"Heh... didn’t think anyone would actually have the guts to barge in here. Let me guess—you’re the Lord of Emerald Castle, aren’t you? Figures. You guys are stronger than I expected." The voice was cold and sharp, like steel dragged across ice. It came from a short, hunched old man. But the aura rolling off him was anything but frail—it was terrifying, suffocating, like standing too close to a collapsing star. In his hand, he held a black staff. Just a flick of it— A wave of pure destruction rippled out, shaking the air. Ethan narrowed his eyes. "So this guy’s from one of the higher tiers of Sky Citadel?" he muttered under his breath. Without hesitation, he cast a detection spell. The results hit him like a punch to the gut. Tier 16. SSS-class Hero Unit. Ethan couldn’t help but think, The weirder the name, the nastier the bastard... He didn’t dare underestimate this one. Taking a slow breath, Ethan let his power rise. His aura surged like a tidal wave, raw energy boiling off him in waves. He was just about to make his move when Sycaron, standing beside him, spoke in a low voice. "My Lord... let me handle this." Ethan blinked, surprised for a second, then nodded. "Alright. Give it a shot—but be careful." Sycaron’s power exploded outward like a volcanic eruption. The blood of dragons roared beneath his scales, and in a flash, he vanished—just a blur of motion—charging straight at Shellgrim. Shellgrim sneered and slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. Dark runes flared to life in the air, weaving together into a massive bird made entirely of energy. Its wings were forged from shadow and lightning, and every beat of those wings sent shockwaves tearing through the sky. The bird shrieked, a piercing, unnatural sound, and dove at Sycaron. Space itself cracked in its wake. But Sycaron didn’t flinch. His eyes were cold, locked on the target. The power of dragonblood surged through him, forming a blazing red aura around his body. With a roar, he slammed into the energy bird head-on. The impact lit up the sky like a second sun. The shockwave ripped outward in all directions, shaking the entire fourth level of Sky Citadel. Walls trembled. Ceilings cracked. The whole place felt like it might come crashing down. At the same time, down below, the mixed legions of Skyfiends and Fiend-Dragons from the upper levels of Sky Citadel surged forward, roaring into battle against the forces of Emerald Castle. The air was thick with blood, fire, and the stench of burning flesh. The battlefield erupted into chaos—screams, explosions, bodies torn apart midair. The sky was filled with drifting chunks of meat and the echo of dying breaths. But Emerald Castle had the upper hand—by far. Their top-tier fighters were monsters in their own right. Ataneya. Feylora. Andona. Even Ethan himself. They were powerhouses. So these Sky Citadel troops? Just cannon fodder. The real fight—the one that mattered—was between Shellgrim and Sycaron. Their powers clashed again and again in the sky, each collision sending shockwaves through the air. Both of them were taking hits, their bodies marked with wounds from the sheer force of their attacks. Sycaron didn’t care. His body had been reforged with the strength of the Adamant Dragons—his flesh was like living armor. The impacts left pale scars across his scales, but nothing serious. Shellgrim, though... he wasn’t so lucky. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by NoveIＦire.net For all his twisted power and freakish defense, he was still flesh and blood. And when two monsters went head-to-head, even he couldn’t walk away unscathed. His robes were torn, his skin split in places, blood seeping through the cracks. And the fight was just getting started. As time dragged on, Shellgrim was clearly losing ground. He stumbled back a few steps, trying to catch his breath, desperation creeping into his movements. With a sudden snap, the dragon wings on his back flared open, blazing light bursting from between the scales. With a single, thunderous flap, a storm of razor-sharp energy blades exploded from his wings, slicing through the air like a torrential downpour. Each blade shimmered like a dragon scale, and every one carried enough force to shred steel. They rained down in a deadly cascade, all aimed straight at Sycaron. "Damn it!" Shellgrim roared, raising his black staff in a panic. A dark barrier flared to life around him, just in time to catch the onslaught. The energy blades slammed into it one after another, sparks flying, the shield warping and trembling under the relentless assault. For a moment, it was like the sky itself was collapsing into a storm of destruction. The deafening roar of explosions filled the air, and Shellgrim’s figure was completely swallowed by the hurricane of blades. Under the relentless barrage, Shellgrim finally cracked. He staggered backward, his body swaying under the pressure, and for the first time—fear flickered in his eyes. "N-No... this can’t be... I’m a high-tier of Sky Citadel—!" He tried to rally, to pull back, to put some distance between them. But Sycaron’s eyes went cold, his voice booming like thunder. "Trying to run now? Too late." His wings snapped open, and the power of his dragonblood erupted like a supernova. The sheer force of it warped the air around him. Every step he took made the very sky tremble. Shellgrim barely managed to lift his staff, trying to summon one last defense— But Sycaron’s claw tore through it like paper. In an instant, Shellgrim was pinned in midair, completely overpowered. "This is my master’s battlefield," Sycaron growled. "And your head... will be the offering." With a roar, he surged forward, his body a streak of crimson-gold light. His claw, wrapped in annihilating force, came down like a divine judgment— Shellgrim’s head was ripped clean off. Blood sprayed in a wide arc, misting the air in a crimson haze. His body, now lifeless, plummeted toward the battlefield below. At that exact moment, the Skyfiend and Fiend-Dragon mixed legions below completely broke. They’d already been struggling under the relentless assault of Emerald Castle’s elite forces. Now, watching their high-tier commander beheaded before their eyes—and feeling the overwhelming pressure of Sycaron’s Celestial Dragon aura—something inside them snapped. Their morale shattered. Ethan seized the moment, his voice cold and sharp: "All units—push forward. Leave no one alive." Ataneya, Feylora, Andona, and the other top-tier warriors surged forward, unleashing a wave of destruction. Explosions rocked the battlefield, and the sky turned red with blood. The enemy forces scattered in panic, their formation collapsing into chaos. Screams and cries of terror filled the air as they were cut down without mercy. Even as Shellgrim’s severed head was still falling, Ethan raised his hand and gave the next order. "Everyone—follow me. We’re taking the fifth level!" Like a tidal wave, the Emerald Castle army surged into the spatial gateway, their killing intent burning like wildfire. But the moment they stepped into the fifth level— The space around them slammed shut like a giant maw snapping closed, swallowing them whole. The air turned heavy, thick like molten lead. Invisible chains locked the space down tight, sealing every direction. Even breathing felt like choking on iron. Ethan’s brow furrowed, a chill creeping down his spine. This pressure... unmistakable. It was the power of Sky Citadel’s upper echelon. He’d felt it before, faintly, from afar—but this? This was on a whole different level. Suddenly, light flared. A dozen angelic figures emerged from the void, their bodies wrapped in golden radiance. Wings of light unfurled behind them, etched with glowing runes that pulsed with divine energy. The pressure they exuded was suffocating, like standing before a divine tribunal. At the front stood a middle-aged man, his steps slow and deliberate, each one landing like a hammer on the heart. He raised a gleaming holy sword, its blade crackling with power strong enough to tear space apart. He sneered. "Didn’t expect a bunch of lowborn invaders to make it this far. Impressive... but pointless. You’ve come this far—now you stay." Another angelic warrior stepped forward, voice like ice. "The Highlord has spoken—slaughter them." Before the words even finished echoing, the holy sword came down in a flash of blinding light, a blade of judgment screaming straight for Ethan’s face. In that instant, Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. A wave of death surged toward him, more real than anything he’d ever felt. Is this it? Is this where I die? A dragon’s roar shattered the heavens. The ground split open beneath them, and Sycaron burst forth, leading the Celestial Dragon army in a blazing ascent. Crimson-gold dragonfire surged across the battlefield, slamming into the angelic forces midair. The holy light clashed with dragonflame, detonating in a storm of raw destruction. The sky tore open. The air itself ignited. And as the reinforcements arrived, the rest of Emerald Castle’s army poured into the fifth level behind them.