Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

The western sky was burning.

Garoth's gaze pierced through the night and the layered curtains of thunderclouds, catching sight of massive silhouettes locked in battle within the storm's center.

The spikes on his back spread slightly open.

The light emanating from between his scale armor was even brighter than before.

At this moment, the Mandate of Halden, the human Marcus, tactfully stopped the topic of siphoning roots.

He could sense the aura of Mandate dragons locked in combat.

Though he couldn't see exactly what was happening, for an existence at his level, perception arrived faster than vision.

"It seems there's something more urgent than the Empire's commission."

Marcus gazed toward the west and said, "Battles between Mandate great dragons are a rare sight."

He turned to Garoth.

"Your Majesty Ignas, you should go join in. While the Bronze Dragon King has the Lord of Thunder locked down, strike from both sides and eliminate the Storm Dragon—this is a rare opportunity."

In the eyes of Halden's Mandate, the Storm Dragon was a potential enemy.

That was only natural.

If the Halden Empire weren't entangled by the Abyss's troubles, a tyrant like the Lord of Thunder—who believed in an evil god, built temples, and collected blood taxes—would have been immediately targeted for elimination.

As for the Bronze Dragon King, in the eyes of an order-aligned empire, he was a potential ally worth cooperating with.

Garoth withdrew his gaze from the west and fixed it on Marcus.

He tilted his head slightly and asked, "You think the Bronze Dragon King and I can stand on the same side?"

Marcus was taken aback for a moment, then said, "Can't you? Your Majesty and the Bronze Dragon King are both order-aligned dragons, and you have deep connections with the Metal Dragons. The Storm Dragon who believes in an evil god is your common enemy. There should be no doubt about that."

Garoth shook his head.

"Don't take things for granted."

He said coldly, "The matters between us dragons aren't as simple as they appear on the surface. Someone like you couldn't possibly understand."

Marcus opened his mouth, then closed it again.

The Halden Empire had no shortage of experience dealing with great dragons, but their understanding of dragonkind certainly couldn't match that of actual dragons.

He nodded slightly, accepting the explanation.

Just then, a streak of light shot up from the capital city below, landing on the high platform in the blink of an eye.

As the light faded, Reinhardt materialized. The human Mandate was fully armed, wearing light armor over his dark fitted clothing. Two great swords hovered slightly behind him, clearly also sensing the changes in the west.

"Your Majesty."

Reinhardt looked at Garoth without saying much.

His gaze quickly swept over Marcus, then turned to the western sky.

The frequency of lightning flashes was slower than before. Deep collisions echoed from within the clouds, wave after wave.

Garoth looked at his human follower, then slowly straightened his body. His dragon wings spread, their membranes casting enormous shadows in the moonlight, enveloping the entire platform.

"Follow me."

As the words fell, the red iron dragon leaped from the platform. His wings slammed together, and his dark silhouette tore through the night sky.

Reinhardt didn't hesitate.

His body sank, then transformed into a sword-light streak following close behind, like a meteor's tail chasing the dragon's figure, leaving a straight trail of light across the sky.

Halden's Mandate stood still for a moment.

He thought it over, weighing the pros and cons of staying in Aola's capital versus following to observe the battle.

This fight involved multiple Mandate great dragons—the power dynamics and factional relationships were crucial intelligence for the Empire. In the end, these considerations outweighed his other concerns.

He also flew out, following behind the dragon and Reinhardt.

Three figures tore through the night, racing toward the most intense direction of the battlefield.

The West.

Above Breckton.

The sky was no longer a sky.

Thunderclouds had been torn to shreds, only to reform in the gaps between the fragments.

Rainstorms were vaporized into white mist by dragon breath, and the mist was torn apart by shockwaves, over and over again. Forests on the ground burned, were extinguished by the downpour, then reignited by stray lightning strikes, in an endless cycle.

At the center of the battlefield.

The Bronze Dragon King, Sheffield, bore many scorched marks scattered across his shoulders, flanks, and dragon wings. But all traces remained only on the scales, never truly penetrating to the flesh beneath.

To the Bronze Dragon King, these were merely superficial wounds.

His opponent's injuries were far more severe.

The battle had only just begun, yet several claw marks had already been carved deep into Lamorein's back, reaching down to the bone.

Dragon scales had shattered and turned up, exposing the charred muscle tissue underneath. Electric light continuously leaked from the wounds, as if what flowed through his veins wasn't blood but lightning plasma.

Lamorein panted heavily, his chest heaving violently.

But he wasn't about to concede.

"Is this all your justice amounts to?"

The Storm Dragon roared, and the lightning between his fangs suddenly erupted.

A pillar of lightning shot from his mouth—not the usual blue-white, but a blazing arc approaching purple. Wherever it passed, the air was directly ionized into plasma, leaving behind a scorching trail that lingered for a long time.

The Bronze Dragon King's expression remained unchanged.

He folded his wings, rotating his massive body half a turn in midair.

Holy vow runes lit up on his tail, covered in bronze-colored scales. Every stroke radiated a metallic, hard brilliance, especially striking against the backdrop of lightning.

He swept his tail directly forward.

Boom!

The dragon tail collided head-on with the lightning pillar.

The luster on the scale surface blazed dazzlingly bright in that instant. The lightning pillar was split cleanly down the middle, the forked arcs scattering to both sides without a single one touching the Bronze Dragon King.

In the gap created by this tail strike breaking through the lightning pillar.

The Bronze Dragon King's wings spread wide, his speed surging as he passed straight through the scattered lightning filling the sky and crashed into the Lord of Thunder's embrace.

The dull thud of two massive bodies colliding drowned out the thunder itself.

It was like two mountains slamming into each other.

The Bronze Dragon King's right front claw seized the Storm Dragon's left shoulder, the tips piercing into the gaps between scales.

He pulled downward.

Rip!

A vicious wound extended from the shoulder blade to the ribcage.

A whole section of scale was torn away, the muscle tissue underneath rolling outward. Before the surging blood could flow far, it was burned into a black crust by the lightning, forming a layer of charred matter at the edges of the wound.

Lamorein's roar carried pain now.

His dragon tail whipped around from the side, wrapped in layer upon layer of lightning, slamming into the Bronze Dragon King's flank with a sound like forged iron striking an anvil.

The Bronze Dragon King only grunted.

His scales dented inward and cracked, but didn't tear open. A dull ache spread from his ribs, as if struck by a hammer—but nothing more than that.

Both were at the Mandate level.

But clearly, the Bronze Dragon King's physical constitution was far superior to the Storm Dragon's.

Unless something unexpected happened, the Storm Dragon's defeat was only a matter of time.

But he seemed unaware of this.

He roared and howled, immersed in the fierce battle with the Bronze Dragon King. Every counterattack was savage and ferocious.

Rip!

The Bronze Dragon King's left claw swept across the Storm Dragon's faceplate.

The Storm Dragon dodged quickly, his head jerking backward so fast that the friction of scales on his neck produced a scraping sound. But a horizontal slash wound still appeared under his eye socket.

The battlefield below was equally brutal.

The legendary dragons of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain held the upper hand in both numbers and quality.

Their coordination was seamless, advancing and retreating in perfect order. The Helmod Dragonflight's formation had been disrupted, with each dragon fighting on its own, one after another losing combat effectiveness.

But the Lord of Thunder didn't look down to check the situation below.

He had no time for that.

The Bronze Dragon King endured the torrential thunderstorm he had summoned, pressing forward step by step, not giving him any chance to disengage.

"Evil can never overcome justice."

The Bronze Dragon King's voice squeezed out from between his teeth.

Rip!

His left claw blazed with light, piercing through the lightning armor covering the Storm Dragon's body, leaving another deep claw mark across his chest.

His wings beat once.

The Dragon King chased after the Storm Dragon, who had been knocked backward.

His right claw rose, aiming for the Lord of Thunder's head, ready to deliver an even heavier strike.

Just then.

A pillar of light descended from the heavens.

It broke through the dark clouds and lightning, landing straight in the center of the battlefield. Within it, teleportation runes were densely packed like a swarm of ants, layer upon layer.

An ice blade swept across the sky.

It was a massive blade the length of a dragon's body, completely transparent, with an eerie blue cold light flowing inside. It swept toward the Bronze Dragon King's neck, so fast that only a white streak could be seen. The frigid wind it brought turned all surrounding raindrops into horizontal ice needles.

The Bronze Dragon King suddenly turned.

He abandoned his originally locked-on attack against the Storm Dragon. His right claw swept sideways, the sharp tips colliding head-on with the ice blade. The sound was piercing and harsh, like shattered glass amplified a thousandfold. The ice blade shattered into countless fragments.

A deep gash appeared on the Bronze Dragon King's claws.

Blood flowed down.

A thin layer of frost covered the edges of the wound. The holy vow's light flickered uncertainly where the frost touched, as if being suppressed.

He narrowed his eyes and turned his head to look.

The teleportation light had already dissipated.

A white dragon stretched out its body, hovering in the air.

She was a full size smaller than the two Mandate great dragons present, but her demeanor was the calmest of the three.

Her scales were pure as freshly fallen snow, covered with countless shimmering magical runes.

Moreover, none of the runes merely floated on the surface. They had merged with the dragon's flesh and blood. With every breath, the runes flickered in rhythm with the rise and fall of her scales.

An ancient white dragon.

The Wanfa Dragon, the White Scourge, Hitherfell.

Her dragon wings were spread halfway in a lazy posture, as if she had just woken up and hadn't fully stretched yet. The wing membranes were also densely covered in magical runes, and every beat left behind fleeting afterimages of runes in the air.

Her tail swayed with a casual rhythm, showing no tension.

Her gaze swept from the Bronze Dragon King to the Lord of Thunder, then back from the Lord of Thunder to the Bronze Dragon King, revealing neither joy nor anger.

Then, the corners of her mouth curled slightly upward as she smiled at the Bronze Dragon King.

"Sheffield, long time no see. Your justice is still just as spirited as ever."

On the white dragon's body, hundreds of runes flashed simultaneously, outlining a complex magical array.

In an instant.

The luster on the Bronze Dragon King's body dimmed momentarily. The holy vow defenses on his scales seemed to have a piece erased by an invisible hand, revealing the metallic body underneath.

The defense had been dispelled.

Boom!

The Storm Dragon's wild lightning crashed down from the heavens at that exact moment.

Lamorein seized this opportunity. The lightning pillar struck the Bronze Dragon King's back.

A dragon body that could normally withstand divine thunder with only scorched scales couldn't hold this time.

Dragon scales instantly exploded, flesh charred and turned black.

The Bronze Dragon King's wings spread wide, his speed surging as he passed straight through the sky full of scattered lightning and crashed into the Lord of Thunder's embrace.

A gaping wound was torn open on his back, visible to the naked eye. Blood at the edges sizzled and evaporated in the residual heat of the lightning.

The wound was so deep that bone was visible, and the surrounding muscle tissue was largely carbonized.

The Bronze Dragon King paid no attention to his wound.

His gaze locked onto the white dragon, his voice low: "White Scourge... you've always been aloof and proud, never cooperating with any dragon. I never expected to see you standing on the side of a Storm Dragon today. This isn't like you. Your appearance here surprises me."

The white dragon's eyelids drooped slightly, carrying a lazy arrogance.

"Sheffield."

"You've got one thing wrong. I have no interest in cooperating with the Chromatic Queen's Apostle. I'm here simply because I don't like the look of you. It has nothing to do with the Storm Dragon."

"Don't try to tie my appearance to your logic."

The Bronze Dragon King was silent for a moment, then raised his head slightly.

The situation was somewhat disadvantageous.

But he wasn't planning to retreat directly.

The white dragon had made a move, but given her nature, there was absolutely no way she would truly fight him to the death.

This creature was most likely just here to stir up trouble, cause him some inconvenience while his guard was down, and then back off.

Facing two opponents, he still had a chance.

If he unleashed his full power, and given that the white dragon wasn't willing to go all out, there was still a possibility of killing the Storm Dragon.

He raised his head slightly, took a deep breath.

The holy vow radiance on his scales began to blaze, as blinding as raging flames.

Light surged from the gaps between all his scales, forming scorching halos around his body that evaporated the surrounding raindrops into white steam. His figure became somewhat blurry within the halos, but the sense of pressure only intensified.

His aura began to skyrocket.

The path of the Saint-Dragon.

The more resolute and pure the oath and conviction, the more uncompromising the sacrifice required, the more unshakable the power obtained in exchange.

At this moment, the Bronze Dragon King's aura had already approached the threshold of the peak Mandate level, blurring the line to the realm above.

Then, another aura arrived.

Every dragon on the battlefield, whether from the Raging Tides Dragon Domain or Helmod, sensed it at the same instant.

They briefly broke away from the slaughter, raising their heads to look at the night sky.

A dark-black dragon appeared in their field of vision.

His scales gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the alternating light of lightning and fire.

Crimson textures flowed like lava between the scales, like a comet of black and red streaking across the sky. His wingspan was wider than any dragon present. Every beat created air currents and vortices, rolling up raindrops and ash at the edges, leaving a long trail across the sky.

The Scarlet Emperor Cangxing, the Godslayer, the End of All Things...

The Red Emperor, Garoth Ignas!

And not just him.

Two streaks of light followed closely behind him.

One was a human, sharp and solid, cutting a thin line through the air itself, producing a faint tearing sound. The other was also human, with a calm, restrained aura.

The Bronze Dragon King watched the approaching figures, his eyes flickering.

He recognized Garoth.

The Red Calamity—on the surface, only crown-level, but in reality, fully equivalent to a Mandate great dragon.

The Bronze Dragon King's brow scales furrowed slightly.

He realized he might have been wrong about something.

It was true that contradictions existed between these evil dragons.

The White Scourge and the Storm Dragon were absolutely not allies, and the Red Emperor had deep connections with neither. His rise had been too short. But facing his, a Metal Dragon's, attack, they shared a common hatred and temporarily stood on the same side.

One against three.

If it were one against two, he might still have a chance to achieve his goal.

He was confident that while the white dragon was just going through the motions, he could endure injuries to kill the Storm Dragon. Hitherfell would at most cause him some trouble, but she wouldn't truly risk her own life.

But now...

He knew he was stronger than any individual Mandate present, even stronger than any two of them combined.

But he wasn't arrogant enough to think he could face all three at once. These evil dragons each had their own unique skills, and their fighting spirit was no small thing.

"Warriors of the Raging Tides Dragon Domain, retreat!"

He ordered in a deep voice, his words carrying across the battlefield.

The Metal Dragons abandoned their opponents simultaneously and retreated toward the direction of the vast ocean.

They covered each other's retreat—the most severely wounded went first, while those with lighter injuries held the rear. The entire process was clean and efficient, without any dragging.

The Helmod dragons did not pursue.

They looked to the Lord of Thunder, waiting for his command. A few dragons had already chased out tens of meters before stopping their wings and hovering in the air, waiting for instructions.

At this moment, a brief stretch of silence fell over the battlefield.

Only the wind and rain passed between the four Mandate great dragons, stirring up fine ice shards and electric sparks.

Sheffield did not retreat.

He faced the group of enemies alone, covering his dragonflight's withdrawal.

"Evil dragons."

"Come."

The Bronze Dragon King said, his voice cold and hard as iron.

Garoth, Lamorein, Hitherfell.

The three exchanged glances with each other, then, with unspoken understanding, their gazes simultaneously locked onto the same target.

No words were needed. In a brief moment of silent accord, the three evil dragons made the same choice.

Bullying with numbers was, after all, the virtue of evil dragons.

The Storm Dragon threw his head back and roared.

Countless silver serpents surged from the dense dark clouds, gathering together, slithering down from the cloud layers to become divine thunder that would destroy all things, crashing down upon the Bronze Dragon King.

The runes on Hitherfell's body lit up a full circle.

Fire, frost, corrosion, disintegration... all manner of magic pressed forward like a wall constructed of magic itself.

No chanting, not even an interval between spells. Every single spell was terrifyingly powerful, locked onto the Bronze Dragon King. The torrent of spells left colorful trails across the air.

The red iron dragon fully spread both wings.

Beneath his wings, one dragonqi bomb after another took shape.

They varied in size, each radiating a blazing golden light like miniature suns.

The dragonqi bombs shot forward in rapid succession, flying toward the Bronze Dragon King from different angles and trajectories. Some went straight, others arced around, sealing off every possible escape route.

Divine thunder, magical onslaught, dragonqi bombs.

They all surged forth simultaneously, unavoidable, completely engulfing the Bronze Dragon King's massive body.

For an instant, the air seemed to be sucked out, then the backflow of airflow formed a visible white shockwave ring, expanding outward in all directions.

The center of the energy convergence became a life-forbidden zone.

The different attacks mixed together chaotically. The temperature within the area rose from scorching hot to steel-melting levels, then suddenly plummeted below freezing. The rapid alternation of hot and cold created a visual effect like cracks in the air itself.

Chaotic, dangerous, lethal.

Even Garoth wasn't confident he could survive such an onslaught.

After a while.

The violent attack subsided.

Lamorein panted heavily, the lightning between his fangs flickering uncertainly; Hitherfell tilted her head, most of the runes on her body extinguished; Garoth narrowed his eyes, the golden aura on his body wavering slightly.

The chaotic energy cloud began to dissipate.

The spreading smoke, electric light, and residual magical energy slowly drew back like a curtain being pulled open.

Whoosh!

A figure tore through the dying embers, shooting straight into the sky.

The Bronze Dragon King.

Every single scale on his body blazed with brilliant holy vow radiance. Countless oath-formed characters flowed across them, layered and interwoven, emanating an unbreakable quality.

His insistence on justice, his never-compromising stance toward evil, his promise to protect the weak.

Every vow was a line of defense, layer upon layer, forming an absolute barrier.

Beneath the holy vows, his dragon body remained completely unharmed.

As if the world-shattering attack from before had only been a gentle breeze, all completely neutralized.

The Bronze Dragon King stood upright beneath the dark clouds.

He looked down upon the three evil dragons from on high, his gaze as calm as still water. Then, he raised his dragon claw, blocking the exploding dragon breath rushing toward him.

The next second.

The dragon breath blast erupting from Garoth's mouth arrived.

But when it hit the bronze claw, it was like a torrent crashing against a reef, splitting apart in front of him, completely unable to touch the Bronze Dragon King's body.

Even the scattered residual energy was blocked outside, forming a spherical safe zone around him.

The area around the Bronze Dragon King had become like a vacuum.

No attack could reach him.

Seeing his breath attack was useless, Garoth closed his jaws, glaring coldly at the Bronze Dragon King, his pupils slightly contracting.

Sheffield released his claw, the shattered remnants of dragon breath falling from between his fingers and dispersing in the wind.

Then he raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the three evil dragons.

"Red Calamity, White Scourge, Storm Evil Dragon."

He called them out one by one, saying, "Only the weak huddle together for warmth. This fragile alliance of yours will only buy you a little more time."

"I will always be watching you. Watching for when you let your guard down, become isolated, or reveal your weaknesses."

"When that time comes, I will find you."

"The ultimate destination of evil has always been death. You will await that moment in fear, and that moment will surely come."

After saying this, the Bronze Dragon King cast a deep, lingering look at the several great dragons.

His gaze lingered on Garoth for a moment longer, then shifted to the white dragon, and finally settled on the Storm Dragon.

Then, without hesitation, he turned and withdrew.

His speed was even faster than when he had arrived, disappearing into the dark clouds on the horizon in the blink of an eye.

The white dragon withdrew her gaze, looking at Garoth and the Storm Dragon.

She said slowly, "You two, aren't you going to try chasing him? Sheffield will come back. I'm carefree and don't fear him, but you both have big territories to look after—you can't just leave him unchecked."

Garoth shook his head slightly. "Even if we chased him, we couldn't kill him."

The Bronze Dragon King appeared unscathed, but they all knew he wasn't as relaxed as he looked.

His holy vows were powerful, but not infinite.

The oath's defenses required consuming accumulated conviction. Each resisted attack depleted part of the reserve. That barrage just now must have consumed a large portion of his defensive reserves. He was merely putting up a strong front.

That was also the reason he chose to retreat—not because he was truly unharmed.

But if they truly wanted a fight to the death, things wouldn't be that simple.

To kill an existence of the Bronze Dragon King's caliber, even if all three of them attacked together, they'd likely lose one in exchange. If Sheffield was truly pushed into a corner, no one could be certain what kind of power he might unleash at the last moment.

And from the white dragon's tone, she wasn't planning to go along with them.

Hitherfell came and went as she pleased, fought when she wanted, left when she wanted, without consulting anyone.

If the white dragon pulled out mid-battle, leaving him and the Storm Dragon to face a Bronze Dragon King fighting with everything on the line, the outcome would be hard to predict.

"Hmph, Sheffield is already infinitely close to the Immortal level. He could even trade a few moves with some Immortals of lower-tier races."

The white dragon flicked her tail, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"This guy, though stubborn enough to annoy anyone, has always stuck to his convictions on the path of fulfilling his vows, never cutting corners. And his talent is exceptional. His chances of breaking through to Immortal are not low. When that day comes, life will be hard for you two."

"Especially you, Lamorein, you lackey of an evil god."

The Storm Dragon's facial muscles twitched slightly.

His gaze passed over the white dragon and glanced at the red iron dragon. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end, remained silent, only letting out a low grunt from his throat. Then he turned to look in the direction the Bronze Dragon King had retreated, the electric light in his pupils flickering unsteadily.

Garoth caught his gaze and looked back, but also didn't speak, merely narrowing his eyes slightly.

The Lord of Thunder was heavily injured.

His combat effectiveness had dropped by at least thirty percent, perhaps more.

Should he take this opportunity to eliminate him?

Garoth calculated rapidly in his mind.

It was a tempting opportunity.

If he struck now, while he was weakened, the cost would be much smaller.

But the risk was equally obvious.

The Bronze Dragon King hadn't gone far, and the Storm Dragon hadn't yet displayed the power of a deity's Apostle.

If he attacked the Storm Dragon, even if he won at a very small cost in the end, he would then have to face the possibility of the Bronze Dragon King's claws returning.

Sheffield would seize that opportunity for sure.

Moreover, the white dragon's stance was unclear.

The gain wouldn't outweigh the loss.

He suppressed the thought and turned to look at the Wanfa Dragon.

"Lady Hitherfell, it's been a while. If you have time, why not come to my dragon court for a visit?"

The white dragon nodded lightly. "Very well."

"I've heard a little about your affairs in Arotala. Also, we can discuss the matter of the Bronze Dragon King. Sheffield won't let things go. There's no harm in communicating a few things in advance."

Garoth didn't invite the Storm Dragon.

He spread his wings, preparing to return to his kingdom.

At that moment, Halden's Mandate, who had been watching silently for a while, suddenly spoke.

"Your Majesty Ignas."

Marcus said, "Since the matter of the commission can't be settled for now, I should return and report. But the Empire's friendship won't change because of this. The relationship between Aola Kingdom and Halden remains stable. I'll take my leave."

Garoth nodded slightly, saying nothing.

His gaze swept over Marcus, then withdrew.

Then, Halden's Mandate looked toward the direction of the Bronze Dragon King's retreat. His figure flickered, and he too shot into the sky, disappearing into the western clouds.

The Aolan Emperor had refused the Empire's commission.

A bit regrettable.

But no matter.

Now, it seemed there was a more suitable and more powerful dragon available.