Chapter 369: His Purpose? His Decree?

"Boom!"

The green dragon, vast as a mountain; the black dragon, with a hide of unimaginable resilience; the blue dragon, wreathed in blinding arcs of lightning; the red dragon, its chest a furnace of crimson flame...

The combined breath of nine great dragons converged into one—a pillar of corrosive liquid, a torrent of ghostly green fire, a rail of lightning, a searing beam of light—their pure, overwhelming power fused into a singular force of ultimate penetration, striking against the Tidal Barrier, that colossal wall spanning heaven and earth.

The water layers shattered, carving out a vast, isolated void that severed the surrounding tides, forcibly opening a passage deep into the wall. The nine dragons surged inside, holding back the closing currents and carving a tunnel ever forward with their formidable might.

"Friends, you must realize by now that the Heaven our King—our God—has forged is nearing completion. This kingdom, modeled after those of other deities, will be ruled by Him, serving as the foundation for His ascent to even greater heights."

"Our time is running out. We have lain dormant for so long for this very battle: to use our own strength to collapse the Heaven He has built and liberate our shackled kin from their eternal cage."

"We were not strong enough before, but in this long slumber, I trust you have each found your own path. I shall hold back His power; your task is to use your strength to bring His Heaven crashing down."

Leading the way, the silver dragon Aeryllian, acting as the spearhead to pierce the Tidal Barrier, spoke to the dragons she had summoned—each a unique, powerful, and anomalous specimen within their respective kin.

"Understood. In the years I spent dormant in the City of Sin, my body has fully adapted to that environment. The 'Divine Punishment' that once crippled me could no longer break my hide today. Whether He remains our King or not, I will make Him taste the bitterness of pain."

The black dragon Pompey raked his sharp, terrifying claws across his own torso, sparks flying. His frame was not massive, but grotesque—studded with blade-like barbs, heavy dragon-scale armor, and explosive musculature that even his own 'heavy plating' could not conceal.

During those years in the City of Sin, his scales had been destroyed and reborn, his muscles disintegrated and reshaped time and again. While his breath weapon had withered, his physical form had reached an unparalleled zenith; unless a seventh-tier spell employed a pinpoint strike, it was nearly impossible to harm this immortal black dragon.

"Aeryllian, I do not question your resolve, but I wish to confirm His current strength before we engage. We have prepared for this day, but He has had the same time, and the Cult of the Dragon's interference is an advantage He possesses. Whether we can truly catch up to Him remains a mystery."

The green dragon Golia voiced her concern. Known for her 'cunning,' she still clung to her old habits even on the eve of a battle that demanded pure power—always seeking a retreat, or a fork in the road.

"The reason He once chained the entire dragon race and forced them to worship Him is clear now. He was the most perfect dragon, the purest dragon; the blood flowing in His veins was the very essence of what it means to be a dragon."

"The gold upon His body, His blood, His scales, His eyes... all testify to His perfection. The Sovereign of the Skies, the pinnacle of life in this world—that is Him. He has reached the absolute limit that dragon blood can sustain."

"His power is beyond words. Save for the enemies in the final battle of the Abyss Invasion, no entity could threaten Him. Through the long ages, He shielded us with His greatness, existing as a perfect 'King'."

"But His perfection cannot carry Him higher. The limit of pure dragon blood is reached; neither flesh nor magic can advance further. Even His combat arts, honed over millennia, have hit the ceiling. Further study would only lead to regression."

"I do not know why the once-merciful King made this choice, but He did. To reach beyond the limit, He began to emulate the path of the gods, gathering the faith of all dragons to propel Himself higher."

"A Heaven belonging to dragons will be built, and He will reign within as the supreme master."

Aeryllian slowly laid out her deductions regarding their former King—the motives, the reasons, and the purpose behind His actions, all becoming clear.

"I understand. This is our final chance, and our best one. I will finalize the assault plan before we reach the Dragon Isles."

Golia seemed to grasp the truth, nodding her massive head, her eyes dim with deep contemplation.

"I do not understand. By your account, He is already far stronger than before, having embarked on a path beyond the limit. He was already immeasurably stronger than us; do we truly have a chance against Him now?"

A white dragon flying with the group voiced her doubt, finding Aeryllian’s logic and Golia’s epiphany difficult to comprehend.

"Doris, you must think more deeply. As Aeryllian said, the Heaven He is forging is incomplete. To truly break the limit, He needs a complete Heaven to propel Him. At this moment, His strength does not exceed the King of the past; in fact, He is at His most vulnerable."

Golia raised her head—larger than those of several dragons combined—to enlighten the white dragon.

"That makes sense. His power is still at the old level, but I don't understand why He would be at His weakest right now."

The white dragon remained confused after a brief thought. Golia glanced at the other dragons, noting the dawning realization in their eyes, and shook her head. This white dragon was as dull as ever, showing no improvement after all these years.

"Though He is much like a god, He is not one. Yet, He insists on distributing His power to His subjects like a true deity. The power of the Cult of the Dragon all comes from Him."

"On the eve of the completion of His Divine Kingdom, when His subjects are most numerous, His power is spread thinnest. In other words, He is currently weaker than He was at His peak."

"If He were as strong as He once was, we would have no hope. But at this critical juncture, it is the perfect time to strike. Decapitation is our primary objective."

Golia took the opportunity of the white dragon's dull question to lay out the final conclusion. The timing Aeryllian had chosen was, indeed, startlingly perfect.

"We have reached the middle of the Tidal Barrier. We will soon enter the Cult's primary reconnaissance zone. Prepare yourselves. The Arch-Bishop of the Cult will surely arrive with all the blessings bestowed by Him to intercept us, sensing that we heretics have arrived at once. This will be our first battle."

Aeryllian sensed the surroundings, ignoring the deep-sea behemoths occasionally flashing through the water, and warned the dragons with a grave tone once their position was confirmed.

"Understood."

"I am ready to tear them into ragged scraps."

"Hmm."

"Has the time for vengeance arrived so soon? How wonderful..."

"..."

They offered different responses, but every dragon had already gathered their strength, fully prepared for the opening clash.

Aeryllian’s perception drifted for a brief, fleeting moment as she sensed the four marks she had bestowed, a thought flashing through her mind.

"I did not expect Zig and the others to arrive so quickly. Speed up. Let us settle everything before they arrive."

The silver radiance let out a silent shriek, and the overlapping bright silver greatswords slashed forward, blasting a complete path through the interior of the Tidal Barrier.

...

"Who issued this decree? If no one confesses to this culpability, I will make every one of you taste the agony of despair."

In a building buried under the bones of countless drakes, the deformed half-dragon stared gloomily with his asymmetrical, everted eyes at the black-robed figures he had summoned. As the Arch-Bishop of the Cult of the Dragon, Fiel could feel the terror radiating from his subordinates.

He felt no pity for their fear. To hinder the will of the Lord was an unforgivable, monstrous sin, and those who committed such acts would be punished with infinite pain.

"Since none of you will confess, we shall go one by one."

Fiel’s brow furrowed. His followers were trembling to the point of collapse, yet none confessed. His patience had run dry.

He pressed his hand onto the head of the nearest robed figure. Amidst a sharp, piercing shriek, the man's body disintegrated and rotted away. Fiel dragged the soul out, and the power of 'Him' pierced into it, violently purging the soul now stripped of its physical shell.

"Hmph, not you. Next."

Nodding slightly, ignoring the soul that vanished into smoke from the violent search, Fiel walked toward the next figure.

"Not you, either."

"Nor you."

"..."

The cycle repeated. No one dared to resist until Fiel had reduced the last one to ash.

"How can this be? Not you either?"

Fiel muttered in confusion. The inexplicable, seemingly meaningless decree issued to the Cult had not come from any of them. Then...

"Was it You? My great Lord?!"

Struck by sudden, fearful realization, Fiel eliminated every other possibility. The decree could only have come from 'Him,' who had never truly descended to give orders before.

Casting aside all doubt, though he did not understand why 'Him' would order the Cult to intercept a fleet at an unrecorded corner of the Tidal Barrier, it was His will. And as Arch-Bishop, Fiel had to execute it without a moment's hesitation, allowing no room for failure.