Chapter 781: Prepare to Die
Just as everyone was struck by shock and confusion, the figure shrouded in black smoke began to change—the dark fumes coalesced, writhing like living things as they slowly peeled away the mask covering the person's face.
Beneath the mask was revealed a twisted, menacing Ashen Orc face.
"Black Dragon Warlord, it’s actually you!"
Guridan was stunned and furious; he had never expected this person to be the Black Dragon Warlord.
The Black Dragon Warlord’s face twisted with malice and coldness, his eyes wild with madness as he screamed hoarsely at the top of his lungs.
"Guridan, I’ve found the gate foretold in the prophecy! I am the tribe’s greatest contributor—I’m the one who deserves to be chieftain! And now, my power is far beyond anything you can imagine, so strong even I can’t fully describe it! Anyone who stands in my way will die. Guridan, your time is up!"
The Black Dragon Warlord’s frenzied roar signaled his complete loss of control. Black smoke billowed wildly around him, gathering until it formed hundreds of enormous black spheres, each over ten meters wide.
Each smoky sphere collapsed inward, the black fumes slowly dissipating, revealing hundreds of massive magma meteors suspended in midair. The terrifying magical energy warped the very space around them.
Rivers of molten rock streamed across the meteors’ surfaces, and in an instant, hundreds of meteors transformed into a deadly meteor shower, hurtling toward Guridan with a deafening roar.
A torrent of molten rock and shattered stone rained down from the heavens, cascading like a waterfall of magma. The fields of Dark Elf trees below were swept away—hundreds of trunks reduced to ash in an instant. Within a span of a thousand meters, every tree ignited, transforming the land into a raging sea of fire.
Above, the battle raged on. The Black Dragon Warlord, his assault repelled, released a torrent of black smoke that rapidly twisted into countless shields, each surfaced with fine, serpentine scales, encircling him.
Each shield stretched seven or eight meters across, its surface crawling with obsidian scales like a serpent’s hide. Around their edges, a grisly ring of blood-stained bone spikes jutted outward.
Hundreds of shields fused into a colossal sphere, spinning furiously around the Black Dragon Warlord.
Guridan, a streak of crimson lightning, charged the shield sphere, sword in hand. His form blurred—a red bolt darting around the shields, sparks erupting wherever his blade struck.
Shields shattered at breakneck speed, yet more black-scaled barriers materialized to replace them, holding firm against Guridan’s relentless assault. He struck a thousand times in mere seconds, but failed to break through, his figure suddenly appearing suspended in midair.
Guridan gripped his sword with both hands, flipped in the air, and brought the massive blade crashing down on the Black Dragon Warlord’s shields.
In a flash, a terrifying force erupted like a caged dragon—between Guridan’s hands, a gigantic crimson sphere, forty or fifty meters across, blazed into existence. The blinding orb pulsed violently, threatening to explode at any moment. The sheer power sent cold sweat running down Leon’s back, even from afar.
If unleashed, this force would be utterly devastating—even a mountain a kilometer high would be split in two.
But Guridan’s raging power remained under his control. As he swung his sword in a mighty arc, the front of the crimson sphere burst open, energy surging forth like a flood. In that instant, it was as if Guridan wielded a hundred-meter-long scarlet blade, cleaving downward.
Guridan’s torrent of crimson energy crashed into the countless black-scaled shields, obliterating them in a blink. In the sky, only a thousand-meter-long scarlet flood remained, sweeping everything in its path.
Every black-scaled shield was shattered, not even given a chance to reform as black smoke—they were annihilated by Guridan’s energy flood.
The surging crimson energy, like a sky-piercing sword, didn’t stop. It tore across thousands of meters, smashing into the trunk of a distant Wisdom Tree. The massive branch, hundreds of meters thick and covered in dense forest, was instantly reduced to ash. A chunk of land over a kilometer wide vanished, and the severed branch, charged with enormous force, plummeted toward the ground.
From afar, Leon’s eyes were filled with awe. This was transcendent power!
Such terrifying control—he wielded wild, uncontrollable force with pinpoint accuracy.
Every ounce of energy landed squarely on the Black Dragon Warlord’s defenses, not a bit wasted. Even with such overwhelming force, the ground below was left untouched.
Still, could the Black Dragon Warlord really be finished so easily?
Sure enough, after Guridan’s strike, he didn’t smile—his expression only grew heavier. He swung his sword, stabbing into the void, and a surge of crimson energy instantly took the shape of a monstrous beast: seven or eight meters tall, but its arms stretched a hundred meters long and dozens wide.
The beast’s massive arms clawed at a point in the air, unleashing violent spatial ripples. Its hands seemed to pierce the void itself, then, with a furious roar, the beast tore at the fabric of space.
In an instant, the void was ripped open, and pitch-black smoke gushed forth from thin air. The smoke churned and collapsed inward, revealing the Black Dragon Warlord at its center, clutching a swirling black sphere several meters across.
That sphere was like a void, swallowing up the surrounding black smoke. In seconds, it condensed into a ball of black oil, its power surging—space rippled violently, visible waves spreading outward. Where those gentle-looking ripples touched the ground, everything disintegrated into dust, soundlessly…
"Guridan, prepare to die!"
With a crazed roar, the Black Dragon Warlord hurled the black sphere with all his might, his face twisted with exertion.
The sphere, originally just a dozen meters wide, expanded at a terrifying speed as it flew, swelling rapidly.
In an instant, the black sphere ballooned to over a hundred meters across, its violent, evil energy radiating outward. The air exploded from the pressure, space itself crumpling like a sheet of paper.
The sphere rolled forward, bearing down on Guridan. Explosions rang through the air—even hundreds of meters above, buildings and trees on the ground were shattered by its passing force.
A few hundred-meter-tall War Ancient Oaks stood directly beneath the sphere. The power that swept out from it instantly reduced their mighty trunks—unbreakable by Ashen Orc warriors after hours of chopping—to drifting fragments, as if centuries of decay had occurred in a heartbeat.
Fragments drifted through the air, the battlefield transformed into a wasteland of ash and ruin.
In an instant, the void was ripped open, and pitch-black smoke gushed forth from thin air. The smoke churned and collapsed inward, revealing the Black Dragon Warlord at its center, clutching a swirling black sphere several meters across.
That sphere was like a void, swallowing up the surrounding black smoke. In seconds, it condensed into a ball of black oil, its power surging—space rippled violently, visible waves spreading outward. Where those gentle-looking ripples touched the ground, everything disintegrated into dust, soundlessly…
"Guridan, prepare to die!"
With a crazed roar, the Black Dragon Warlord hurled the black sphere with all his might, his face twisted with exertion.
The sphere, originally just a dozen meters wide, expanded at a terrifying speed as it flew, swelling rapidly.
In an instant, the black sphere ballooned to over a hundred meters across, its violent, evil energy radiating outward. The air exploded from the pressure, space itself crumpling like a sheet of paper.
The sphere rolled forward, bearing down on Guridan. Explosions rang through the air—even hundreds of meters above, buildings and trees on the ground were shattered by its passing force.
A few hundred-meter-tall War Ancient Oaks stood directly beneath the sphere. The power that swept out from it instantly reduced their mighty trunks—unbreakable by Ashen Orc warriors after hours of chopping—to drifting fragments, as if centuries of decay had occurred in a heartbeat. Fragments drifted through the air, the battlefield transformed into a wasteland of ash and ruin.