Orson's gaze turned cold. Activating Whisper of the Wind, he launched a rapid barrage of Chaos Magic Balls.
Critical Hit - 400,000!
Critical Hit - 410,000!
…
A gleam flashed in Orson's eyes.
The critical damage had clearly been nerfed to some extent, but as long as the shadow took damage, it meant this projection could be killed!
The Crimson Lizard King twirled midair, circling around Vortigon's body, allowing Orson to rain down fire from a distance.
Its blood-red eyes swept the surroundings, constantly vigilant for the encroaching thunderclouds. It dispersed the lightning with bursts of dragon breath.
Orson wildly swung his Supreme Arcane Blade, unleashing nine basic attacks per second. Chaos Magic Balls exploded one after another on the shadow's body.
Before long, Vortigon's shadow dropped to 51% HP. Orson nodded to himself.
So even a Forbidden Curse isn't flawless. The place that looks the most dangerous might actually be the safest.
But just as that thought crossed his mind, something shocking happened.
Vortigon's eyelid suddenly twitched.
Orson froze. Maybe it was just an illusion caused by the Crimson Lizard King flying too fast?
He shook off the unease and kept attacking.
But as the shadow's HP fell to 49%, its head suddenly jerked.
Wait… no way. Is it waking up?!
A chill ran down Orson's spine. He knew the three Dragon Gods were long dead, but every hair on his body stood on end.
The last time the Crimson Lizard King's ancestor, Draconis, showed up, even demigod Tulikiki backed off. Who knew what chaos this Forbidden Curse-projected image of a Dragon King could unleash?
Orson's expression turned grim. There was no point regretting now—he might as well go all in.
A Chaos Hexagram formed. Black flames erupted from the Supreme Arcane Blade.
"Awakened Skill: Judgment Flame!"
Orson's eyes gleamed with killing intent. "Even if you're the Dragon God himself, I'll cut you down all the same!"
The Death Star expanded instantly. Orson's face hardened as he guided its path straight into Vortigon's gaping maw.
A twisted grin crept onto his face. "Love devouring elemental power? I'll feed you till you burst."
The Judgment Flame hovered by Vortigon's mouth for half a second before it opened wide and inhaled—sucking it in completely.
Orson snapped his fingers. "Now blow up!"
Two seconds passed… No explosion.
Instead, Vortigon burped.
Both Orson and the dragon were dumbfounded.
A giant smoke ring floated out of Vortigon's mouth.
Miss!
"…You've gotta be kidding me."
A massive message box popped up.
Orson's face twitched as he suffered a mental breakdown. He'd imagined a hundred different outcomes—none as ridiculous as this.
Destruction Dragon Form!
Mana Recoil: Nullified!
Magic Immunity: 99%!
Physical Immunity: 99%!
…
Orson swallowed hard.
A Body Domination buff popped up in Vortigon's status bar—lasting a full 15 minutes.
Dragon Kings typically only had a few seconds of domination time. Fifteen minutes? That was practically invincible.
Not only did it grant near-complete damage immunity, but it came with twelve stacked buffs, and its HP suddenly increased by 100 million.
"…How the hell do you fight this?" Orson's face went dark.
Then a sense of extreme danger hit him. His heart sank.
"Don't just stand there—run!!"
The Crimson Lizard King whipped its tail with a thunderous boom, diving straight downward.
But just as they moved, Orson glanced back—and was met by a towering blue mountain.
On closer look… it wasn't a mountain at all.
It was a massive blue tail, stretching for miles.
"…Draconis? Is that you?"
A ghostly voice echoed out.
Both Orson and the Lizard King froze, as if crushed under a mountain.
They hovered in place, encircled by endless thunderclouds.
The Crimson Lizard King sensed something was off and prepared to blast its way out with dragon breath. But Orson stopped it immediately.
"Don't move. Seriously. Don't even twitch."
Sweat poured from his forehead. He realized—any movement, and they'd be annihilated by a million lightning bolts.
"…Draconis, why aren't you dead? No—wait. I remember you clearly. You died alongside your disgrace of a master."
Orson looked back at Vortigon's shadow.
Its eyes were open now.
Pupils like flawless jade discs locked onto them.
"Draconis's master?"
Orson's heart skipped a beat. He remembered the markings on Draconis—only one man could have ever tamed the ruler of the underworld.
"She's living it up, you know? Got dragons feeding her brain soup every day. Death? Nah, she's fine," Orson said casually, playing it cool.
Vortigon nodded. "Indeed. My younger brother feared death. He couldn't match that human, so he chose submission."
The Crimson Lizard King, hearing this insult to its ancestor, wanted to roar—but Orson forcibly restrained it. It could only let out a frustrated whimper.
"Younger brother…"
Orson stifled a laugh.
This shadow—summoned by the Forbidden Curse—was just a fragment of a Dragon God's soul. Its mind was fractured. Maybe… he could trick it.
"Wait... who are you?" Vortigon narrowed its eyes.
Its terrifying head leaned in, staring straight at Orson.
Panic surged inside him. His eyes twitched violently. Two Super God-tier Soul Seals on his body activated, radiating brilliant white light.
Vortigon's eyes widened. "BlazeKing… you're still alive? Impossible."
"Hmph. Nothing's impossible. I am the supreme power of heaven and earth. Want to try me?"
Orson lifted his Supreme Arcane Blade, boldly meeting the Dragon God's gaze without fear.
Vortigon fell silent for a moment before sighing.
"You can't fathom the might of the galactic gods, nor the power of the Heaven Demon. Stop struggling. We've already lost."
Orson's heart clenched.
Vortigon had mistaken him for BlazeKing because of the soul seals. That made sense.
But the implications of what it just said—were staggering.
Apparently, during the Era of Immortals, the three Dragon Gods had rebelled under the gods' oppression, fighting endlessly against the Heaven Demon in Hardcore Mode.
And they'd lost.
That entire history… erased from memory.
Orson's curiosity burned like fire. He wanted to ask more—but right now, survival was the top priority.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke calmly. "The game's not over yet."
Looking at the swirling thunderclouds around them, he took on the air of a battle-hardened war god and said coldly, "Clear the way."
As soon as he spoke, the thunderclouds slowly dispersed.
Inside, Orson muttered to himself, Fly slower. Stay cool. Act like you're always ready to throw down if anyone dares stop you.
One man, one dragon—facing the storm head-on.
They finally pierced through the cloud sea.
The view ahead cleared—only to reveal that during their battle with Vortigon, the world below had changed completely.
Pondenorlin City was gone—completely obliterated.
The map itself looked entirely different. The ground was riddled with craters. Destruction was everywhere.
The only ones left in the city were a few fearless battlefield streamers, still recording from the corners, unwilling to miss out on the riches from millions of viewers.
Orson squinted.
He saw Flame Fosset and the others hiding inside a large cyan cauldron.
It was the same bizarre broken relic once held by Grevor.