[Location - Northern Demon Region]
Hovering above the Silent Blade Clan, Raiking and Ezmelral stood together, their robes fluttering wildly as their eyes fixated on the serene scene below—a fortress of shadows on the brink of facing utter devastation.
"How should we move forward?" Ezmelral inquired.
Raiking's gaze shifted upward, penetrating the clouds as he lifted his hand. The sky began to darken, responding to his formidable spiritual pressure, infusing the atmosphere with raw, fearsome energy.
Raiking then declared:
"Storm Dragon... heed my call."
---
[Location - Grandmaster Vex's Cultivation Chamber]
Rumble.
Rumble.
The profound, unnatural vibration of the approaching storm jolted Vex, who had been immersed in deep meditation, to suddenly open his eyes.
"Master?" Thamriel, The Tower of Gaze, standing guard by the stone doors, asked with confusion as he hurried to Vex's side.
"A Divine Stage is approaching," Vex stated ominously.
Just as the Grandmaster was about to issue a defensive command, the clouds rumbled one final time. The sharp, violent crackle of localized lightning ripped through the sky, immediately followed by an earth-shattering BOOM!
The impact of something colossal striking the ground outside shook the entire temple's structure, causing dust to cascade from the stone ceiling.
"It has arrived."
---
[Location - Silent Blade Clan's Main Courtyard]
The central courtyard of the Clan, once covered in untouched stone tiles, had been utterly demolished.
In their place was a massive, smoking crater. The Clan's alarm bells shattered the night's silence, summoning dozens of elite assassins from the shadows within moments.
They swiftly encircled the crater, adopting a flawless tactical formation. From the rooftops, kunai and bow users took their positions, while experienced warriors on the ground stood poised, their poison-laced blades ready for immediate action.
These were the most lethal killers on the continent. Yet, as they peered into the swirling dust, a primal fear gripped them. A deep-seated intuition—refined over countless life-or-death encounters—alerted them to the impending danger.
From the obscured haze, a volley of azure dragon scales suddenly surged outward, traveling at incredible speed and slicing through the air like whistling blades.
"Incoming!" a Divine Stage expert shouted.
Some managed to defend themselves.
Others felt their skin rip and bones break as the unbreakable scales pierced them, pinning several assassins against the courtyard walls.
"It's an enemy attack!"
That was all the archers needed to hear. They released their bowstrings, launching a deadly barrage of arrows into the haze.
But the arrows never hit their mark.
A powerful gust—akin to the wrath of a massive dragon's wing about to soar—dispersed the smoke and arrows in a single, forceful wave.
With the dust now cleared, their adversary stood revealed.
In the center of the crater was an imposing man. His forearms and cheeks were armored with shimmering, unbreakable blue scales, while wild static electricity crackled around the jagged horns jutting from his head.
Sniff.
"The foul stench of demon blood," declared the Storm Dragon, his deep voice echoing through the courtyard as he surveyed the devastation caused by his own ferocity.
"Take him down!" the squad captain ordered, realizing that negotiation was not an option with this creature.
The Storm Dragon's lips twisted into a wild smile.
He disappeared in a burst of bright blue lightning. The air where he had stood collapsed with a thunderous roar, rupturing the eardrums of the assassins nearest to the crater.
Before the archers on the rooftop could prepare another shot, a streak of blue light darted across the courtyard.
BOOM. An Early Immortal Stage warrior was flung backward through a solid stone pillar, his chest shattered by a single, crushing punch.
A Peak Immortal Stage warrior launched an attack from above, aiming her poison-laced blades at the Dragon's neck. The Dragon did not even look up. Instead, he pivoted and delivered a lightning-charged roundhouse kick, striking the assassin in mid-air. The immense force broke her spine and sent her crashing into the outer wall.
He wielded no weapons, nor did he conjure any intricate magical formations. His combat style was characterized by sheer speed and raw power. Each punch resounded like a cannon blast; each kick unleashed shockwaves that ripped the remaining stone tiles from the ground. He was a hurricane in humanoid form, moving too swiftly for mortal eyes to track.
The Clan's elites—feared across entire empires—were reduced to mere dry leaves swept up in a storm.
In mere moments, the courtyard was awash with demon blood. The Dragon came to a halt, seizing the squad captain by the throat and lifting him effortlessly into the air. Crackling static electricity surged from the Dragon's scales, instantly disabling the assassin's nervous system.
"Weak," the Storm Dragon sneered, drawing back his fist to shatter the captain's skull.
Suddenly, the ambient temperature plummeted. A suffocating, oppressive aura slammed into the courtyard like a falling meteor.
A massive shadow abruptly eclipsed the moonlight. The Dragon glanced up just in time to see a colossal, multi-story pagoda—radiating a heavy, dark Qi meant to crush a cultivator's soul—hurtling directly toward his head.
Instead of taking the hit, the Dragon's form blurred.
A bolt of azure lightning arched into the sky a fraction of a second before the giant structure slammed into the courtyard.
BOOM! The earth buckled violently under the weight of the pagoda, sending a shockwave of pulverized stone and dust rippling outward, completely flattening what was left of the rank-and-file assassins.
High above the carnage, atop the curved, obsidian roof of a nearby guard tower, ambient static coalesced. The Storm Dragon reappeared, perfectly balanced on the slanted tiles, his grip still locked effortlessly around the suffocating captain's throat.
He didn't look at the destruction below. His reptilian eyes were fixed entirely on the airspace in front of the Grandmaster's main temple.
Hovering side-by-side in the night sky were two figures, both radiating the absolute peak of the Divine Stage.
One was Thamriel, The Tower of Gaze. His hand was outstretched, his fingers glowing with the same dark Qi that tethered him to the massive pagoda now resting in the courtyard.
Beside him floated a towering behemoth of a man draped in heavy, spiked demonic armor—Karthix. His physical presence was so dense and toxic that it practically boiled the air around him.
The two elites stared down at the intruder, their auras locking onto the Dragon with lethal intent.
A vicious, battle-hungry smile stretched across the Storm Dragon's scaled face. He casually tossed the half-dead captain off the roof like a discarded rag.
"Finally," the Storm Dragon rumbled, cracking his neck as violent azure lightning flared brightly around his forearms. "Something that won't break on the first hit."