Unholy Player

Chapter 418: Quantity Over Quality

The roar tore the sky open and shook the ground, stripping the Practitioners of whatever hope or will they still held.

After consuming the blood, it not only regenerated its melted body but also hardened it to a dark, glassy sheen, and the fires that had once been hot enough to melt it now only fluttered against its hide, thin and less effective.

Zephan, understanding there was little choice left, turned to the two Lunari Practitioners and spoke in a heavy, resolute voice.

"Go and find my daughter. Return to the kingdom and take others to the Midlands."

He made his decision: while this dragon was still alive, there was no place they could live in the Outer Region.

"Your will is ours to carry out, my Lord... But..." The two Practitioners bowed, shoulders folding with respect while a private fear clenched behind their ribs. Their voices were firm, yet the unspoken question tightened their throats.

Zephan answered their question by summoning another silver sword into his hand; now holding twin blades burning with steady silver fires, he stepped forward toward the Blood Dragon.

He laughed and said, "There is a fight in front of me; how can I turn my back and leave it?"

He looked and sounded as if he were enjoying it, but the deeper meaning beneath it was clear; he was choosing to stay and distract the Rank 4 Spark until his family and people could escape somewhere from its reach.

The two Lunari Elders looked at their leader for a full second, and then their waists bowed even lower, gratitude and reverence shaping both stance and words. "May our lord be granted the battle he desires.’’

The greatest wish of a Lunari was to die on the battlefield, surrounded by honor and blood. So the only way they could show their gratitude was through prayers, hoping their lord would find glory in his final moments.

Then their bodies vanished to carry out the last order they had received from their ruler.

Meanwhile, the Gorathim Practitioners already seemed gone; apparently, they had received their orders from Throgar through mind communication and moved ahead.

Zephan met the ogre’s eyes for a breath, noted his straight-backed stance, and then gave a single nod; nothing more needed saying.

But when he turned and looked at Liora’s massive ape form, he had words to tell her. "Earthshaker, you are the only pillar of your race. If you decide to leave, we won’t hate you."

While Lunari and Gorathim still had their Rank 4 Elders, Velari had only Liora as their strength.

If they tried to escape to the Midlands without her representing them, no door would be opened for them beyond Pacthold.

It was a rule written by the organizations managing Pacthold, as the races living in the Outer Region were usually looked down on, and Rank 3 and lower ones were seen as refugees, so they wouldn’t be given permission to pass the gates.

Liora fell silent for a breath, the choice settling heavily on her chest, as it was a hard decision to make.

But at last she chose her kingdom as a priority and said, "I’m sorry." Her voice was a deep, genuine apology; leaving the two here alone, while knowing this war would likely end only with the two of their deaths, was breaking her heart.

"I will make sure to take care of your people as well." The only thing she could do was give this promise to the two titled Practitioners.

That was their wish anyway. Handing their people to another Titled Practitioner, especially a dependable figure like Liora, meant they could face death with no lingering worry.

Liora gave the Blood Dragon one last look as it slowly rose from the crater’s flames, its massive bulk climbing through the wavering heat with a graceful yet menacing lift; then she turned to leave.

But before she left, a small whistle-like sound reached her ear, making her turn her head and look at the sky.

All she saw was a metallic tube cutting the dark air at high speed, and then, as if it had a mind of its own, the tube suddenly shifted course in midair, dipped its nose, and locked onto a precise target.

"What is that?" Zephan and Throgar also saw the incoming object and asked the same.

But before they could make sense of it, it had already descended at high speed and struck the Blood Dragon’s back with a thunderous crack.

For a heartbeat, nothing changed. A hot ripple ran outward and lifted the dust, and the three Titled Practitioners were left momentarily unsure.

But in the next second, the world turned white.

A flash brighter than lightning swallowed the crater, bleaching shadow, color, and sound.

The first breath of heat struck like an open furnace; stone took on a glassy sheen, and the air itself seemed to burn.

A pillar of fire rose like a newborn sun, the base churning with incandescent dust while a boiling crown spread on top.

The shock wave arrived a beat later as a moving wall of pressure that rolled and folded across the ruined city, chewing the ground, toppling anything left standing, and flinging debris outward before the wind snapped back toward the rising column.

The three figures were already running, Throgar using his skills to raise layered barriers against the thermal pulse and the onrushing blast.

Inside the white glare, the Blood Dragon’s silhouette writhed and roared. Its wings buckled, its spine arched, and the figure disappeared into the boiling cloud of fire.

"What was that attack just now?" Liora looked back after riding out the shockwave and could only see the dragon’s ghostly outline flickering inside the chaos.

Its power scale, when compared, was as potent as Zephan’s silver light column, but with a wider, more ruinous reach.

"I’m not sure, but I doubt it would be enough to kill it." Zephan’s voice remained unwavering even as the lingering force of the blast pressed on him, the logic in his tone intact beneath the awe.

Even he had to unleash his skill combo 3 times in a row just to hurt the Blood Dragon, and that was before the Rank 4 Spark drank blood.

Now it has more durable scales and is not so affected by heat. He thought there had to be more than 3 attacks like this to force a real shift in the tide.

"Another one looks to be coming," Throgar said, cutting through their calculations as his gaze tracked another metal tube shape spearing toward the target.

Soon, the flying object, finding the perfect angle, slammed into the Blood Dragon, the same chain of effects flaring in their sight, flames swallowing the massive form and ripping fresh roars from the creature.

"Still not enough." Zephan, seeing the dragon’s blurred shape still standing inside the heat, felt his face tighten until a third one descended and struck.

With this, the dragon now looked truly battered, its wings ragged and torn, its legs folding until its body was pressed flat against the shattered ground, but alas, that was it.

Whatever was sending these attacks had already surpassed expectations by doing it 3 times in succession.

Even Silverlight Zephan could unleash that kind of strike only 3 times, so a 4th would be a miracle or a naive wish.

What they didn’t realize was that this was only the beginning, and they would soon meet humanity’s deadliest weapons, lethal not only for their force but for their ability to be mass-produced.