As he was falling down like a shooting star, Arnold could only see thousands of pieces of the destroyed moon falling down as he was reaching the ground at rapid speeds.
It felt like his life flashed before his eyes for a second, envisioning how he was going to be cut down.
He mentally pulled up the system, about to check how much of the Ascension Pill’s internal energy he had left and if it was a good idea to use more Aether—
* System updated!
* Patch notes: Due to your mastery of your racial skills, [Dragon’s Descent – Lightning] has unlocked its own skill tree, branching out the possible skills performed that originate from this skill.
* The [Lightning] element will apply to all skills in the [Tree] but Aether itself can be used in its raw form for a higher attack power at the cost of a cooldown or it can be used with the [Water] element, which you are the most accustomed to.
* Derived skill – [Lightning Named Ancestor]
‘I unlocked a different skill...?’
Since it mentioned “racial skills” this must be related to his dragon soul. But isn’t this development happening too quickly? The dragon soul is still within his real body, and not enough time has passed to test whether his regenerative abilities function without it in the clone’s body. Maybe the two aren’t mutually exclusive—perhaps he can still use his racial skills even without the dragon soul. Well, this is already confirmed by his earlier attacks and the system itself…
But the speed at which he unlocked it was still strange. What changed exactly?
As if the system waited for that question, it supplied an answer:
* Patch notes: The dragon soul you inherited has already mastered all its racial skills and with the addition of the {250%} growth rate supplied by the [Ascension Pill] you consumed into your core; a few uses will unlock the skills in order. You can use these skills even without the dragon soul since you are not exactly human, but half-human half-dragon which had influenced your own soul.
* Take note: Most of these skills can only be used with Aether as your aura reserves simply lack the power needed to fuel these powerful skills.
‘A few uses are all it takes to unlock the skills…’
As expected of the [Ascension Pill]. Its growth rate application to all classes is insane. He shouldn’t use too much of the internal energy provided by the pill, though.
That doctor who came up with this divine item was truly a genius. Of course, a divine beast was slain to make it so he felt a little bitter.
The process to making and consuming it was quick but its effects will last on his soul for a lifetime. Well, that’s if he doesn’t burn its internal energy out first.
Forcing out more Aether, he used the skill while Guinevere was fast approaching. She wouldn’t be able to dodge while in mid-air and would have to choose to take the hit or turn around and destroy the skill. Once she decides to do the latter, Arnold will be right there ready to attack her from the back with everything he had.
Once she’s weakened (hopefully), he’ll be able to immobilize her through sealing her acupuncture points temporarily.
[Lightning – Named Ancestor] has been activated, he heard the system announce.
A ferocious roar, that echoed across the entire world, came from the sky.
[Choose the dragon ancestor you’ll summon through elemental manifestation].
He didn’t have time to think so he just yelled the only name he could think of.
‘Dragon God!’
He thought of the strongest ancestor he knew. Of course, he had no clue if the skill will actually summon the Dragon God. Every skill has a limit to what it can do even if it gives freedom of choice.
At that moment, it felt like the world itself trembled. A mysterious power kept both him and Guinevere stuck in mid-air. The falling heavenly bodies were no different, as they remained suspended in mid-air. It felt like a powerful force was overpowering the world’s gravity.
At that moment, a gigantic head poked through the atmosphere, its head the size of probably this entire continent. It looked so real up close but Arnold knew the Dragon God was killed long ago.
‘Is that… the actual Dragon God…?’
He had his doubts since he was certain it was killed a thousand years ago. its grave became a dungeon, which was known as the biggest dungeon ever recorded in history.
What he was seeing wasn’t a mere hologram or an undead dragon, but a perfect replica of the “God of Dragons” since it resembled the Dragon God perfectly.
It had completely white scales and sky-blue eyes that watched the two of them with interest.
An unfamiliar but powerful voice echoed across the world, a voice that only Arnold could understand.
-[So, you are the one who He picked to inherit the seventh throne.]
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…
-[I am not disappointed by my child’s successor at all. In fact, I am proud of what you will achieve, for I have seen your future.]
A gentle, motherly voice entered his ears. It was odd how a being—who was once on the level of the Star Beast—had this beautiful voice, a divine voice.
-[Though this may not happen as I hope it would, please try to get along with my children once you succeed the throne as the next King.]
Her head went back into space, before a beam of white destruction cackled in the sky and rained down on the world, destroying the asteroids and pieces of the moon in the process.
The gigantic lightning bolt—which had the shape of a dragon reaching probably 10km or even longer in length—missed them by an inch but it destroyed an entire mountain range below, and carved out the ground like a knife through butter. It was evident from that how powerful this skill truly is.
He was harnessing but a fraction of the Dragon God’s true power.
Before Arnold could fully grasp the magnitude of the destruction, another bolt of divine destruction came hurtling down from the heavens, the sky darkening as the atmosphere screamed in protest. It was headed straight for them. There was no conceivable way to dodge in mid-air.
In a blink of an eye, both Arnold and Guinevere were swallowed up by the skill.
**
Three more colossal bolts of lightning tore through the sky, each one a spear of raw energy that descended with the fury of the heavens. The destruction that ensued was utterly devastating, being on a scale that none of this world’s inhabitants had ever seen or felt.
Amidst the chaos, fear rippled through the hearts of the people like a contagious plague. The cause of this catastrophe remained shrouded in mystery, but whispers spread like wildfire. The goddess who had slain the monsters beyond the wall—could it be she was now engaged in battle with an unspeakable evil? Hope and dread intertwined in the minds of the survivors, and as one, they fell to their knees, their prayers rising like a chorus to the heavens.…
…
In the epicenter of one of the massive craters, Guinevere knelt, her body a silhouette against the smoldering landscape. Her once powerful red eyes were now dull, her gaze unfocused as if the very life had been drained from her. Her arms hung limply at her sides, weighed down by the immense burden of her failure. Every breath she took was a ragged gasp, each one searing her throat like a furnace of despair.
Though her senses had been dulled by the catastrophic attack, something deeper within her stirred. She could feel the prayers of the people, their desperate cries for salvation reaching her like faint whispers carried on the wind. Each plea was a reminder of the vow she had taken, the promise to protect these souls at any cost.
‘That’s right… They believe in me.’
Despite the overwhelming odds, despite the unbearable pain and the crushing weight of her exhaustion, they still believed in her. They still saw her as their savior.
-Fight for us…
-Please protect us…
-Save us from this evil…
Tears welled up in her eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer magnitude of the responsibility she bore. She had been their shield, their sword, their hope. And now, in this moment of despair, she had to become something more—something greater than even the gods could comprehend.
A golden light suddenly bathed Guinevere in warmth. She slowly lifted her head to see where the light was coming from.
Her hair flickered between natural blood-red and pure gold strands as the light touched her touched her skin.
It felt so nice. It felt like a mother’s caress as she held onto her infant child. Like a lover’s kiss. Like a smile from the one whose life you saved.
Guinevere could see it—a small Gardtree growing upside-down, its roots digging into the clouds above, filling the pure white clouds with a rot that poisoned it with a dark energy, which slowly spread.
Unlike its glorious divine form from before, this “avatar” of the Gardtree was the definition of dread itself. Though its leaves were pure gold, the bark and branches were completely black, as if a black hole had manifested into a tree somehow, to the point where no light can touch it.
it gently shook, allowing its golden essence to rain on to the world.
That warm sensation grew even hotter in Guinevere’s body. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation, but noticed that the warmth was trying to bring out the power that lay dormant in her core.
She had vowed to never use this power against mortals. It was meant to be used against true terrors—absolute evils, like the “Abyss” she killed with her own hands using this power.
But in the face of this evil, using a small percentage of her true power might be the only way to win quickly without destroying the whole world in the process.
“….” The "avatar" was gone when Guinevere blinked.
She looked ahead at the evil she had been trying to vanquish as it approached.
It was clear her opponent wasn’t faring much better than she was. One of her arms was charred beyond recognition, blackened flesh barely clinging to exposed bone, and a chunk of her torso was torn away, revealing the stark white of ribs glistening with blood. Yet, despite the grievous injuries, her resolve remained unbroken. She moved with a purpose, each step shaky but driven by sheer will. The pain was etched on her face, but so was her unwavering determination.
With a labored breath, she stood before Guinevere once more.
“I’ll crush your acupuncture points… just in case,” she said, her voice a whisper of both desperation and grim focus. Her remaining hand—small, trembling, yet still a force that had once devastated a moon—reached forward.
Before her hand could make contact, a deafening shockwave erupted from Guinevere, sending her opponent stumbling back. Guinevere’s body responded in kind. The sickening crack of bones realigning filled the air, and her once-battered skin began to glow, returning to its pristine, radiant pale white. The golden aura around her flared, growing brighter, more potent, until it bathed the entire battlefield in a celestial light. Every wound, every scar, every trace of damage she had suffered was erased, as though time itself had bent to her divine will.
Guinevere’s eyes met her opponent’s—wide, trembling pupils staring back at her, mouth agape in disbelief. The fear, shock, and helplessness in that gaze was unmistakable.
Unable to bear the sight of her opponent’s broken state any longer, she closed her eyes, hoping to shut out the overwhelming tide of emotion threatening to overtake her.
‘Forgive me.’
With quiet resolve, Guinevere raised her arm. Her pure, divine energy surged, pushing away the stormy gray clouds that had cast shadows over the world. As the clouds parted, the sun’s warm, comforting light flooded the battlefield once more, a stark contrast to the devastation surrounding them. It was as if the very essence of life was returning to a world on the brink of ruin.
She lowered her arm with deliberate slowness, summoning her Spirit Sword in a shimmer of radiant light. The blade materialized in her hand, its form almost too pure for the mortal eye to comprehend. Guinevere’s crimson eyes locked onto her opponent, the tip of her sword following suit, pointing directly at the weakened warrior before her.
Though a gaping hole remained in Guinevere’s chest—its edges pulsing with a dark energy that threatened to consume her from within—she ignored it. Unlike before, the wound was slowly unraveling her body, but it didn’t matter now. She had made her choice.
“I was careless earlier,” Guinevere declared, her voice calm yet echoing with divine authority. “But that will never happen again. I promise you this: I shall cut you down, and with a single strike, I will rid your soul of the evil that clings to it.”
Her grip on the Spirit Sword tightened, the air crackling with the intensity of her power, sounding like a stormy wind during a disaster. “My sword will not draw blood twice.”