Translator: CinderTL
Faced with Tula's seductive and condescending overture, Roland's heart remained completely unmoved. He even scoffed at the "grand blueprint" Tula had painted.
The shadows of dragons soaring across the sky, the ancient Demon Capital awakening beneath the earth, and the demons and devils emerging from otherworldly planes...
His own experiences had already revealed to him that the hidden undercurrents of this world were far more complex and profound than the "reshaping of the wasteland" Tula spoke of.
Tula's words were merely the delusions of a man who had never left his well.
Moreover, the man before him was the very culprit who had persecuted Galvis.
For all reasons—both emotional and practical—there was no possibility of compromise.
"Journey to the void together?"
Roland's brow twitched slightly, and a clear sneer escaped his teeth.
Though the fragmented divine authorities Tula wielded were indeed troublesome, containing a conceptual suppression that mortal strength could hardly hope to reach...
Roland had also keenly sensed that these powers were a chaotic and impure mess.
Like a magnificent robe patched together with scraps, the interior was incomplete, let alone seamless and flawless.
Besides, if Tula had his stolen trump cards, did Roland not have his own?
His thoughts flashed like lightning through his mind. After dodging the entanglement of a twisted shadow by a mere hair's breadth, Roland abruptly raised his head.
His once-deep eyes had now completely transformed into cold, molten-gold vertical slits.
They resembled molten gold, brimming with the ancient and majestic aura of a predator.
"Roar!"
A low yet soul-shaking roar erupted from deep within his throat.
In an instant, the blood coursing through his veins ignited like a raging wildfire, boiling with unprecedented intensity. The scorching power was no longer a mere stream but a torrent of lava, instantly sweeping through his entire body.
[Dragon Transformation], activate!
Unlike any time before, backed by the nearly infinite primal energy of the [Primal Core], this transformation was no longer a partial mutation.
Fine, hard dragon scales did not merely cover his arms or cheeks. Instead, they proliferated and spread beneath his skin like living creatures, instantly blanketing his main torso and leaving only minute gaps at the joints for mobility. These scales were a dark, muted gold, flowing with a lava-like luster and radiating a heart-stopping pressure.
Though his body did not swell or grotesquely mutate, his muscular lines became more pronounced and explosive, as if every fiber contained the strength to tear a dragon asunder. At his elbows and knees, sharp, menacing bone spurs erupted, gleaming with a cold light.
Unlike his previous partial dragon transformation, Roland's Dragon Transformation was now nearly complete, bolstered by the Primal Core . He was no longer merely borrowing power; he had truly awakened and briefly harnessed the ancient majesty of his bloodline's source.
A wave of pressure, far more pure and tyrannical than before, erupted from him, instantly dispelling the oppressive aura of Turana's mixed divine power.
Noticing the astonishing change in Roland, a flicker of surprise crossed Tula's eyes.
But it was immediately replaced by disdain and mockery.
"Dragon Transformation?"
He sneered, his voice dripping with condescending contempt.
"How interesting. To see such a degree of bloodline manifestation in a mere mortal... A pity it is but a hollow shell!"
He spread his arms, the chaotic divine power swirling around him flaring with renewed intensity.
"Even the true Ancient Dragons of the First Era were but pets toyed with in the gods' palms—mere creatures of some strength under the Great Will!"
"Much less a... mixed-blood hybrid like you? A pathetic imitator dares to act so insolently before the divine authority!"
Before his words had even finished, Tula launched a new assault.
"Lebeiras Nerifien! Let the silence of death shroud this wretch!"
In an instant, an invisible, soul-shivering chill erupted from Tula, spreading outward.
The air around Roland seemed to be sucked dry, replaced by a withered, desolate power that signaled the end of all things. Beneath his feet, the lush green vegetation visibly withered and turned gray. Even the stones seemed to lose their "lifeless" luster, fading into a dull, colorless gloom.
This power was formless and weightless, yet it acted directly upon the essence of life, attempting to drain Roland's very vitality. Even his dragon scales were coated in a layer of ashen gray.
Immediately after, Tula traced a gesture in the air, pointing upward.
"Didri! With your ingenuity in forging all things, bind him!"
As his voice fell, countless magical chains, gleaming with a cold metallic light, materialized in the air. These chains were not made of physical metal, yet they were tougher than adamantine, their links flowing with runes of sealing and binding. Like living serpents, they coiled toward Roland from all directions.
Not only was their speed astonishing, but they also carried the rule-based power of "Perfect Construction." It seemed that once locked by these chains, it would be impossible to break free through brute force alone.
Two completely different Fragmented Divine Powers—one eroding life, the other binding freedom—worked in tandem to form a lethal trap, closing in on the newly dragon-transformed Roland.
Though the attack was blindingly fast, it still had to traverse space, leaving an infinitesimal gap in time.
In that critical instant, Roland moved.
Boom!
It wasn't a deafening explosion, but rather the low rumble of a sonic boom.
The ground where he had stood violently cratered and cracked, while his dragon-transformed figure vanished completely.
The next moment, not only did Nerifien's deathly aura and Didri's magical chains strike empty air, but even the lingering Shadow Spider Silk, tracking arrows, and Fire of Lust scattered aimlessly, having lost their target.
"Is this... Space Movement? No... that's not right..."
Tula's crimson pupils constricted, his brow furrowing. He sensed no magical fluctuations.
Could it be—
Before the thought could fully form, a piercing whoosh tore through the air beside him.
Tula instinctively whipped his head toward the sound.
What met his gaze was a pair of cold, ruthless golden slit pupils, and a blade wreathed in golden radiance already closing in on his face.
Even before the sword's edge reached him, the air pressure from it tearing through the atmosphere stung his skin.
"What?"
A flicker of genuine terror finally crossed Tula's eyes.
Yet, despite the storm raging in his heart, he refused to lie down and die.
"Angharradh! Grant me the Immortal Barrier of Life!"
In an instant, a warm, vibrant green halo erupted before him.
Within the glow, phantom images of newborn vines and leaves intertwined and flowed, radiating an aura of "Absolute Protection" and "Calamity Warding."
Klang!
Roland's sword struck the green halo with a dull thud, like a blade cleaving into the roots of a ten-thousand-year-old ancient tree.
The searing Dragon Blood Battle Qi and the terrifying power imbued in the blade poured forth in a furious torrent, yet the barrier, imbued with the resilience of life, absorbed and neutralized it layer by layer. Not even a single crack appeared.
Power at the level of Rules... Roland thought. It truly cannot be shattered by mere physical strength.
Though he didn't know exactly how many fragmented divine authorities Tula wielded, it stood to reason that if he possessed offensive powers, he must also have defensive ones.
Having anticipated this, Roland felt neither surprise nor frustration.
The very moment his blade was halted, his wrist snapped. The downward cleave shifted into a horizontal thrust.
Instead of withdrawing his blade, Roland swung the Radiant Moon Longsword like a heavy club. He slammed the broad side of the blade horizontally into the emerald glow, channeling an unparalleled, crushing force into the strike.
Thud!
This time, there was no sharp clang of metal. Instead, it was a dull thud, like a sledgehammer striking tough leather.
The Goddess of Life's protective authority could "isolate calamity," meaning it could repel the blade's edge and energy attacks. But it could not completely neutralize this sheer, absolute physical impact.
Tula felt an irresistible, overwhelming force surge through the barrier. The divine radiance swirling around him flickered violently. He was thrown backward as if struck head-on by a colossal, savage elephant, his balance shattered. He became a blurred streak as he was sent flying.
"Brute! Barbarian!"
Though the Indestructible Barrier had shielded him from any direct damage, the sheer humiliation of his posture after the blow left Tula seething with fury.
Just as he prepared to cast a spell to steady himself and counterattack, a muffled sonic boom echoed in the air directly in his flight path.
Roland's figure, moving even faster than Tula was flying backward, materialized like a phantom at his predicted landing spot.
The same cold, vertical pupils. The same sword, already swung back.
No!
Tula only had time for a silent scream of shock and fury.
Thud!
Another devastatingly heavy strike slammed precisely into his back.
The Silverglint Light Membrane still shone, shielding his body from direct harm, but the terrifying impact force stacked once more, violently altering his trajectory.
He was sent hurtling in another direction, like a leather ball being mercilessly batted around.
What followed was a bizarre and breathtaking spectacle above the ravaged battlefield.
Tula, enveloped in his silver radiance, became a baseball struck repeatedly by an invisible bat, his path through the air a series of abrupt, chaotic zigzags.
Meanwhile, the dragon-transformed Roland had become an omnipresent afterimage of dark gold.
With his inconceivable speed and strength, he accurately predicted Tula's flight path every single time, appearing at the landing spot ahead of him, and then ruthlessly swung his sword to send him flying once more.
Thump!
Thump!
Thud!
The dull sounds of impact echoed continuously, an endless barrage of blows.
Though Tula possessed numerous God-Favored Authorities, he was utterly helpless against Roland's sheer speed and strength—a brutal, straightforward assault that defied all reason. He couldn't even muster a single complete spell.
Trapped within the shimmering light membrane of his Absolute Defense, he could only endure this unprecedented humiliation and the crushing force of the blows.
Yet, even the strongest force must eventually find a fulcrum.
Battered and disoriented, Tula was tossed about in the air like a rootless duckweed. He was in no state to launch a counterattack; even maintaining the Divine Authorities he had already unleashed was becoming an impossible struggle.
The emerald arrows, the obsidian spider silk, the leaping flames...
These fragmented authorities, driven by his will, flickered like candles in a gale as his mind reeled from the shock. One by one, they sputtered out and vanished into the air.
Just then, the drow and surface elves, drawn by the terrifying shockwaves of the energy clash, finally arrived at the edge of the battlefield.
They arrived just in time to witness a scene that would be etched into their memories forever.
Tula, whom they had always revered as a godlike figure, was being batted around the sky like a ball by a dark golden figure, utterly unable to fight back.
For a moment, both drow and surface elves forgot their ancient hatreds. Only stunned disbelief remained, along with a primal fear of the raw, savage strength displayed by the dark golden figure—a strength akin to that of a monstrous beast.
Thump!
Another heavy blow struck.
This time, the impact caused Tula's emerald-green life barrier to flicker violently. A faint crack echoed, like glass on the verge of shattering.
Clearly, without Tula's continuous spiritual sustenance, the powerful shield had finally reached its limit. Its radiance dimmed and faded, receding like a low tide.
Just before Roland's next strike could land, the emerald barrier burst with a soft pop, like a soap bubble, and vanished completely.
Opportunity!
A fierce glint flashed in Roland's cold, vertical pupils. He didn't hesitate for a moment.
With a flick of his wrist, he shifted from a slashing strike to a thrust.
The Radiant Moon Longsword, like a bolt of cold lightning tearing through the night sky or a striking viper, pierced the air with a sharp whistle, thrusting straight toward Tula's now-defenseless chest.
This strike was fast, precise, and ruthless—a blow meant to utterly impale his opponent.
But just as the sword's tip was about to touch Tula's robes—
"Enough."
A voice rang out.
Strangely, it wasn't a roar filled with hatred or fury. On the contrary, it was exceptionally flat, carrying a detached indifference as if it were severed from all things.
Even more chilling was the change in the voice's quality. It was no longer entirely Tula's original voice; it seemed to be laced with some ancient, non-human echo. And...
It didn't sound as if it were coming from Tula's mouth. Instead, it seemed to resonate directly within the surrounding space—or rather, it echoed directly inside Roland's mind.
The next moment, Roland felt as if the tip of his sword had plunged into an invisible yet incredibly viscous swamp, his forward momentum instantly halted.
Immediately after, an indescribable force tightened abruptly.
It was as if countless invisible threads of law had seized his blade, fixing it firmly in mid-air, refusing to yield a single inch.
Roland's heart jolted. He raised his gaze.
He saw the tip of Radiant Moon held steady by Tula's hand, which had been raised at some unknown moment.
It wasn't brute strength; it was as if the small patch of space where the blade rested had been completely "locked."
But this wasn't what astonished Roland the most.
What truly sounded the alarm in his mind was Tula's gaze.
Within his eyes, all emotion—shock, fury, arrogance, or even his previous hypocrisy—had vanished. All that remained was a calm so profound it bordered on void, the look of one gazing down upon all creation.
As if nothing in the world could ever disturb his composure again.
And...
The divine aura around Tula, once a chaotic and violent mixture, was now ascending at a suffocating speed.
It was as if some ancient shackle was being shattered, and a deeper, more fundamental power was awakening from within him.
(End of the Chapter)
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