Chapter 384: The Strongest Shackles, Unsealed Calamity

On the Isle of Dragons, the moment Aerielian’s silver blade cleaved the Dragon God’s body in two, and every dragon witnessed the fall of the "deity" they worshipped, a familiar voice echoed in the silver dragon’s ears.

Aerielian’s eyes, weary yet touched by a fleeting sense of relief, suddenly constricted; her pupils trembled violently, unable to contain the surge of horror.

"Ah... finally. The shackles that old fool bound me with have been severed by the very existence I chose. Tell me, isn't the power from the stars marvelous? Look at you—how much stronger you are than these common drakes."

The voice murmured, as if speaking to Aerielian, or perhaps merely to itself, and its true identity began to reveal itself through a harrowing transformation.

"I must admit, I have never seen a sentient race more suited to turning their king into an object of worship. Every dragon flows with the blood of this rotting meat—a cage that bound me, yet is inextricably linked to your own veins. No wonder the shackles of faith were so formidable."

The voice continued, indifferent to whether its words exposed any secrets, ignoring the common dragons below who stood as if waking from a dream, their faces etched with pain, and the heretical dragons who braced for battle. It celebrated its newfound freedom with self-indulgent glee.

"Crunch!"

From the massive gash carved by Aerielian’s blade, a pair of dragon claws emerged, gripping the edges of the wound and pulling with such force that the once-static rift tore wide open.

"Squelch!"

Like a creature shedding a discarded skin, a blood-red "dragon," seemingly composed entirely of gore, crawled out from the corpse of Wendel Mix, the King of Dragons. It tossed the shell—a vessel of unparalleled power in this world—aside like refuse, letting it plummet to the earth to lie in a wretched, mangled heap.

Indeed, to others, it was a vessel of terrifying strength; to this entity, it had been nothing more than a prison for centuries.

"Ah, this feels divine. Being trapped with that damned old man for so many years, fighting for control of the body every waking moment—I couldn't even think clearly."

"These are things my unfortunate kin have yet to grow into, and these chains of faith made my every action agonizingly restricted."

The crimson dragon’s form was fluid, its neck twisting in grotesque, unnatural angles as it adapted to the new body it had torn from the King.

"I..."

Aerielian stood frozen. The path she had steadfastly believed in had collapsed into a hollow lie. The power she had possessed since birth, the sense of mission that defined her—it seemed now to be nothing more than a conspiracy orchestrated by the thing before her.

"Ah, my chosen little one, are you surprised? Your King did not betray you. When I invaded his body, and he lacked the will or strength to resist my corruption, he chose to sacrifice himself without hesitation. He used the blood-link shared by all dragons to bind me in these wretched chains."

The scarlet, shapeless dragon turned to look at Aerielian, who hung in the air, caught in a storm of exhaustion, shock, fury, and confusion. It spoke with excitement, desperate for witnesses to its emergence after a century of confinement.

"You... you are a creature of the Abyss!"

Aerielian gritted her teeth. As the entity spoke, the silver dragon finally understood what this bloody "dragon" emerging from their King’s corpse truly was.

"Correct. I am what you call an Abyssal creature. Hahaha, isn't it unexpected? You personally slew the great dragon who, in order to protect you, forcibly utilized the knowledge I once learned to elevate himself into a god."

The creature made no effort to conceal its nature, laughing as it acknowledged Aerielian’s accusation, its words dripping with malice at the finality of the Dragon King’s death.

"Damn you..."

Clenching her jaw, Aerielian pieced the fragments together. The dragons had fought in the war against the Abyss. As the most powerful being in the world, the Dragon King, Wendel Mix, had been at the vanguard, crushing countless Abyssal horrors beneath his might.

But Aerielian knew the true extent of the Abyss’s power. Had the final battle at the bottom of the Abyss taken place anywhere else, the entire surface of the continent would have been razed to dust.

Four-digit legends, double-digit kingdoms, and countless deities had perished in that war. Even the mighty Dragon King had suffered grievous wounds—perhaps the only ones he had ever sustained.

The Morning Star explosion had altered the fabric of the world. While most Abyssal creatures perished, some "lingered"—Abyssal Mages, Abyssal Knights—grotesque fusions of Abyssal and native life that could adapt to this world.

That injury, she realized, must have forced the Dragon King to host an incredibly powerful Abyssal entity that sought to usurp his body.

If the entity had succeeded, it would have meant the extinction not just of the dragons he loved, but of every sentient race on the continent.

Realizing he could not resist the Abyssal power from the stars, Wendel Mix had made a desperate choice. He used the very knowledge he had gleaned from the entity during their struggle.

He learned of the power related to deities. Gods are influenced by their believers—the Lady of Night had told Wang Yu as much, and the Source of Life, Erfen, along with the God of Fear and His fragments, had confirmed it. For gods and believers, faith is a two-way chain, the strongest shackle in existence.

By forcing himself to become the object of the dragons' worship—the Great Father who protected them all—the Dragon King had bound himself. As a god, he could not harm any dragon who believed in him.

This was the shackle Wendel Mix had prepared for the Abyssal creature. His body would be its prison, and faith would be the whip that drove its power.

Even if his consciousness perished in the endless struggle, even if his body were fully usurped, the bond of faith would force the Abyssal creature to act in accordance with the dragons' beliefs, forever protecting the kin he loved.

And when the so-called "Dragon Heaven" was forged, fueled by the specific, fervent faith of the dragonkind, the cage would be sealed forever, trapping the Abyssal creature within the King’s body as a shield for the dragons.

"What a pity. He was so close to succeeding. Aerielian—that is your name, yes? Thanks to you killing him on the eve of completion, the believers witnessing the fall of their god caused the chains of faith to shatter. Now, I am truly free. Tell me, how should I thank you?"

Why the Dragon King became a god, why he sought to build a heaven for dragons—it was all clear now, yet it all felt meaningless. The heretical dragons, whose existence now carried a sinister weight—why were they so exceptionally strong, despite sharing the same blood?

Misguided, deceived—those dragons who had not worshipped the King had become the unwitting accomplices in killing the Dragon God and releasing the Abyssal horror. And one entity had played a pivotal role.

"The Dragon-Worshipping Cult—what are they!"

Aerielian demanded, her voice trembling with rage as she glared at the blood-red dragon playing with its own shell in the sky. Her fury ignited, causing her power to boil over once more.

"The Dragon-Worshipping Cult? Indeed, thanks to them, haha. They deepened the false perceptions I wanted you to have to an unbearable degree."

"But if I told you they were merely some of my shed skin that encountered a group of power-hungry, foolish sentient beings, what would you think? I didn't even expect it; they did it themselves. It had nothing to do with me."

The creature shrugged with human-like nonchalance, its tone laced with smug satisfaction. Aerielian felt a bone-chilling coldness at the revelation.

"Boom!"

A searing beam of fire erupted from the heavens, streaking toward the blood-red "dragon." It was the bronze dragon, Beoluo, who, unable to suppress his rage, was the first to strike. His attack served as a clarion call, and a torrent of dragon breath followed, converging on the crimson entity.

"Ah... do you have such a flawed understanding of your own power? Having spent hundreds of years in the same shell as your King, I know your inferior trash better than you know yourselves."

The voice was indifferent. It did not dodge, allowing the dragon breath to pour its energy into its body. Then, the entity began to glow, much like what had happened when the bronze dragon Beoluo had consumed the power of the Flame King, Caesar.

"Boom!"

Absorbing the breath and unleashing it back in a single, concentrated beam, the light moved with such speed that none could react. The massive pillar of fire swallowed Beoluo whole. When the radiance faded, not even ash remained of the bronze dragon.

"Ah, I think I shall name myself Mielos. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Do not disturb me; your shallow grasp of magic is nothing before me."

Mielos muttered to himself, suddenly reaching back with a claw. Mana surged violently—a minimal activation of a time-stop spell. The two domains collided and canceled each other out, and the blue dragon, Susumi, who had attempted to approach under the cover of the spell, found her throat gripped.

"Snap."

The terrifying force crushed her sturdy neck bones and flesh into a pulp. The dragon’s corpse plummeted from the sky.

"Ah, how weak. Your bloodlines all originate from me. You cannot even touch the limits of my power. 'Growing stronger with time'? How laughable. Relying on bloodlines? Heh, your talents, your abilities—they are all degraded versions of my own. Hahaha, does quantity matter?"

Mielos laughed maniacally, ignoring the dragons surrounding him. The calamity had broken its chains, and now, a great terror was about to descend.