Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

A few days later, in the Vophal Dragon Domain.

Dawn spread across the sea's edge, tinting the entire dragon domain a soft gold-red. For the metallic dragons inhabiting the domain, the distinction between day and night mattered less than the spread of a single piece of news.

Before the cliffside sea-cliffs at the southern edge of the domain.

Gabriel crouched in the shallow waters, letting the tide wash over his claws.

He used a claw-tip to toy with a pretty pebble he’d fished up from the bottom. The stone gleamed with a warm orange glow under the morning light, its surface smooth and pleasing to the touch.

He turned the pebble over and over in his grip, mulling over whether to add it to his hoard.

After a bit of polishing, it might even pass for a gemstone to bulk up his collection.

The Dragon Father was wealthy, commanding nearly an entire continent’s worth of surface resources. But his father’s riches were not his own. Gabriel, having spent most of his years in the dragon domain, lacked the channels to amass wealth himself. His personal hoard was rather... modest.

Suddenly, the frantic beating of wing membranes came from the west.

Gabriel had barely lifted his head when a Brass Dragon practically crash-landed into the shallows, sending a wave of seawater splashing right over him and soaking his tail.

"Gabriel! Have you heard?!"

The Brass Dragon hadn’t even caught its breath, wings still half-spread, water dripping down the membranes.

"Your father, the Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, the God-Slaying Dragon! He killed a divine incarnation on Arotala! An incarnation of the Beast of Might!"

It stared intently at Gabriel, waiting for a reaction.

"Wait, what kind of expression is that?"

Across from it, Gabriel’s expression remained flat, but the corner of his mouth kept twitching upward, only to be forcibly pressed down each time. His jaw muscles spasmed repeatedly, creating a subtle, conflicted look.

"Rushing about like that—hardly befitting a metallic dragon."

Gabriel kept his face tight, struggling to suppress his smile.

Mimicking the dignified, reserved demeanor of his elders from memory, he slowed his pace and said, "I’ve known about this for a while. It’s nothing major—just one more legend added to my father’s many."

At the same time.

A Bronze Dragon crawled up from a creek, half a fish still dangling from its mouth. Catching snippets of the conversation, it dropped the fish aside. A Silver Dragon glided down from a ridge.

More metallic dragons gathered.

In no time, over a dozen young metallic dragons formed a loose semicircle, their scales reflecting a rainbow of colors in the morning light. These were the rising generation of Vophal Dragon Domain, not yet ready to stand on their own.

And at the very center stood the Red Emperor’s son, Gabriel Ignas.

His posture was dignified and composed, his jaw tight, his chin slightly raised—a leader in the making.

He could feel the gazes fixed on him, all waiting for him to speak.

"Alright, what have you all heard?"

Gabriel began slowly, his voice unhurried. His gaze swept across every dragon present. He let them speak first.

A slightly older Bronze Dragon was the first to pipe up. "I heard that his father, the Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, killed a divine incarnation in Morainra. The blood moon of Nausil supposedly weakened the incarnation, and the Red Emperor just... finished it off."

"Finished it off?"

The Brass Dragon next to it immediately scoffed. "That was a divine incarnation! Even if it was weakened, not just anyone could finish it off. You try it—bet you couldn’t even reach its toe."

A few stifled chuckles rippled through the crowd.

"I know that," the Bronze Dragon insisted. "I’m just saying he didn’t do it alone. He had Nausil’s moon backing him."

"But that’s not what I heard."

A younger Silver Dragon pushed forward, squeezing past a Brass Dragon and earning an annoyed glare.

"I have a Brass Dragon cousin on Arotala."

"You know, Elmo—he came to Vophal Dragon Domain five years ago."

A few dragons nodded, showing they remembered.

"Earlier tonight, I contacted him to get the scoop."

The Silver Dragon paused, making sure all eyes were on it before continuing with satisfaction. "As it happens, that cousin also took part in the empire’s war and witnessed the whole thing firsthand!"

"He was on the battlefield’s edge, close enough to see everything."

"He said the Red Emperor didn’t win because of the blood moon."

"Quite the opposite. The divine incarnation shattered the blood moon, then set its sights on the Red Emperor, wanting to crush him."

"And then?" the Brass Dragon urged.

"After a world-shaking battle," the Silver Dragon lowered its voice, making every dragon unconsciously lean in closer, "the Red Emperor tore the divine incarnation apart. Ripped it to shreds through sheer, brutal combat."

As soon as it finished, a more rational dragon objected.

"Wrong, wrong."

Another Gold Dragon spoke up. "The Red Emperor is strong, but he’s still only crown-level. How could he defeat a divine incarnation head-on? The gap between crown-level and a divine incarnation isn’t something willpower or combat skill can bridge."

The Silver Dragon shook its head, its tone absolute.

"That’s where you’re wrong."

"My cousin said the Red Emperor displayed the power of an Immortal during the empire war. All that crown-level stuff? Definitely a disguise. It’s like those Gold Dragons who like to set traps—first act weak, then strike back. He’s the same."

"Do you have proof?"

"My cousin saw it with his own eyes! He swore on his dragon honor and dignity that he wasn’t lying."

This cousin of yours—who is he exactly?

And how did he get to participate in the empire war?

Gabriel shot a glance at the Silver Dragon.

He tilted his head slightly, wearing a carefully practiced expression—a mix of reluctance and hesitation.

Gabriel had trained that look for a long time.

His brow had to be slightly furrowed but not worried, his lips pressed tight but not tense, his gaze distant but not vacant. Sure enough, once that expression appeared, all eyes snapped back to him.

The arguing quieted down.

Gabriel savored it.

This feeling of being surrounded like stars around the moon, all eyes waiting for him to speak, filled him with immense satisfaction.

Just then, another Gold Dragon sidled up and nudged his flank with a wingtip.

"Gabriel, you tell us."

"You’d know best. You’re the Red Emperor’s offspring."

"Exactly! Your father must have told you the truth. It can’t be wrong—much more reliable than some random cousin."

"Come on, spill it! Don’t hold back!"

Voices rose one after another, laced with impatience and expectation.

Gabriel cleared his throat, slowly sweeping his tail across the sand.

"Everyone, I can’t reveal too much," he began slowly. "After all, this was a private conversation between the Dragon Father and me. You understand—some information involves important strategic considerations. It’s not that I don’t want to share, but as the dragon son, I have a duty to keep certain necessary secrets."

"However..."

He added, "You’re free to continue your own guesses. The truth always becomes clearer through debate. I’ll just listen and won’t correct anything."

With that, he gave a meaningful smile.

Seeing Gabriel like this, the dragons nodded with half-understanding, then resumed their lively discussion.

And as the talk continued, dragons added details one after another.

The story grew increasingly exaggerated.

Finally, after a chorus of contributions and embellishments, all the claims coalesced into a complete version:

The Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, facing two at once, beat both of Kantum’s Saints to their knees and humiliated them severely.

The god of the Kantum Empire, enraged, descended as an incarnation onto the battlefield, intending to crush this arrogant mortal dragon.

The Scarlet Emperor Cangxing refused to retreat, engaging the divine incarnation in fierce combat. The shockwaves of their battle shattered the elves’ moon into countless fragments, which still floated in the night sky like broken ice.

In the end, the divine incarnation was engulfed by the dragon’s blazing breath, reduced to ash.

"Is that right, Gabriel?"

After the final version was told, the dragons all turned to the Emperor’s son, their eyes probing.

Gabriel met their gazes, his face calm as still water, but inwardly he rolled his eyes.

*I don’t know the specifics either, damn it. Curse you, Father—you only said half the story. I don’t know any more than you do!*

He thought.

But he didn’t show it.

When you don’t know the answer, let the questioner find it themselves.

So he only offered another meaningful smile and a slight nod, his inscrutable expression unwavering.

"Some details in your information are definitely exaggerated," he said slowly. "My father did kill a divine incarnation—that is certain."

"As for the process, he doesn’t like to boast. You know—true strength doesn’t need bragging to prove itself."

He neither confirmed the exaggerated details nor outright denied them.

His words were ambiguous, but that very ambiguity left a huge space for imagination.

To the other dragons, Gabriel’s answer basically meant confirmation.

A direct endorsement from the dragon son himself carried far more weight than some distant cousin.

Thus, the version personally verified by the Emperor’s son, including all the embellished details, spread like wildfire—from one to ten, from ten to a hundred—and soon covered all of Vophal Dragon Domain.

The metallic dragons devoured the story with relish.

Almost every dragon was talking about it.

Meanwhile, the news blazed across the Atlantis Continent like wildfire.

Although different regions varied in details, the core message was the same:

The rising Master of Atlantis had personally visited Arotala, and Nausil’s moon was shattered, while Kantum’s divine incarnation fell.

Within the Aola Kingdom, reverence for the Emperor reached its peak.

From the start, the citizens of Aola had regarded the Emperor as a god.

In official imperial propaganda, the Emperor’s power was beyond doubt. In folk tales passed mouth to mouth, his achievements were unmatched.

But they weren’t foolish. Deep down, they knew.

Their Emperor, though invincible, had always fallen just short of the true gods.

Now, that gap had closed.

The great Red Emperor, with a single blast of dragon breath, had sprayed down the deity itself!

Yes.

As the message was re-coded and relayed through bards’ songs, merchant caravans’ dispatches, and more, by the time it reached some remote cities of the Aola Kingdom, the divine incarnation had smoothly transformed into the true god itself.

As for Nausil’s moon—

In the common folk’s understanding, the great Red Emperor, in his fierce battle with the god, had kicked it apart like a pebble, leaving it shattered by the shockwaves.

No one thought this claim was exaggerated.

The End of All Things.

The God-Slayer.

The Cataclysm Dragon.

After this battle, the Red Emperor’s name had gained several new titles.

This wasn’t just confined to the Material Plane, either.

In the Serene Spirit Wilderness, at the Verdant Homeland.

The faerie dragon Vira was sprawled atop a giant water lily, letting the sunlight warm her scales.

She loved this spot. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, lighting up half her body in a shimmering glow.

Just as she was nodding off, a tall figure jogged toward her from the teleportation array, following her earlier instructions to relay news from the Material Plane.

"Wait—what?! You’re saying the Red Emperor killed a true god?"

Vira’s eyes flew open, her entire body bouncing off the lily.

"Yes."

The centaur’s chest puffed higher than usual, his shoulder armor’s Aola emblem polished to a bright shine.

With pride, he said, "Before His Majesty, gods are nothing more than fleeting dust in the wind."

"There’s absolutely no mistake."

Vira was ecstatic. Her wings fluttered, creating small cyclones in the air around her.

"What exactly happened? Tell me everything you know! Every single detail!"

So the centaur spilled all the versions he’d heard to the impatient faerie dragon.

A long while later, Vira turned away, completely satisfied, her mind brimming with new material.

She flew over flowers and canopies, then gathered every friend she could find to update them on her biography.

A single stone stirred a thousand waves.

From the Serene Spirit Wilderness, the story of a god-slayer from the Material Plane began spreading rapidly to more distant regions.

Meanwhile.

West of the Atlantis Continent, the Breckton Kingdom.

The temple hall was vast, its dome so high it nearly disappeared into shadow.

Wind poured in through high windows, crashed against the walls, and was then blocked by a colossal dragon form.

A dragon covered in deep blue-black scales coiled there. With every breath, countless tiny sparks crackled between his scales, flickering and dying in the air around him like an ever-woven and ever-dissipating web of electricity.

The Apostle of the Immortal Dragon Queen, the Chosen Storm Dragon.

Lord of Thunder, Lamorein.

"Lamorein, my child, my apostle."

A voice spoke, resounding directly in his mind. As always, it was gentle.

But that gentleness was not the comfort of a spring breeze.

It was more like a winter hearth—warm when you got close, but everyone knew what happened when the flames licked up.

Lamorein opened his eyes. Lightning seemed to flash within his pupils.

"One by one, temples rise from the ground. Offerings of blood tax are continuously presented. I have received them. I am satisfied."

The voice carried the warmth of approval.

But then, the tone shifted.

"Yet this is not enough. You have already secured the foundation of faith. Now it is time to extend your claws and fangs. Punish the rebellious ones who have offended your mother’s dignity."

"Let his subjects know that my glory will not tolerate rejection forever."

Hearing this, Lamorein slowly retracted his tail to his side, his voice respectful and low.

"Great mother, your will is my mission. To punish the rebellious and spread your glory—these matters I keep constantly in mind."

He paused, lifting his eyes.

"But the primary mission you gave me remains unfinished."

The arcs crackled between his dragon horns as the Lord of Thunder continued. "This land that provides you with blood tax should have become your divine realm on the Material Plane."

"I have traveled this land spreading your teachings, building your temples, gathering your followers."

"Yet too many insignificant beings defy your glory."

"They say you are but a false god, and I am merely the fang of a false god."

Lamorein bared his sharp teeth, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "Mother, I cannot tolerate such profanation."

"How dare those lowly, tiny creatures, who exist only by the grace of dragons, question and profane your greatness?"

"They do not worship your glory, yet they dare to slander your name with the vilest words!"

He lowered his head again. "Please, allow me to first cleanse these vermin, so that in their final moments, they will remember your name."

"Lamorein."

The voice remained gentle. "I have always been patient with my children. Do you know why?"

"Because you are merciful, great mother."

"Merciful? That is only part of it."

The Chromatic Queen laughed softly. "More importantly, true loyalty takes time to temper."

"What I need are children who can make judgments for me, who can share my burdens—not mere shells that only follow orders."

"So I give you time and space."

"I tolerate your stubbornness, and even those... little hesitations in your heart."

As she spoke, her voice suddenly dropped.

"But patience is not infinite, my child."

"Even the most merciful mother can lose her temper."

Lamorein bowed his head. "I understand," he said, his voice even deeper than before. "I will not let your patience turn to disappointment. Give me a little more time. I will make every inch of this land remember that your sacredness is not to be profaned."

"Then, I will complete my other missions."

"Punish whom you wish punished. Spread what you wish spread."

"Very good."

The Dragon Queen’s voice returned to its original speed and gentleness. "Go do what you must, my child. Remember, I will always stand behind you, giving you my full trust and blessings. Always."

Lamorein bowed his head deeply, his horns nearly touching the ground.

"Glory to you, great mother."

The temple fell silent once more. The Dragon Queen’s will had withdrawn. Only the wail of wind through the high windows and the crackle of electricity between Lamorein’s scales remained.

Outside the temple, a storm was brewing.

Thick clouds rolled in from the west, piling layer upon layer, blotting out the light until it felt like dusk. Thunder rumbled across the sky, growing denser, as if an unseen hand was beating a war drum within the clouds.

Lamorein slowly rose to his feet, gazing into the distance.

*God-slayer... Scarlet Emperor Cangxing.*

He was silent.

He knew why the Dragon Queen had urged him today.

She likely felt she could wait no longer.

That red iron dragon was growing at an unbelievable speed. If she waited any longer, this rebellious son who challenged her authority would slip beyond her control.

Deep down, Lamorein didn’t want to stand against Garoth.

But some things were no longer within his power.

With every passing day, the calling in his soul grew heavier. The desire to fight for the Dragon Queen’s glory burned in his veins, becoming harder and harder to suppress.

At the very latest, before Garoth attained the Mandate of Heaven, a battle between them was inevitable.

He could already hear the turning of the gears of fate—heavy, unstoppable.

Meanwhile.

In the Raging Tides Dragon Domain, at the Sarlo Abyssal Trench.

The Bronze Dragon King, Sheffield, opened his eyelids in the dark depths, revealing a pair of pale cyan eyes. He stared at a deep rift not far away.

It stubbornly persisted there.

But compared to before, the rift had shrunk by a fifth. Both ends were narrowing, the edges pulling together.

Sheffield stared at the rift, his gaze unmoving for a long time.

He recalled what the Dragon Queen had told him long ago. He hadn’t believed her then—after all, promises from the Chromatic Queen always came with hooks.

But it turned out she hadn’t lied, at least on this one point.

The rift was healing. That was undeniable.

*When it fully closes, I will be free. I will fight for justice.*

*There are too many evils in this world. Too many sins parade openly under the light of day. After shedding the burden of guarding the abyssal trench, I can find them one by one. Cleanse them. Purify them.*

The Bronze Dragon King stretched his wings.

His massive wings stirred gently in the water, stirring up currents that dislodged a thin layer of sediment settled on the membranes. The dust swirled in the water a few times before silently sinking.

At the same time, he closed his eyes, quietly lying in wait.

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