Reaper of the Martial World

Book 12: Chapter 57: Peace (3)

Dyon silently watched as the Dragon King became a dense skeleton of black bone. However, the red pulsing veins on its chest didn’t disappear. Instead, it became a part of the Dragon King’s form, coursing through his black bone almost like they were countless fractures.

‘… A blood sprite…’

Dyon had never heard of the existence of one, nor had he ever read about them. His words were simply a deduction based on what he could observe.

The red pulsing veins had life to them. They weren’t inanimate, nor did they seem like a sort of technique. It most definitely was a lifeform.

In addition to this, whatever sort of lifeform it was, it was parasitic.

Theoretically, if a blood sprite were to exist, they would need to act in much the same way Little Rain had.

In order to be born, Little Rain had to immerse himself in a dense pack of minerals. The same was true of the fire sprite Little Rain had swallowed. Who knew how long Orcus had spent feeding it flames?

So, by extension, a blood sprite would need a lot of blood. Large creatures full of vitality like Dragons were an ideal choice.

‘… This thing was attached to the Dragon King by other Dragons on purpose…’ historical

When Dyon got to this part of the Dragon King’s memories, his rage reached another level. It seemed that it wasn’t just because he was being chased that the old lizard failed to advance, but also being this thing was eating away at his vitality…

‘Good… What a noble Hegemon…’

Dyon clenched his teeth tightly.

They used the Dragon King for their experiments. Yet, didn’t extend a hand to help him at all when he ran into problems. Dyon was so mad he began to laugh. His every chuckle was so oppressive that the Immortal Saints who remained behind felt that a foot was continuously stamping down on their chests.

Dyon’s Sovereign Flame licked across his skin, snatching something invisible to the eye from the air without allowing it to dissipate.

Dyon pupils constricted. ‘Dragon Soul.’

Not only had Dyon not been able to see it even with his eyes, but he had been completely unable to sense it with his Immortal Sense as well. However, his Sovereign Flame not only found it, it snatched it for itself, swallowing it whole.

The golden flame formed an equally golden fog, stretching up into the skies and into the form a dragon.

A devastating roar projecting outward, causing rings of gold to pulse out from the fog’s lips.

Dyon’s shock faded away, his jaw setting once more. He would allow the Dragon King to swallow the Dragon Clan in revenge. His Dragon Soul would snatch their spirits… The very Blood Sprite they gave him would snatch their bodies.

“Come here.”

Dyon stretched out a hand toward Kywen, causing the latter’s neck to uncontrollably fly into his palm.

The fear in Kywen’s gaze was palpable. But he didn’t have the ability to resist. Dyon’s Presence was far too fearsome.

With a casual toss, Kywen was sent toward the Dragon’s King’s corpse.

The blood red veins lashed out like tentacles, stabbing into Kywen’s body without a care for his screams.

Dyon’s pupils constricted. ‘… What kind of madness is this… It’s actually taking… His blood essence?!’

Blood Essence was the one thing perpetually protected by the Heavens. No matter how weak or strong your race, without your expressed consent, it was impossible for another to snatch away your blood essence. Yet, this infallible rule had actually been broken right before him.

‘… I see… So that’s what happened…’

The Dragons fused an incomplete product with the Dragon King tens of millions of years ago. Those who came before him didn’t even live a hundred years past the time of their fusion, but the Dragon King was different, managing to survive by far the longest. The secret behind his success wasn’t only his tenacity, but the fact that he had managed to perfect the blood sprite.

When he accomplished this, he should have been able to skyrocket in strength, forcibly absorbing the blood essence of his enemies to strengthen himself. But, by the time he succeeded, his body was a mere shell. The only thing that kept him going was his own will.

The mighty Dragon King had become a cripple.

He was seeking out Dyon because he needed an alchemist capable of healing him. No Venerable or Empyrean was talented enough to help him, and it was simply impossible for him, a mere Immortal Essence expert, to employ an Alchemy God.

‘… If you needed help, you should have just asked.’

Dyon looked up into the skies, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. For the sake of the Dragon King, he refused to let them fall.

Kywen’s screams faded and rattling of bone followed.

The Dragon King slowly stood to his four limbs, his bony wings spreading outward and his long neck stretching into the skies. Fog billowed from its body, creating the faint shadow of what his most glorious form once took.

A body of several kilometers long. Horns that pierced through the Heavens with disdain. A pride that thumped across his chest endlessly.

His ruby eyes looked down and met Dyon’s. For a moment, it seemed to carry real life to it before it faded forever.

The Dragon King, a legend of an era… Had passed.  –> <img src=’https://st.moonquill.com/avatar/129′ alt=”…” class=”avatar-img rounded-circle border border-4 border-body”> <h6 class=”header-pretitle”> Author’s Note </h6> <h1 class=”header-title”> Awespec </h1> <h3 class=”header-subtitle text-white”>Rest in Peace.</h3>