s words ca faster now, laced with an urgent greed.
“I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, honored one,” Orion said, his smile widening. “I cooked and ate them.”
“You—! You DARE!” Latychrenber roared, his composure shattering. Raw killing intent exploded from him. “You damned worm! You are courting death! Did you think I didn’t know you were stalling for ti?”
The dragon laughed, a terrible, grinding sound. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I was stalling for ti, too. And now, it’s over!”
The Brass Dragon demigod raised a claw. Clouds of thick fog instantly billowed into existence, blanketing the area. This was Cloud Mist, a spell that saturated the air with water elents, creating the perfect combat environnt for a dragon.
“Where the mists settle, all things grow heavy, as if carrying a mountain, as if wading through a swamp.”
This was a deeper application of the spell: a Gravitic Mist. The air grew thick, heavy, suffused with the tallic tang of the brass dragon’s own essence.
Latychrenber had allowed Orion to talk for so long because he had been preparing this regulatory domain. Once it was in place, even in the Slaughter Space, this would be his ho turf.
Latychrenber was a demigod, not an idiot. He never believed for a second that three arch lords would be brave enough to challenge demigods without so kind of trick up their sleeves. To be safe, he had been exceptionally cautious, choosing to establish his domain first.
A terrifying pressure slamd down, so imnse that Orion’s feet sank several inches into the bone-strewn ground.
But his expression remained perfectly calm.
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