Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 117: Between Storm and Flame

Bel moved like a force of nature, with his draconic form, tearing through the monsters was as easy as cutting butter with a sword.

Above, the sky was in the grip of a blinding blizzard, with thick layers of snow whipped by howling winds.

Bolts of lightning tore jagged paths across the sky, cracking down furiously as the structure trembled beneath the fury of the storm.

Bel swung his claws fiercely, slicing monsters apart effortlessly.

Sometimes he would breathe gigantic flames from his mouth, engulfing waves of enemies.

[Monsters Slain: 2,347/5,000]

He barely had time to breathe as he fought both inside and outside the tower, monsters pouring out from every direction, some even regenerating after being torn apart.

He didn’t care; his body worked on instinct now, hacking them down again and again.

Suddenly, a group of massive bosses fell from high above, hurtling straight toward him with deafening roars.

Bel’s eyes flashed. He adjusted instinctively. He twisted his fist upward, channeling his earth and wind control to manifest them directly into the air.

The air played the role of the ground, and from his earth control, he took the ability to create located earthquakes.

Combining both of them, he created a new form of attack, shaking the space above: a crushing air quake.

The swirling shockwave hit like a hammer, collapsing the wind and smashing the falling monsters violently in the sky, pulverizing them before they even touched the ground.

The tower walls groaned under the sheer force of the impact. frёeωebɳovel.com

[Monsters Slain: 2,512/5,000]

His mind operated like a supercomputer, calculating, predicting, and executing each move efficiently.

Eternal Ice and Abyssal Fire fusing together, creating a deadly storm that froze and burned simultaneously, crumbling enemies into dust as their bodies shattered and disintegrated.

Primordial Drench fused with lightning, forming a massive wave of electrified water that surged across the battlefield, frying anything it touched in a blinding flood of power.

Crushing air quakes that pulverized monsters and the structure of the tower.

[Monsters Slain: 3,120/5,000]

Bel didn’t care about loot drops or rewards.

All that mattered now was testing himself, pushing his mana to its absolute limits, watching to see if his relentless regeneration could outpace his reckless use of energy.

Maybe it was due to the trial’s creatures being adapted to his evolution, but they gave a colossal amount of experience, and with each kill, his strength and his level skyrocketed.

[Level: 91]

He felt unstoppable, invincible.

But still... It wasn’t enough.

For a moment, Bel stood still, eyes locked on the sky above. More monsters were falling, shadows blotting out the stormy light.

Beneath him, the ones he had already torn apart were regenerating, crawling back, snarling, their broken bodies pulling themselves together with unnatural speed.

He was surrounded, between a rock and a hard place.

Everything seemed to slow down. His breathing, the endless storm of snow and sparks. Time itself felt like it paused, just for him.

His fists clenched, his claws sparking.

"I’ve got a ton of mana left," Bel thought calmly, his eyes narrowing. "And plenty of ways to get it back. So why the hell am I holding back?"

His eyes gleamed, sharper than ever.

[ BOLT MODE ]

Lightning ripped through him, crawling along his scales and crackling in the air. His whole body was covered in glowing arcs of blue, and then... everything froze.

Bel grinned, spreading his arms wide. Sparks exploded from his fingertips, and with a flash, he tore straight through the beasts in around him, faster than they could even realize their death.

In a certain part of the capital, the silence was king.

Crest stood firm, standing in front of Sienna and Dusteria. The only sound was the crackling of flames covering the broken walls around them.

And then... footsteps.

Vezalia walked casually through the firelight, her pig skull mask glowing faintly, her long black and purple gown swaying with each lazy step. She looked around with mild amusement.

"Such a mess," she sighed, shaking her head. "Some people just don’t know patience. Always rushing, always pushing to speed things up. And what do you get?" She smiled beneath the mask. "A half-baked disaster. You can’t enjoy a proper meal if you’re too busy shoving it down your throat."

She stopped, tilting her head slightly.

"I must apologize," she added. "Because of all this rushing, even we have no idea how much energy we should really be using. Quite annoying, really."

Crest stepped forward, sword raised now, eyes narrowed. She looked... familiar somehow. He couldn’t place it, but one thing was sure: his instinct screamed danger.

"Who are you?" Crest asked, voice tense. "And what do you want here?"

Vezalia’s smile widened. She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she lazily lifted one hand, purple fire swirling around her fingers.

In a blink, an ornate umbrella appeared, blooming open in her hand as if it had always been there.

Sienna and Dusteria both flinched, stepping back slightly.

"Oh, don’t be so serious," Vezalia teased, resting the umbrella lightly on her shoulder. "I’m not here to ruin your little reunion. Not yet, anyway. I’m just here to confirm something."

She leaned forward a little, voice dropping to a more serious tone.

"What’s your relationship with Lord Ravager?"

Crest’s eyes darted between Vezalia and his two friends, his heart pounding.

What the hell is she talking about?

He gripped his sword tighter, eyeing Dusteria and Sienna, who both looked pale and shaken. Should he attack? Run? His instincts screamed at him that a wrong move here meant death.

A heavy silence stretched between them. The air felt thick, like it could snap at any second.

Crest cleared his throat, trying to buy a few precious seconds.

"Who... who are you, exactly? And what does... Lord Ravager... mean to you?"

Vezalia didn’t move an inch. She just stared at them, still and quiet. Dusteria’s breath hitched; Sienna clutched her sword tighter, her hands trembling.

Crest pressed again, more cautiously this time, voice low.

"Is he the reason you’re attacking us? Is this... Lord... your enemy?"

Still no answer. Vezalia’s mask stayed locked on them, immobile. Then, slowly, she folded her umbrella, the flames around it fizzling out.

She sighed dramatically, almost talking to herself.

"All of this... all of this could have been avoided."

Her tone changed, sharper now, and she raised one finger, eyes gleaming behind the pig skull.

"One last time. And this time... answer me like your lives depend on it. Can you prove, right here and now, that there’s any connection between you and Lord Ravager?"

Crest’s chest tightened. He glanced quickly at Sienna and Dusteria; both were trembling, their faces pale as ghosts.

This... this isn’t going to end well.

He swallowed hard, forcing the words out.

"I don’t know any—"

He froze mid-sentence. She was suddenly right there, inches from his face. He hadn’t even seen her move.

Her voice was soft, almost playful.

"Yeah... I can already tell. There’s nothing special about you."

She tilted her head, her tone slipping into something twisted and sing-songy. "What I really want to know is... could he want you? Would Lord Ravager find you useful? Huh? Does he have some little plan tucked away, a special purple future for you guys?"

She leaned in closer, voice dropping dark.

"Or are you just... as disposable as the other corpses walking around?"

As if on cue, low groans started to rise around them. Crest whipped his head around. Undead. Dozens of them, crawling out of alleyways and broken windows, closing in, circling them like vultures.

His grip tightened on his sword, breath ragged, eyes wide.

This... this was bad.

Crest stepped back, gripping his sword tightly, eyes darting between the circling undead and Vezalia.

If it were just the undead, he could handle it. But with this girl here... there was no way out. He could feel it.

His breath hitched—

Suddenly, a sharp impact split the air.

Vezalia’s body jerked slightly. She lowered her gaze slowly.

A spear had pierced straight through her torso.

"NOW!" someone shouted from behind.

In a rush, adventurers burst onto the scene from the shadows. Among them, Crest immediately spotted Lyraen, her hands raised in front of her face, chanting fast and sharp.

"Light Spirit—bind!" she yelled, and glowing words like chains wrapped around Vezalia’s body, bright and tight, holding her down like glowing ropes.

From behind, more figures appeared, slashing through the undead. Crest’s eyes widened in disbelief—it was the New Horizon members.

Arkel, Ronan, Cassandra... They were all there, weapons drawn, eyes burning with determination.

Ronan charged straight at Vezalia with a roar, leaping up and landing hard on the spear still stuck in her, driving it deeper and pinning her brutally against a crumbling wall.

"Lyraen!" he barked.

The elf’s fingers danced, finishing her next spell.

"Fire Spirits, strike!" she commanded.

A blaze erupted, 3 fiery eagles and 2 wolves burst from the fire, shrieking and diving at Vezalia.

They smashed into her, clawing and biting, a burst of flame lighting up the night as the force of their assault blew apart the wall, sending them and Vezalia crashing back into the building, engulfed in fire.

The flames roared high.

Crest stood frozen, jaw slack, gripping his sword tight as he tried to process what had just happened.

Ronan cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with a cocky grin.

"First rule of New Horizon: we don’t let our bros fight alone."

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