Chapter 185: FIRST DEFEAT
Flameborn remained pinned under the ocean’s oppressive force, its mana-infused weight unyielding despite his struggles, his scales straining under the pressure. "I will never submit to you, bastard!" he roared, his voice defiant even as he fought to break free, his claws digging futilely into the seabed.
"Your foolishness baffles me. Your abilities may have boosted you to a four-star god at best, but that’s still far from matching my strength," Oren said calmly, his tone almost pitying. "You’ve made your choice. I’ll respect it." With that, he pivoted his arm, hurling his trident toward the pinned Flameborn with all his might, the weapon cutting through the water like a divine spear.
Flameborn wrestled desperately, trying to slip into the shadows via Umbra Gateflight, but the ocean’s crushing force held him fast, thwarting every attempt to escape. The moon above grew larger, its silhouette swallowing more of the sun to deepen the eclipse, amplifying Flameborn’s power further. Yet, as Oren predicted, his abilities peaked at a five-star god rank, still falling short of bridging the gap to Oren’s eight-star might.
"Lunar Devastation!" Flameborn yelled, his voice a desperate cry as he summoned his final gambit, hoping to counter the incoming trident.
The moon glowed with blinding intensity, accumulating energy until it unleashed a condensed beam of destructive moonlight, its radiant force slicing through the water with surgical precision, aimed directly at the trident.
[◈ Lunar Devastation
Calls down moonlight condensed into destructive beams that sear through armies with surgical precision or radiant waves that heal allies with gentle warmth, depending on the dragon’s intent, the light shifting seamlessly with its will.]
"No, you don’t," King Oren countered, summoning a tidal wave from the ocean depths, its towering crest threatening to swallow entire worlds. The wave collided with the beam, evaporating into superheated steam that clouded the battlefield, reducing visibility to near zero. The beam’s energy dissipated against the watery barrier, unable to penetrate, leaving the trident’s path unimpeded.
"I thought you ladies were going to spectate forever," Oren remarked with a mocking smile, noticing Alice’s intervention as she raised a massive wall of ice to shield Flameborn from the trident.
Boom!
The trident shattered the ice wall with ease, shards exploding outward as it continued its relentless trajectory toward the pinned dragon.
Flameborn hardened his obsidian scales to their utmost limit, bracing for impact, but the trident’s power was overwhelming. It tore through his scales, obliterating his upper body in a catastrophic explosion of shadow and blood, the water clouding with dark ichor as his form crumpled.
"Now, ladies, my offer? Still going to say no? Or are you finally willing to be my concubines? I promise I’ll take care of you all. It would be a shame to kill you too," King Oren asked, his voice dripping with smug confidence as he floated above the battlefield, his trident returning to his hand.
"Offer? Did you just ask my wives to become your concubines?" a cold, chilling voice cut through the water, its tone laced with lethal intent. Aaron Highborn emerged from a shimmering rift behind Oren, the portal closing with a soft hum, his presence radiating an oppressive aura that made the ocean itself seem to still in fear.
---
In the conference room of Stronghold 12, the air was thick with tension, the polished steel tables reflecting the dim glow of mana-powered lights. The council members sat in stunned silence, their faces pale as they processed the aftermath of Aaron’s chilling decree.
"You have one simple goal, Edmond. Conquer this planet on my behalf," Aaron instructed, his voice calm but unyielding as he addressed the young man he had bestowed with the Shadow Spawn bloodline, his eyes glinting with expectation.
"Also, kill that bastard," Aaron added, pointing a steady hand toward the councilor who had repeatedly insulted him, calling him a bastard with reckless bravado.
"Wha... what...? You can’t do that! Do you know who I am? Without me, you can’t conquer this world! You need me!" the councilor, Gregory, stammered, fear gripping his heart as he rose to his feet, stumbling backward, his eyes wide with desperation, hoping Aaron was bluffing.
"Please, sir, there’s no need to shed blood. He spoke out of line, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it. Gregory, apologize this moment!" Jarync pleaded, stepping forward to mediate, his voice urgent as he tried to defuse the situation, his weathered face etched with worry.
"Did I not make myself clear? Or should I take matters into my own hands? Know this: if I kill him myself, everyone in this room will die alongside him," Aaron said coldly, his voice a blade that silenced the room, his piercing gaze sweeping over the councilors, freezing them in place.
"Please... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—" Gregory began, his voice trembling as he raised his hands in surrender.
Edmond didn’t hesitate. With a swift motion, he unleashed his Shadow Spawn abilities, a tendril of darkness lashing out to sever Gregory’s head cleanly from his shoulders, the body collapsing in a heap as blood pooled on the floor, the council gasping in horror.
"Edmond... you...?" Jarync whispered, his voice breaking as he stared at his son, unable to comprehend the cold-blooded act, his hands trembling at his sides.
"I’m sorry, Father. I’m doing it for the sake of everyone," Edmond said quietly, his eyes downcast, the weight of his actions heavy but driven by his understanding of Aaron’s deadly seriousness.
"Good," Aaron said, nodding approvingly as he rose from his seat, his presence commanding the room. "I expect good results from you upon my return." His tone left no room for doubt, his authority absolute.
"You. Come with me," Aaron beckoned to Garganth, the tamed frostmaw troll, as he strode out of the conference room, leaving behind a stunned silence that hung like a shroud over the council.
Outside Stronghold 12, the barren plateau stretched endlessly under a gray, overcast sky, the acrid scent of scorched earth lingering in the air. Aaron placed a hand on Garganth’s massive shoulder, and with a flicker of shadow, they submerged into the troll’s silhouette, vanishing from sight in an instant.
They reemerged from another shadow far from the stronghold, the air colder and heavier with the stench of frost and decay. Before them stood a massive portal, its swirling vortex of blue and black energy pulsating with ominous power, guarded by a contingent of frostmaw trolls, their hulking forms looming like ice-crusted monoliths.
As if on a casual stroll, Aaron walked toward the portal, his steps unhurried, Garganth following obediently behind like a tamed beast, his glowing eyes dimmed in submission.
"And where do you think you’re going?" a frostmaw troll, four times Aaron’s size, growled, stepping forward to block his path. Icy mist billowed from its nostrils, its voice a low rumble that vibrated the frozen ground, its jagged teeth bared in a menacing grin.
"Get out of my face," Aaron replied expressionlessly, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes cold and unyielding.
"Don’t want to. I’m hungry. You look like a tasty snack," the troll sneered, its imposing bulk casting a shadow over Aaron, its claws flexing with anticipation.
"You all just never learn," Aaron sighed, a faint note of exasperation in his tone. With a mere thought, hellfire flames erupted around the troll, a roaring inferno of crimson and black that consumed it instantly, reducing the massive creature to a pile of smoldering cinders in seconds.
The other trolls froze, their glowing eyes wide with terror as the scent of charred flesh filled the air. None dared to challenge Aaron, their instincts screaming of the deadly power he wielded. His path to the portal was now clear, the remaining trolls parting like a sea before a storm, their courage shattered by the fate of their comrade.