At the edge of the Bestial Forest, the once-great woodland had been utterly transformed into a lifeless wasteland—a scorched expanse of devastation, still radiating with the residual heat of battle. Craters disfigured the land, ash drifted through the air, and silence loomed like a funeral shroud.
At the center of the ravaged terrain, a massive pit had formed—still releasing waves of chaotic energy born from the clash of both beams of light. Any being below the Origin Warrior Realm would be disintegrated instantly by the lingering force.
When the explosion consumed both Leo and Drake, it hurled them violently through the air. The blast expanded with wild, uncontrollable fury—they had no power over it, only the bitter privilege of watching it unfold.
Drake was sent hurtling across the scorched landscape, crashing through what remained of the trees, carving a fresh crater where he landed. For long minutes, he lay still—then slowly, he rose. That battle had been a descent into hell. He hadn’t expected his Dragon Bloodline to awaken, to surge forth and join the chaos with primal excitement.
Yet, no system notification had confirmed Leo’s death.
Which meant—he was still alive.
Drake scanned the dust-choked surroundings. His golden eyes glinted as he activated the Abyssal Devouring Dragon Eye—his gaze turning draconic, infused with swirling hues of Devouring Originat. Within the obscuring haze, he spotted a crumpled figure not far away.
He walked forward, steady and resolute.
There lay Leo, unconscious, his body bruised and battered, garments torn and stained with the signs of defeat. Seeing this, Drake knew—this was his moment.
With calm finality, he unsheathed the Death Reaper, raising it high. The blade gleamed ominously in the dim light as he prepared to cleave Leo’s head from his body.
From afar, the onlookers saw him—Drake, standing amidst ruin, Death Reaper in hand, the edge of the blade like a sentence passed by the gods. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slashed through the air, a gesture that seemed to split silence itself.
And then—they felt it.
A crushing, suffocating pressure blanketed the battlefield. It weighed on the soul, smothered breath, and bent knees.
As if an Emperor had arrived.
"Who dares kill my grandson?"
The voice boomed like thunder, ancient and unrelenting. The sky darkened. The atmosphere shifted. Drake’s eyes widened in shock.
At the exact moment his blade reached Leo’s neck, a talisman burst into golden fragments—its magic shielding Leo from death. And with it came the arrival of a power beyond comprehension.
From the sky descended a golden-haired old man. His eyes were flames incarnate. Every flicker of fire across the land bowed to his will. At his fingertips, flames danced like children, joyous and deadly. His aura couldn’t be concealed—it roared like a volcano, threatening to incinerate the world around him.
The moment his presence fell upon the battlefield, everyone felt it.
Finn and Lizzy, who had been watching from afar, moved instantly, appearing before Drake in a defensive stance.
Elsewhere, Kaidros—locked in battle with another elder—sensed the overwhelming presence. Both combatants froze.
The old man Kaidros had been fighting stiffened. He recognized the aura, dread washing over him.
The Emperor had arrived.
His mind raced. That pressure was coming from where Leo had been.
Kaidros’ eyes widened. The location—the energy—it was all too clear. That was where Drake had fought.
An instant later, Kaidros burst into motion. The battle no longer mattered. Drake’s life and safety came above all else. He was their Emperor—and this was their duty.
The old man followed, abandoning the clash. In unspoken understanding, they raced together.
The old man surveyed the wasteland, his gaze settling on Leo’s wounded form. As he looked upon the battered body of his grandson, a flicker of sorrow passed through his eyes. Then, with a silent wave of his hand, Leo’s injuries began to heal, mended by golden flames that shimmered around him.
"So... you dare injure my grandson."
His voice was calm, but laced with venom. The golden-haired old man turned to face Drake, releasing an enormous, crushing aura upon him.
Yet Drake stood unfazed.
That pressure meant nothing before him. He was the Dragon Emperor—and more than that, a Devouring Dragon.
"Uh?" The golden-haired elder raised an eyebrow, attempting to pierce through Drake’s being with his gaze—but saw nothing. No weakness. No fear. Just an impenetrable force.
In the next instant, Finn and Lizzy appeared before Drake, shielding him with firm resolve. Moments later, Kaidros arrived, landing with silent urgency. Another elderly figure appeared beside the golden-haired man—the old one who had been entrusted with Leo’s protection.
"I asked you to protect my grandson, yet now he stands at death’s door—if not for the seal I placed on him."
The golden-haired old man’s voice was cold and bitter as he turned on the elder beside him.
The old man quickly began recounting everything: how Drake and his companions had suddenly appeared, proclaiming their intent to slay Leo without mercy or delay.
While the elders spoke in hushed but sharp tones, Drake reached out internally.
"Drax... is there no way out of this?" he asked, his voice heavy with dread. The pressure from the golden-haired elder was far beyond anything he’d faced.
"He’s at the Origin Emperor Realm," Drax’s words struck like thunder within Drake’s mind, sending him into a deep and grim silence.
Drake had anticipated encountering powerful cultivators within the Ignis Clan—but not someone standing at the very summit of existence. An Origin Emperor.
"Don’t panic," Drax continued. "That’s not his real body. It’s only a clone, bound to the boy’s talisman. But even so—it carries at least 20% of his original strength. Still, no one here can match it."
Drake clenched his fists. He knew this truth in his bones—as a Dragon, danger whispered louder in his blood.
"But there’s a way out."
"What way?" he asked urgently.
"Have you forgotten...?" Drax sighed, cryptically.
Meanwhile, as the golden-haired man finished listening to the report, his aura flared. Flames erupted across his body, blazing with uncontained rage.
"You dare try to kill my grandson so openly!" the old man roared, his voice shaking the heavens.
Without further warning, he thrust his hand forward. A single wisp of golden flame spiraled from his fingertips—small, almost insignificant at first—but as it struck the earth near Drake and his companions, it exploded.
Rivers of flame erupted outward, engulfing the group in an inferno that roared like a divine judgment.
But moments later, their silhouettes emerged from the fire—unharmed.
Drake stepped forward.
"Finn, Lizzy," he said calmly, "step back. You two would only become cannon fodder in what comes next."
They nodded, knowing the truth in his words. With a flash, they retreated, leaving only Kaidros standing beside Drake.
The Dragon Emperor turned his gaze back to the golden-haired old man. His eyes were like molten gold, fierce and unyielding.
"Now... it’s time to take care of you, old man." His lips curled into a smile, as his eyes locked onto the old man with an unyielding gaze.
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