Timeless Assassin

Chapter 987: Conquest

(Planet Du Lohora, Moltherak’s POV)

After seizing Draconia and bending modern dragonkind to his authority, Moltherak moved swiftly to ensure that his return would be remembered as devastation rather than symbolism, as he prepared to carve his name back into the fabric of the universe through fire and blood.

There was no prolonged consolidation and no cautious maneuvering, as within days of taking the Draconian throne he assembled a Dragon Army beneath his command, and tore open a Fourth Dimensional portal toward the nearest major human dominion, which happened to be Du Lohora, a resource rich world governed by the Du Clan.

*FWOOSH*

*ROAR*

The portal ruptured open beneath the planet’s defensive perimeter, bypassing orbital shields that were calibrated for external assault rather than invasion from within, as dragons poured through the dimensional breach in relentless waves, their wings eclipsing the sky while molten breath washed over fortified districts before the alarm systems could complete a full cycle.

Within minutes, planetary defenses buckled.

Within half an hour, tens of millions of soldiers lay dead.

*Alarms blaring*

*Jets scrambling*

Du Clan fleets launched in fractured formations as Commanders attempted to restore order and establish resistance corridors, yet the sky filled too quickly with scales and flame, and cohesion disintegrated before strategy could solidify.

Moltherak descended upon the surface like a living catastrophe, each step splitting stone, each motion unraveling defensive grids, as entire districts collapsed beneath the weight of his aura while dragonfire rolled across military compounds and civilian sectors alike without hesitation.

Civilians ran alongside soldiers.

It made no difference.

To him, they were citizens of a dominion that had expanded while dragonkind withered, and their prosperity was indictment enough.

"The Dragon King has returned!"

Moltherak’s roar overrode emergency frequencies as Du Clan elites surged forward in desperate retaliation, only to collapse mid-cast beneath the crushing force of his divine presence, their techniques unraveling before they could manifest as their bodies were forced into the ground by power far beyond their comprehension.

"We cannot win against a God! Retreat! Retreat!"

Panic replaced discipline as fragmented transmissions scattered across the GalaxyNet, each cut short one after another as command centers fell by the dozens.

Within the first hour of the assault, Du Lohora ceased functioning as a unified society.

By the second, governance dissolved entirely.

And by the third, the planet lay subdued beneath draconic occupation as surviving infrastructure was seized and taken over by the Dragons.

"This is merely the first of many conquests...."

Moltherak stated evenly to an ongoing livestream, his voice hijacking interstellar channels as burning skylines framed him against a darkened horizon.

"For centuries, you measured your strength against ours and concluded that dragonkind had faded into irrelevance."

His gaze swept across the ruin.

"You miscalculated."

Above him, dragons circled in tightening formation, their shadows swallowing what remained of daylight.

"The Dragon Dominion expands from this moment forward."

His tone carried neither haste nor fury, only certainty, as moments later the final transmission tower buckled and fell, the live feed dissolving into static while the last remnants of planetary autonomy collapsed beneath occupation.

Across the universe, fragmented recordings of Du Lohora’s fall spread rapidly through unsecured networks and private archives, carrying a message that required no embellishment.

Moltherak had returned.

And the Draconic campaign had begun.

—-------

(Meanwhile, across the Galaxy Net)

The footage from Du Lohora spread faster than the censors could contain it, as fragments of burning skylines and collapsing fleets circulated through public forums, private group chats, and state monitored discussion boards, each clip replayed from a dozen angles as commentators attempted to explain what they themselves did not fully understand.

On one widely followed discussion stream, thousands of viewers typed simultaneously as the final image of Moltherak standing amid the ruin froze on screen.

"Who even is Moltherak? Are we supposed to know him?

Isn’t that Lord Helmuth?

Is he suffering from some sort of split personality?"

One user wrote, as others immediately echoed the confusion.

"That’s Helmuth’s body. It has to be. The mannerism feels different, but the vessel is clearly his."

Speculation spiraled quickly, theories clashing in rapid succession as psychological analysts dissected every frame, zooming into the stolen body’s movements and comparing them against archived combat recordings of the Berserker God.

"As if the Evil Cult’s resurgence wasn’t enough.

Now we have to worry about Dragons too?

And what about the Su Clan?

Weren’t they already acting suspicious during the Execution Livestream?"

Anxious threads multiplied as ordinary citizens tried to piece together a broader pattern, drawing lines between events that might or might not be connected, while the sense of stability they had taken for granted began to erode beneath accumulating uncertainty.

"A God personally conquering a planet?

Since when do Gods wage territorial wars themselves?

Aren’t they supposed to govern from above?"

That question resurfaced repeatedly, as many had grown accustomed to the idea that divine beings intervened sparingly, choosing representatives and armies to enact their will rather than descending directly onto civilian worlds.

"Where was the Du Clan God?

Why didn’t he come forward to confront this Moltherak?"

Another demanded, as replies beneath it ranged from restrained concern to outright panic.

"Do you think he was scared?"

"No God would be scared."

"Then why didn’t he show up?"

The absence spoke louder than any official statement.

Across marketplaces, residential complexes, and commuter hubs on distant Righteous worlds, the same discussions unfolded in hushed tones as people replayed the clips on personal devices, lowering their voices instinctively as though Moltherak himself might hear their uncertainty.

For centuries, the hierarchy of power had felt structured and comprehensible.

There were Gods.

There were Clans.

There were borders.

And there was the Evil Cult.

However, now, a being claiming to be an ancient Dragon King had appeared in the stolen body of a fallen God and erased a planet within hours, broadcasting his conquest openly as if daring retaliation.

"The Cult rises.

Dragons return.

Su Clan goes rogue.

What exactly is happening to the universe?"

A final comment lingered at the top of a trending feed, accumulating thousands of silent endorsements.

As beneath the surface bravado of patriotic responses and official reassurances, one sentiment quietly united the Righteous Faction’s civilians.

They no longer felt confident in the current universal order, which they could sense was coming to an end.