Chapter 820: The Tyrant Descends upon the Battlefield
"Kill——!"
"For the Empire!"
"For Sacred Fedran! Drive these damned monsters from Seleucus!"
"Back to Hell, you filthy Five-Colored Sinister Dragons!"
With a thunderous war cry, the Allied Forces launched a ferocious counterattack against the Dragon Worship Church Army. Imperial soldiers fixed bayonets and charged, while Seleucus’ Paladins and Warriors swung their longswords with brutal force. Gold, Silver, and Copper Dragons clashed mid-air with the Five-Colored Sinister Dragons in a storm of fire and fury.
Barrages of flame tore through the sky. Smoke hung thick in the air, suffocating and acrid. The stench of blood soaked the battlefield—thick, cloying, and unyielding. Limbs of humans, Dragonborn, and evil dragon descendants lay scattered like broken toys across the field.
In this high-intensity war, the Great Rift had already taken form as the Avatar of Consumption—Life Force itself. Every second, more souls plummeted into its abyss, lost to death. Piles of corpses rose like mountains in the valleys, and rivers of blood wound slowly through the scorched earth.
The vast battlefield was now a wasteland. Hills had been leveled, replaced by endless ash fields. Here, humans, half-dragons, elves, dwarves, and evil dragon descendants fought with desperate fury.
Soon, the Metal Dragons’ familiars arrived—Cloud Giants, Heavenly Horses, and Metallic Lesser Dragons—powerful, noble creatures that surged onto the battlefield, joining the fray against the evil dragon descendants.
The situation spiraled into chaos. From above, the battlefield stretched for miles—a front line over ten kilometers long—where over a million warriors, dragons, and creatures clashed in a swirling, chaotic river of war.
"FOR THE DRAGON LORD!"
The oath of the Dragon Holy Knights summoned a phantom of the Red Dragon. After shattering the Blue Dragon’s leader, it roared to the heavens and charged toward the Dragon Worship Church’s frontline—Archbishop Jude’s position.
A torrent of intense heat poured from its maw, a flood of dragonfire that swallowed hundreds of evil dragon descendants in an instant.
"Move! Stop it! Damned fools—this is just a phantom!"
Jude’s forehead bulged with veins, his voice a furious scream. His scepter flared with blinding, electric eyes.
In response, a dozen colossal Storm Lizards emerged from the smoke, their spines rising like hills. They lowered their heads, massive horns pulsing with crackling, blinding lightning. The air hummed, charged with imminent destruction.
"Scum! Your god cannot save you. In the might of Emperor Kai Xiusu, anything that dares block the Empire’s path—will be crushed!"
Misha hovered behind, her dragon wings flaring. With a single flick of her finger, she unleashed a stream of searing flame, piercing through the heads of several Storm Lizards in a flash.
"You’re no better than a Red Dragon yourself—a mere descendant of Queen Tiamat. And yet, you betray your own bloodline with such shameless treachery. You deserve to die!"
Jude roared, his Dragon-Head Scepter blazing. The vertical pupil in its tip pulsed with dark energy, a storm of electricity swirling within. Dark clouds gathered overhead as a thunderous bolt tore through the sky—aimed straight at Misha’s head.
Boom!
The lightning struck—passing through her body like a phantom. The ground beneath her cracked open, scorched black, stones exploding into the air. But Misha was already gone—only a flame mirage remained.
The real Misha now loomed above Jude, high above the battlefield, her golden vertical pupils cold and calculating. Within them, the light of imminent destruction burned.
Slowly, she raised her hand.
"By the authority of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame—"
The sky itself seemed to tear open, as if clawed by an invisible giant. A terrifying vortex of fire split the heavens—a column of crimson-gold flame descended like divine punishment.
Boom!
Jude stared up at the cataclysmic pillar, his face a mask of panic and rage. "Damn Empire filth! You’ll pay for this!"
He raised his scepter, the vertical pupil glowing with a deep, devouring darkness. A translucent, semi-transparent sphere formed above him—a divine shield, drawn from Tiamat’s power.
The flame column crashed down. The inferno roared against the shield, two titanic forces colliding in a storm of fire and light.
"Impossible… a human who stole dragon blood… how could you possess such power?"
Jude gritted his teeth, his body trembling. His arm shook violently as he strained to hold the shield. The vertical pupil flickered, emitting tendrils of black smoke.
"Pathetic! You fools—this is the Emperor’s blessing, not some cursed relic from your Hell-bound master!"
Misha laughed, her voice sharp and cruel. She clenched her fist. The flame column intensified, its heat searing the air.
Cracks began to spiderweb across the divine shield. Tiny, sharp cracks echoed through the battlefield. The shield was breaking—fast.
"Blood for blood!"
Adrian leapt high into the air, roaring like a beast. His longsword flashed with golden light as he descended in a crushing slash, striking the shield’s outer face with a thunderous crack.
Crack—
The shield shattered.
Jude’s face, slick with sweat, twisted in terror. The final moment had come.
Misha’s voice cut through the storm. "It seems your deity has abandoned you."
"No! Impossible! I am a Bishop of the Blue Dragon Sect—chosen by Queen Tiamat!"
Jude screamed, voice breaking, but the shield was gone. His life force was draining.
Then—rumbling in the distance, a frenzy of thunder.
Dark clouds surged across the sky, visible to the naked eye, rolling in like a tidal wave. Lightning danced between them—wild, frenzied, like a beast unleashed.
Electric arcs sparked across the battlefield. The air itself crackled. In every direction, lightning elemental energy surged, as if awakened by some ancient, unseen force.
Swish—
A gale swept across the land, carrying sand and dust in a howling storm. The wind carried a stench—sharp, metallic, like blood and ozone.
"Dust storm!"
The wind tore through the battlefield, throwing soldiers off their feet. Many unarmored warriors were lifted into the air, tossed like leaves, caught in the storm’s fury alongside shattered earth, broken trees, and flying debris. Even the dragons struggled to stay aloft, their wings flapping desperately to maintain flight.
At the heart of the storm, something vast and terrible stirred—hidden within the lightning, cloaked in thunder.
Misha turned her gaze to the eye of the storm, her expression grave.
“The Thunder Tyrant… Gorazdra.”
She turned back to Jude, her eyes blazing with fury.
"Enough. We end this now. Kill this vermin!"
Jude saw it too—the storm, the lightning. His face twisted into a ghastly grin. He laughed, hoarse and broken, blood trickling from his lips.
"Hah… hahahaha… fools of the Empire. Gorazdra is descending. Your doom is here!"
"Shut up!"
Misha’s eyes flared with golden-red flame. The fire column intensified, melting everything around her—sand turned to molten glass, stone to liquid. The divine shield shattered completely.
Jude was engulfed. His flesh burned to ash. In his final moments, his body collapsed into black powder, bones trembling, screaming a final curse:
"Everyone… will be struck by thunder and storm!"
Where he stood, only magma, molten glass, and charred remains remained.
Then—CRACK!
A lightning bolt struck Misha directly. She was thrown backward, her long robes scorched, her body wracked with electric arcs.
With immense effort, she flapped her dragon wings, dragging her wounded body toward the rear of the frontline. She looked out at the storm, at the thunderclouds—dark, alive, and hungry.
"Naive rebels…"
From within the storm, a voice roared—deep, thunderous, shaking the soul. It was not just sound. It was terror. The primal fear of lightning, the fear of annihilation.
"What… is that?"
"No mistake. It’s her. She’s here. The Tyrant who rules Taliro Desert."
"God…"
People froze. Breath caught. Sweat poured down faces. Their bodies trembled violently.
Dionysius landed slowly, his dragon wings folding. His golden vertical pupils reflected the blinding lightning.
"Terrifying aura… She’s stronger than ever."
The ancient Gold Dragon turned to the allied generals. His voice was heavy with sorrow.
"We came too late. That ancient Blue Dragon… it may have already become true—"
He swallowed hard.
"—a quasi-god. This is no longer a mortal battle. If necessary… we must ask His Majesty to intervene. Only the Emperor of the Ashen Flame can stand against this."
Boom!
Thunder rolled in, growing louder. A shockwave of sound tore through the land, hurling sand and debris. A few unlucky soldiers were lifted into the air and blown away.
"Pathetic mortals… lowly insects… do you know what you’ve awakened?"
CRACK!
A lightning bolt split the sky, turning the dark heavens into a blinding white.
Far away, a shadow emerged—like a moving storm cloud, racing toward them at terrifying speed.
As it drew closer, the ground trembled. The sand lifted, rolling, leaping. The air vibrated with the presence of something colossal—something ancient.
Against a backdrop of dark clouds and lightning flashes, the Colossal Entity unfurled its wings. The storm parted, revealing its true form.
A vast, ancient Blue Dragon.
Its body was mountainous, scales like polished metal, shimmering with a cold, icy blue light. Each scale was the size of a shield, tightly packed like unbreakable armor.
Its wingspan exceeded a hundred meters—two vast sails that blocked the sun. The membranes were thick and strong, each flap sending a gale howling into the sky, lifting sand into towering pillars.
The Blue Dragon’s head rose above the storm’s dome. Its eyes churned with lightning storms. Its entire body pulsed with electricity, the air crackling around it. Its bloody maw exhaled endless torrents of lightning.
But the most terrifying feature—its massive horns, spiraling from its brow, linked to a swirling vortex of thunder. At their tips, the storm expanded, devouring light.
A cruel smile curled its lips.
"Enough of this boring farce…"
It spread its wings.
Thunderbolts poured forth like a flood.
Boom!
The world shook. Thunder roared across heavens and earth. Hundreds of Seleucus soldiers at the frontline were vaporized in an instant.
Imperial Steam Tanks were torn apart by the storm, exploding into charred wreckage—powerless against the onslaught.
The Thunder Tyrant—Gorazdra, Lord of the Desert, Storm Sovereign, and Dragon God of the Dragon Worship Church—had descended upon the battlefield.
"Unbelievable… one strike took out a Steam Tank!"
"Stop her! Now!"
"Full fire! Kill that Ancient Blue Dragon! This boss belongs to us, the Mechanical Divinity!"
Players erupted with excitement, unleashing every attack they had.
Dozens of elemental beams, hundreds of missile strikes capable of flattening mountains, tens of thousands of bullets—all fired at the dragon. The firepower alone could have destroyed a small city.
But Gorazdra only flapped her wings slowly, her vertical pupils flickering with cruel amusement. She looked down upon the battlefield as if observing insects.
At a hundred meters, the missiles, shells, and bullets froze mid-air—suspended, glowing with electric arcs.
Then—they fell.
Like rain.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions erupted in every direction. Friendly fire raked the allied forces. The attacks did nothing—only fed the dragon’s power.
The elemental heavy cannons’ beams were swallowed whole by the storm of lightning. Their energy consumed, absorbed, and added to the dragon’s aura.
The Mechanical Divinity players grew tense.
"Semi-god level energy wave—elemental cannons are useless."
"Activate maximum defense. That Blue Dragon’s next target is likely us!"
Aerospace warships deployed thick magical barriers. Auras flared in every color, steam billowing from their hulls.
Charlotte smirked—schadenfreude in her eyes—but warned, "Be careful. We’ve faced this boss in the Taliro Desert. Her lightning breath has divine destructive power. It pierces all magic defenses. Our magic ships were obliterated by her."
Gorazdra watched the warships, their shields glowing. Her vertical pupils narrowed with mockery.
"Pathetic toys."
She raised a massive claw. Thunder gathered in her palm—crackling, building, shaping into a spear of lightning—like Zeus’s divine thunderbolt.
"Let you mortals witness…"
Her eyes flared.
"What true strength truly is!"
With a roar, the lightning spear lashed down. It split into thousands of jagged, interwoven bolts, tearing through the sky.
Boom—
The thunder roared. Lightning split the air. Engines exploded. Winds screamed.
One by one, the warships spiraled downward, trailing thick smoke, burning fiercely. They crashed into the ground, detonating in mushroom clouds of fire and debris.
In a single, devastating strike—the Mechanical Divinity’s entire fleet was annihilated. No survivors.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
