Devouring Dragon Heir - Chapter 66: Ch Conclave of Youth - 2

When a national athlete of China laughs at being able to win a gold medal in video gaming, what a pro-gamer like yourself ought to do is take your size-42 shoe and measure it against his pretty face!

In the world of Kyushu, players full of resentment gathered together, dripped blood as an alliance, and vowed to make the big devil go away.

For a time, all directions responded, the wind was surging, and everyone saw a better tomorrow.

Except for Lubei.

He is the so-called devil.

“Say I’m the devil, blame me for pitting you, I’m an NPC, how could I pit you, that’s how immortals are!”

- Description from novelbuddy

“Success is a shallow foundation built on luck and circumstance. Failure, accumulated and stacked like endless bodies in a mass grave, forges the deepest roots into unshakable power. I know all this about power with surety as all I had were countless failures. After all, I am Vakochev, and I set the very Scales of Existence. This... is my story. Existence, is my Story.”---In the brutal Lands of Stone, where mountains move and beasts devour civilizations whole, power is the only currency that matters.Damian Vakochev was once a prince to a glorious power, but he was stripped of that power, family, and everything he held dear as he was left with a shattered foundation.In an age where tribes war for scraps and Neolithic Empires crush all who oppose them, where ancient beasts roam territories older than memory and Mana flows through the Lands of Stone like blood through veins, where Warriors reinforced by Mana who could go against entire armies and Primal Beasts could devour entire mountains, Damian looks upon it all and asks...why?Who said things had to be the way they were? Who decided what power truly was?Why could he not stand over the tallest mountain and declare exactly what power was as he saw fit?!Why did he have to follow the set path of cultivation? Why were others born with Land and Sky Physiques while he was not? What prevented him setting up his own rules and his own paths?!

Oliver Patrick, the Greatest General in Stormfront's history has a secret - a secret not many know. They think that his Iron WIll was built overnight. They know not the path of suffering he walked, as the slave Beam, to reach his destiny as King, and then Emperor.This is that story. A true story, of progress, struggle, hardship and strength. A story of greatness achieved without a system. A story of how one unknown boy's struggle transformed a continent forever.//ExtractThe arm dropped to the floor, as did the head. Spear points raced past the falling corpse as the goblins sought to take advantage of his momentary lapse in attention. But the tide had already shifted. The equilibrium that had kept the battle going for so long was shattered. With no bruiser to take care of their front lines and distract his attention, the goblins in front of him were no match for his speed.He employed his misdirection as he normally might, feigning the same backwards step that he had practised over and over, before leaping forward, catching the goblin off guard, twisting his body to avoid its spear and forcing his blade into its throat.It let out a high-pitched squeal as it dropped its spear and attempted to stem the tide of blood that was spurting from the wound. The goblin next to it squealed too, in fear this time, as its eyes widened, seeing two of its comrades dealt with so easily in quick succession. Beam saw it take a backwards step, as it attempted to turn and run away. But he was on it before it had a chance. He wrapped his arm around its neck and drove a sword through its back.Rather than let the corpse fall to the floor as he normally might, he held onto this one, enduring its death throes. Once life had finally left its body, he shifted it into place as a meat shield. Two arrows thudded against it, almost piercing it straight through. But the time they reached Beam the momentum was entirely gone – though they touched him, they did not even pierce his clothes.Slowly, with his meat shield in place, Beam advanced on the remaining goblins. They both shared a glance with each other as they dared to fire another volley, before turning on their heels and attempting to sprint away.“Stay,” a brief moment of eye contact, and one of the goblins was rooted in place. Beam tossed his shield aside and picked up a spear instead. With a twist of his hips and shoulder, the spear went soaring, impaling the running goblin straight through its stomach. Its bow fell to the ground, as strength left its hands. It then fell to its knees, before falling face down to the floor, pushing the spear back through itself.