Chapter Sixty-One: The Advent of the First Dragon King

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Seeing the astonishment in the Priestess of the Dark Moon’s eyes as she looked at him, Zigu hurriedly hid his weapon behind his back and grinned mischievously. “You all carry on, don’t mind me!”

Zigu was wielding a sci-fi artifact—the High-Energy Pulse Ion Gun. Mutou also had one; back when Zigu first visited a science fiction dimension on assignment, he’d gifted Mutou one of these guns. But how could the Priestess of the Dark Moon from the fantasy realm possibly recognize such a thing? Her first reaction was, “Magitek divine weapon... How does this brat possess a magitek divine weapon?!”

Her mind raced as she lashed out at Zigu with her bone whip.

“My, what a vicious woman! Everyone, the situation’s bad, time to scatter!” Zigu’s words were a warning to the group to flee; he knew they were hopelessly outmatched by the woman. Gu Feng, Mutou, and the rest understood, but the problem was that their opponent’s power far exceeded theirs—they couldn’t escape just because they wanted to.

Hearing Zigu’s cheeky words, the Priestess of the Dark Moon pressed her attack even harder. But Zigu wasn’t idle as he spoke; a beam of light flashed from his hand, and his High-Energy Oscillation Blade swept up to parry the incoming bone whip. Where sword and whip met, a segment of the bone whip was sliced clean off.

“A magical lightsaber... Who is this boy, and how does he have so many magitek divine weapons!” the priestess cried out.

Seeing Zigu’s strike succeed, Mutou suddenly recalled that he also possessed a High-Energy Oscillation Blade. Though this sci-fi weapon was razor-sharp, able to cut through metal and jade alike, it was not as versatile in attack as a cultivator’s flying sword, imbued with true essence and thus far mightier. After learning to control his flying sword, Mutou had rarely used the oscillation blade. Yet now, he realized the unique uses of sci-fi artifacts; at the very least, the bone whip that none of them could defend against had just been sliced by Zigu.

Infuriated that her prized weapon had been damaged, even if only slightly, the Priestess of the Dark Moon let out a furious shout. With a sweep of her power, Mutou, Gu Feng, and Baldy were all sent flying. If they hadn’t dodged quickly, the bone whip would have struck them.

Seeing the priestess coming for him, seeking revenge for that earlier blow, Zigu turned and fled, shouting as he ran, “Mama mia! This shrew is out for blood! Everyone, time to show your trump cards! Hey! If you keep chasing me, my trump card will make you suffer!”

Up until now, everyone had been fighting with only their innate strength; no one had revealed their trump cards. Mutou didn’t know what the others’ hidden moves were, but he himself had yet to use his—borrowing the power of two flood dragons, he reckoned he was no weaker than any of the so-called top five. And there was still the Fearless One standing by.

Hearing Zigu threaten to reveal his trump card, the Priestess of the Dark Moon assumed he’d stumbled upon some relic of the ancient magical civilization—most likely a magitek colossus. She quickened her pursuit, determined to stop him from using such an artifact.

Just as she was about to catch Zigu, Mutou and the others exchanged glances, ready to reveal their own trump cards. Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed from the mountaintop, shaking everyone to their core.

They looked toward the source of the shout, only to see a dazzling golden light split the sky, forming a brilliant rainbow that stirred the winds and clouds as it swept toward them with unstoppable force. As the golden light drew near, they saw it was a towering man, descending gracefully atop a golden sword, accompanied by a majestic golden lion. He himself was clothed in gold, his robe radiating such brilliance and heat that none could look directly at him. The blazing splendor commanded the attention of all present.

“The Golden Sword, the Lion of Baili!” the Demon Emperor Kalan intoned gravely.

“Master Baili, at last you’ve arrived!” exclaimed the Grand Priest of the Elves, his face a mixture of shock and joy.

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“Stop showing off! You’ll get struck by lightning for it!” Zigu muttered, dissatisfied with the man’s ostentatious entrance. “You couldn’t have shown up earlier or later? You just had to arrive when I was about to unleash my great technique—trying to steal my spotlight as the protagonist...!”

“Kalan the Demon Emperor, the Dark Moon Priestess, Sword God Xius, and the Lion of Baili—four of the Five Greats are here. Things are about to get very serious,” Gu Feng murmured.

“If there are four, who’s the last?” Mutou asked quietly.

“The last will never come again,” answered the newly arrived Lion of Baili, a hint of sorrow on his face. “His power grew too great for this world; he has drawn down the Heavenly Tribulation…”

All three of the other Greats understood instantly, their faces clouding with sorrow. This, after all, was their own impending fate: either dying of old age, or growing so powerful that the Heavenly Tribulation would come for them.

The Heavenly Tribulation of the fantasy plane was not like that of the cultivation realms. Here, it struck at once with the full force of the ninth tier, obliterating both body and soul; there were no stages, no opportunities for advancement—survival was impossible.

“But before his death, he poured all his mind and power into this golden sword. For a short time, the golden sword acts as his avatar!” The Lion of Baili’s sorrow vanished, replaced by boldness. “Priestess of the Dark Moon, Demon Emperor Kalan, do you think you can stand against the three of us together?”

“Hmph! When you rode your sword here, your aura was far above ours. I thought you’d reached a new height, but it turns out you’re just borrowing that dead man’s dying power. Hmph, a dead thing dares to frighten us!”

“Very well—let me show you what this dead thing can do!” With that, the Lion of Baili raised his golden sword.

“Forbidden Sword of Ancient Martial Arts—Hundred Blades Annihilation!” With a mighty roar, he unleashed a peerless technique; a hundred golden beams shot toward the Demon Emperor.

The force of this sword was world-shaking. Even the mighty Demon Emperor dared not meet it head-on, but dodged at a distance.

“Hmph! Where do you think you’re going? Forbidden Sword—Golden Shadow Strike!”

This was the Lion of Baili’s signature move, his attack pursuing the Demon Emperor like a relentless shadow.

“Lion of Baili, you go too far! I’ll fight you to the end!” the Demon Emperor Kalan bellowed, invisible energies between his hands nearly becoming tangible as he pushed back against the golden sword energy.

Everyone watched, transfixed by the clash of two of the world’s mightiest beings, too absorbed to notice the Priestess of the Dark Moon chanting incantations at the side: “By the light of six stars and five flames, by the utmost of heaven and earth, of demon and blood, by the pact of the Dark Moon, let the stars shift and all burn to ash in a single blow.”

Among all those present, only one person heard the priestess’s incantation: the great sage, Philia Julia.

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“Stars shift, all burn to ash in one blow? Not good, stop at once!” But her warning came too late—the power of the two strongest had already collided. Yet, instead of the cataclysm everyone expected, or an immediate victory for either side, the two converging forces simply vanished.

Startled, everyone froze for a split second—then a thunderous explosion erupted as the two energies reappeared out of nowhere, now targeting the magic array beneath the ground.

“Disaster!” cried the Elven Grand Priest. “Stars shift, all burn to ash in one blow! Priestess of the Dark Moon, Demon Emperor Kalan, what a cunning plot!”

“Hehehe!” The priestess laughed wildly. “Under the Dark Moon’s touch, this world is mine—I’ve said it many times, but you never believed me! Ah, this is a full-force strike from three—no, with that dead man, four of the strongest! The sixfold binding spell must break now!”

As she spoke, the magic array suddenly blazed with white light, but within it, cracks began to spread like spiderwebs, growing more numerous and dense.

The white light intensified, the cracks multiplied and thickened, until at last—a sharp, shattering sound, as if glass had broken. The white light vanished, and the once-intact array lay in ruins. All eyes were fixed anxiously on the remains, awaiting confirmation of the Grand Priest’s warning.

If nothing emerged, the array would be the legendary gateway to the divine realm. But in this world, there are no such ifs. As everyone watched, a monstrous roar erupted from the depths of the array, and the heavens and earth changed color as wind and cloud surged, all elemental forces converging on the array.

With a dragon’s roar, a beast emerged from the array: the wings of a Sky-Cleaving Pegasus, the body of a Jade Serpent, the horns of a Radiant Moon Deer, the eyes of a Netherworld Turtle, the claws of a Thunderhawk, the whiskers of a Rock-Shelled Shrimp, the tail of an Abyssal Carp... It was, indeed, the legendary form of the Divine Dragon King.

This peerless divine creature from the era of ancient magical civilization exuded a crushing spiritual pressure the instant it appeared; its titanic presence was something no human could hope to withstand, not even the greatest heroes.

With another earth-shaking roar, the Divine Dragon King fully emerged, opening its unfathomable maw. Vast elemental energies of heaven and earth surged into its mouth, each breath swallowing the world itself.

“At last, it has broken free!” the Elven Grand Priest exclaimed in despair, his face ashen. “It’s over... The living beings of this world cannot escape this calamity. This time, there is no one left who can return it to its original realm!”

As the Dragon King devoured the elements, the oppressive force suffocated all present; the very elements of the world churned as if trying to flee impending doom. Then, all at once, the entire space fell eerily still—not just a simple calm, but as if time itself had stopped. Even the surging elements sensed by Mutou froze motionless, no longer stirring, as though arrested by some invisible force.

This was the power of the failed creation of the gods themselves—the first Divine Dragon King. Its terrifying might rendered even the five greatest champions of the age as powerless as children before it.