What kind of weight was that!
Not to mention a mountain range, even a whole mountain range definitely wouldn't have a more terrifying weight than this treasure.
This single blow, this mere light swing, brought about immeasurable and immense consequences.
Endless power fiercely slammed down on the pitch-black giant dragon, then mercilessly smashed the black dragon, which had just left the ground, downwards.
Even the black dragon's power couldn't cause even a slight pause for a moment.
Immediately after, a roar, incomparably huge, could be clearly felt even from the other side of Tokyo.
At the same time, there was a tremendous earthquake. That vast and incomparable force, after fiercely slamming into the ground, caused the ground, which had endured this blow, to groan uncontrollably.
And beneath the black dragon's body, an enormous pit, dozens of meters deep, was revealed.
At this moment, on the dragon's head that was smashed down, putrid dragon blood still oozed out. Scales were torn, and bones were crushed. At this moment, the black dragon named Fafnir, was severely wounded.
Perhaps, for a true dragon species, this might also be a considerable injury. At the very least, if it continued to fight, its strength would likely be greatly affected.
However, Fafnir was not like that. Even though he possessed the vitality of a dragon species and a solid physique, there was a fundamental difference between him and a true dragon species. He was a spiritual entity.
For a so-called spiritual entity, such an injury was still too insignificant. Even with such a severe injury, the increasingly fierce killing intent flickering in the dragon's eyes gradually dissipated.
Indeed, even so, for a spiritual entity, it was merely a minor inconvenience that could be recovered from at any time.
Even if it meant ignoring his original self.
And at this moment, that was precisely the case.
Fafnir lowly groaned, as if announcing his pain. Then, he once again raised his dragon head, stained with fresh blood, and his incomparably vast, even sky-obscuring dragon wings.
Immediately after, he flapped them again.
Indeed, if they continued to duel on the ground, that massive body would instead be disadvantageous to him. But if he ascended into the sky, he would be in an advantageous position due to the effect of dragon breath.
However, would Gilgamesh allow him to flip around like that?
"Mongrel, do you still intend for this King to look down upon your filthy body?"
Words of disdain spewed from Gilgamesh's mouth, carrying almost infinite killing intent.
Then, he gently raised the bright silver holy sword he held in his hand.
Without the slightest hesitation, he swung it fiercely!
Putrid dragon blood once again splattered. And the shield, named "Heaven's Bull Seven Ring Armor," blocked this fresh blood for Gilgamesh.
Angry screams, mixed with unwilling wails, burst from that gigantic mouth capable of tearing through steel.
This strike severed half of Fafnir's wings.
Indeed, the length of that holy sword was still too slender compared to the giant dragon's body, but it was enough to sever those wings.
"Truly an annoying mongrel. Bow down to this King and die!"
The arrogant words, tinged with mockery, lightly dismissed the severely wounded giant dragon.
However, responding to Gilgamesh was an incomparably sharp fang, capable of piercing gold and jade. It opened its giant mouth towards Gilgamesh without hesitation, as if it could swallow that king with ease.
But Gilgamesh merely curled his lips slightly.
Immediately after, a golden ripple unfurled behind him. Golden light poured down like a torrential rain.
That fierce dragon head was violently smashed open, and even huge bloodstains appeared on it.
However, this alone was absolutely not enough to kill this giant dragon.
Gilgamesh lightly furrowed his brow, as if displeased with something.
Then, faint reddish-brown patterns gradually appeared on his body.
And the giant dragon, still within that precious downpour, groaned unwillingly.
He gently loosened his grip on the "Sword of Blessing of Might" in his hand. The holy sword gently slammed down onto the already pockmarked ground.
Then, at the moment before it struck the ground, it transformed into a speck of golden light and dust. It was meaningless magic power.
And the core treasure itself transformed into a spiritual entity, once again attaching itself to the vermillion magic circuit within the King's treasure.
And the next moment, another holy sword, dripping with the golden liquid from the golden gate, appeared in Gilgamesh's hand.
It was still golden, with an exquisitely shining hilt, and a bright silver blade emanating a holy aura.
This sword was called the Sword of the Tree, also known as the Sword of the Chosen King. At the same time, it also had a more widely known name, Gram.
And the holy sword Gram, which severed countless dragons and serpents, naturally carried an incomparable restraint over the dragon species.
However, this was not enough. Merely this might be able to kill Fafnir.
But Gilgamesh also had no intention of staining himself with that putrid fresh blood and swinging his holy sword dozens of times just to kill this guy.
As a king, he should have his own principles.
This kind of filth was not something he wanted to endure.
Therefore, the reddish-brown patterns entwined on Gilgamesh's body became even more pronounced.
Then, his muscular body seemed to burn. A layer of golden mist enveloped his body, even slightly obscuring his proud countenance.
The aura of kingship emanated from that king's body. It was an authentic aura belonging to dragon blood.
Or perhaps, it was the majesty carried by the heroes who had bathed in dragon blood.
"Not for one's own glory!"
Gilgamesh lightly hummed the true name of the treasure. Then, the faint golden mist gradually dispersed, or perhaps it was because of the user's intent, the king's countenance remained utterly unchanged.
This treasure, which obscured one's identity, was fundamentally incompatible with Gilgamesh. Therefore, due to Gilgamesh's will, this treasure could not be fully unleashed, which meant it could not display its ability to transform one's appearance and posture.
But, this alone was enough.
At least, for killing Fafnir, it was more than enough.
Whether it was his handsome and dignified face, or his muscular yet absolutely not bulky physique, at this moment, they remained completely unchanged.
However, Gilgamesh's body carried an incomparably sharp aura. Only high-level heroic spirits possessed such an aura and a sharp will.
That was the Steel Hero who slew dragons and serpents. His true name, Siegfried!
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