Chapter 332: Temptation
"Who are you?"
Grand Duke Leo shivered violently and asked in his heart.
He had thought it was his own inner voice, but he quickly realized something was off. The realization sent a chill down his spine—the voice was clearly beyond his control.
"Who I am is not important."
"What matters is the red dragon. He killed your promising son, destroyed your invincible army, and is about to annihilate the family and country you hold dear."
"You were meant to be the ruler of the Northlands, with your name standing alongside Lionheart King Roselle, carrying the Bosk family's legacy for generations."
"But now, that red dragon has ruined everything."
"Don't you want revenge?"
The deep voice asked again, as though leading him into an abyss.
Leo's heart was suddenly filled with fear. He knew there were countless entities capable of invading the mind—illithids, demons, devils, and even some unknown extraplanar beings.
But regardless of its identity, to a mere mortal like him, it was extremely dangerous.
He suddenly recalled a legend that had been circulating for some time: It was said that in the Anstica Mountains, there was a demon of vengeance who could grant the vengeful great power, enabling them to dismember their enemies piece by piece.
The voice spoke again.
"I will grant you power. I will help you slay that evil dragon. You shall become Anzeta's savior, the true and only king of the Northlands!"
"But…"
"Roar—"
Another dragon's roar echoed through the sky, interrupting his thoughts.
Grand Duke Leo raised his head to see the massive red dragon soaring high, spewing torrents of flame that distorted the air and dyed half the sky a deep red, as if intending to burn the world to ashes.
The ancient silver dragon cast shimmering magical shields, struggling to fend off the inferno.
Yes.
Kill him.
Such a creature should not exist in the world.
Be it the temptation of a devil or the power of a demon, as long as it could eliminate the dragon threatening the Bosk Duchy and preserve the family's thousand-year rule, any price would be worth it.
Leo Bosk lowered his head. His bloodshot eyes brimmed with long-suppressed hatred as he appeared to make a decision.
"I agree."
"Good."
The voice let out a contemptuous laugh.
"Ugh—ah—"
Leo felt an overwhelmingly chaotic force surge into his heart, as if a giant hand were churning his internal organs.
But compared to the ecstasy of power, the pain seemed insignificant.
He had never felt so strong, his body so brimming with energy.
"However… I still need a little preparation."
Leo took out a crystal-clear gem, placed it near his mouth, and whispered, "The grand dragon-slaying ritual is about to begin. Scarlet Blades, prepare yourselves."
The duke's face twisted into an ecstatic smile, a faint green glow flickering in the depths of his pupils.
"You and your outdated order shall be torn apart by me!"
Cassius smashed through layer after layer of magical barriers, extending his powerful claws as he lunged at the ancient silver dragon mid-air.
But just as he was about to reach the silver scales, the dragon's body turned incorporeal, though the "illusion" had been casting spells moments before.
Cassius was startled and quickly turned his head.
"Simulacrum?"
"Arrogant whelp! I was battling primordial red dragons before you were even born!"
A roar echoed from behind him, and transparent scales shimmered in the air.
The surrounding air vibrated. It turned out the massive body of the silver dragon had suddenly appeared behind him, its foreclaw enhanced by spells like Bigby's Crushing Hand and Stonefist, striking the red dragon with tremendous force.
But just before the impact, Cassius' forelimb moved with lightning speed, like a blur.
"Slash—"
His claw, imbued with an antimagic field, slashed across the silver dragon's wing membrane, leaving five gashes several meters long on the previously immaculate, silver-plated surface.
"Boom!"
The immense force of the ninth-circle spell propelled Cassius backward.
Shattered red scales rained down from the sky.
With another resounding crash, Cassius' massive body slammed into a mountain, raising a storm of dust and embedding deep into the rocks. The entire slope collapsed as a result.
But soon, the dust cleared, and the immense form of the red dragon re-emerged.
"Tricky old lizard."
Cassius nonchalantly shook off the dust, golden flames burning across his body. The wounds on him healed at a visible speed as his pale golden eyes locked onto the silver dragon above.
"A thousand years old, and you still rely on such petty tricks?"
"Come, face me directly!"
Cassius roared defiantly toward the sky.
Even having lost half of his magical equipment, the ancient silver dragon's tactics were still terrifyingly numerous, and his combat experience was incredibly vast.
A millennium's worth of experience was no bluff. The seemingly endless stream of spells left Cassius feeling overwhelmed; a single misstep would lead him into a trap, followed by a relentless barrage of magical attacks.
"Brutish and uncouth!"
"I will show you what true order means!"
Oszedro flapped his wings mid-air, but his left wing had become tattered, his body flickering and covered in wounds, looking quite battered.
Though he spoke boldly, the ancient silver dragon's expression was grim, and his mercury-like eyes were filled with shock.
Oszedro was more convinced than ever—this red dragon had the potential to become a progenitor dragon, possibly even going further.
The magical essence in this red dragon was extraordinarily high. Ordinary spells could barely affect him, let alone leave marks on those impenetrable scales. Only spells of the seventh circle or higher barely had an effect.
His vitality was unimaginably abundant. Even taking direct hits from ninth-circle spells, he could regenerate at astonishing speeds. The energy coursing through his fearsome form seemed inexhaustible, like a magical reactor.
To the ancient silver dragon, the red dragon's only slight deficiency lay in spellcasting.
Yet even so, with extraordinary charisma, exceptional bloodline traits, and ancient draconic magic, he still possessed spellcasting abilities rivaling those of a legendary sorcerer.
The "Disjunction-like" magical suppression had already cost Oszedro dearly.
As the fog dissipated after the prolonged battle, under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands on the battlefield, the red and silver dragons once again faced each other from a distance.
The battlefield had been utterly transformed, with no trace of the once-flat wasteland.
The onlookers were utterly stunned.
The ravaged ground bore the marks of falling meteors, scorched and solidified lava, slowly flowing magma, melting ice mountains—a chaotic tapestry of extraordinary phenomena.