Elven cultivators

who is it?

Morales's expression changed slightly. He felt a tightness in the back of his neck, as if two invisible sharp blades were pressing against his vitals at the same time.

Locking down these two mental forces gave him an unprecedented sense of threat.

Who exactly is this person?

Just as Morales was filled with doubt and uncertainty, a dark shadow suddenly tore through the clouds at the horizon behind the undead army, rushing towards them like a meteor falling to earth.

boom!

The air was torn open by the rapidly moving airflow, leaving a narrow white streak, and the air waves rolled out in all directions.

Almost in the blink of an eye, a massive, suffocating dragon body appeared before Morais.

A terrifying dragon's might instantly swept out, filling every inch of space within a hundred miles.

Morales felt his body sink, and the surrounding air solidified like molten iron, pressing in from all directions, making his bones creak, and even causing a brief stagnation in the flow of the laws around him.

But in the next instant, an invisible, sharp aura suddenly emerged from the other side, cleaving through the surrounding pressure and annihilating it.

Morales immediately felt a sense of relief. But he felt no joy whatsoever.

He slowly turned his head, looked at the imposing dragon on his left, and then at the elf who had appeared silently on his right. His face turned ashen.

Come to think of it, the only threats he feels in this area right now are the Nether Dragon King and that Meteor Dragon Sword Saint.

He never expected that he would be noticed by both the Underworld Dragon King and Anton as soon as he made his move.

This is just too bad luck.

The King of the Underworld glanced at Anton, the soul flame in his eye sockets flickering as if flashing with a cold light, before looking at Morais, scrutinizing him for a moment.

"Who are you? I've never heard of a demigod like you on the Dawn Continent."

"Moreover, despite being a demigod, your methods for concealing the operation of the power of laws are extremely crude. How did someone like you ignite the seed of divinity?"

Anton's eyes flickered slightly as he looked at Morais thoughtfully.

He vaguely guessed what had happened.

The guy in front of me was clearly a lucky one who had accidentally obtained a fragment of a god and managed to fuse with it.

Although he gained immense power as a result, since it wasn't cultivated through his own efforts, his control over that power was naturally quite crude. Judging from the power of the laws he sensed earlier, this person likely possessed the laws of the soul, belonging to the mysterious category of intermediate-level laws.

The Law of the Soul... Could it be the later Soul Eater's Throat?

This was a notorious and fierce god from the age of gods.

An extremely evil god who has devoured countless races and powerful beings.

How did he end up here?

Anton probably caused another butterfly effect himself.

He glanced at the Nether Dragon King without making a sound, and another question flashed through his mind.

Judging from what the Underworld Dragon King just said, he seems to know nothing about the fragments of godhood.

The fragments of divine power clearly came from the Abyss.

So... does the Black Emperor know about the fragments of godhood?

The Dark Dragon King's undisguised contemptuous words infuriated Morales.

But he also knew very well that neither the Nether Dragon King nor Anton were the weaklings he had slaughtered at will before. One was a notorious undead lord, and the other was an unfathomable elven swordsman. He had no chance of winning against either of them alone.

The wisest choice right now is to leave as soon as possible.

It's not too late for him to avenge the humiliation he suffered today once he has condensed his divine essence and become a true god.

Morales suppressed the surging anger in his chest, took a breath, and forced a smile, saying, "Gentlemen, I was just curious about this war, so I came to take a look. I don't intend to get involved, nor do I have any intention of opposing you. I'll be leaving now."

Morales' heart sank, and he subconsciously looked at Anton.

The latter remained indifferent, not even raising an eyebrow.

The King of the Underworld turned his head and slightly raised his chin in Anton's direction: "This guy is my prey. We'll settle our score after I've dealt with him."

Anton replied calmly, "Please do as you wish."

Morales's expression changed drastically: "You...!"

Before he could finish speaking, the King of the Underworld interrupted him without any politeness.

"Anyone who dares to lay a hand on my army will pay the price." The moment the last word was uttered, an overwhelming dragon's might once again enveloped Morais.

At the same time, the Dark Dragon King's claws, enveloped in a heavy gray light, tore through the air and slammed down on him.

Morales felt his hair stand on end, and his body moved before his thoughts could process, transforming into a gray shadow and rushing to the side.

But the claws fell faster than he expected, and the gray light they carried seeped into his armor the instant they brushed past his shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the piece of armor touched by the gray light was turning gray, drying out, and cracking at a speed visible to the naked eye, like a piece of iron that had been eroded by the years, peeling off in a rustling sound.

Morales' heart sank.

His armor was a top-tier, ancient-grade magical equipment, a rare piece of armor even on the continent, yet it was mostly destroyed by a single, casual strike from his opponent.

The Dark Dragon King gave him no chance to catch his breath. The second attack followed immediately, sweeping from the side. Wherever the claws passed, fine cracks, as thin as spider silk, appeared in the air.

Morales' heart tightened, and he dared not hold back any longer. His body shone with gray light, transforming into dozens of twisted humanoid phantoms that hissed as they pounced toward the Underworld Dragon King.

Those phantoms were battle servants he had forged from the souls he devoured. They possessed the characteristics of ethereal bodies and could directly attack the souls of his enemies.

However, the King of the Underworld simply exhaled a heavy cloud of gray mist, and the phantoms within it vanished silently, like moths drawn to a flame.

Dragon's Breath. [De] [Qi] [Xiao] [Shuo] [Wang] [Hand-typed] [Update]

Morales's expression changed.

Another claw slammed down from above, slamming him from the air and crashing him to the ground.

He barely managed to steady himself in mid-air, but the Dark Dragon King's attack followed closely behind, and the dragon breath containing the aura of decay and decay completely engulfed him.

In an instant, Morales felt the power of the soul laws enveloping his body dissipate as rapidly as rocks weathering away.

He had to release his soul servants again to break through the dragon's breath and escape.

Pain and fear surged into Morales' heart at the same time.

He then truly realized that the gap between himself and these real demigods was far greater than he had imagined.

He possessed immense strength, yet he couldn't even keep up with his opponent's rhythm, let alone launch a counterattack.

His prized soul-devouring ability was utterly ineffective against the resilient soul of the Underworld Dragon King.

The soul servants, painstakingly forged, were annihilated like snowflakes in boiling water under the claws of the Underworld Dragon King, posing no threat whatsoever.

The battle was completely one-sided. Anton stood at a distance, calmly watching the fight.

Compared to the Soul Eater who would become a ruthless and powerful figure centuries later, feared even by the gods, Morales before him was far too naive.

Neither his control over the power of laws nor his fighting spirit could match the power he possessed.

On the other hand, the Nether Dragon King, as a high-ranking undead, is an expert in manipulating souls.

When Morales's soul laws clashed with his, the threat was reduced to some extent.

Not to mention that the Underworld Dragon King wields the Law of Withering, which, like the Law of Soul, is a mid-level law, but belongs to the category of nature.

In terms of legal hierarchy, it is in no way inferior.

Its precision in control far surpasses that of other systems.

The current overwhelming situation was entirely expected.

In fact, most intelligent beings who obtain fragments of divinity will face the problem of forcing growth in the early stages.

A rational person who obtains this power will choose to lie low, silently digest the power, familiarize themselves with the laws, and only show themselves when they are truly powerful.

The undead calamity was the perfect opportunity for these 'quasi-gods' to develop. At this time, the entire continent was busy dealing with the undead and had no energy to pay attention to them. Most people didn't even know that the fragments of their divine essence had been scattered.

They have plenty of time to develop and grow.

By the time the Scourge ended and the major powers began to take notice of them, they already possessed enough power to calmly establish their own forces.

Those who don't know how to bide their time and are eager to jump out and show their presence rarely live long enough to truly grow.

In the original history, Morales was the former.

But now, a single wrong decision has turned him into the latter.

The future Soul Eater's Maw will likely perish prematurely.

that's the truth.

Every counterattack from Morais was easily neutralized by the Dark Dragon King, while Morais's own injuries multiplied and his aura gradually weakened.

He couldn't even escape.

The Dark Dragon King was faster than him, and every time he tried to create distance, the withering gray light would cling to him like a persistent leech.

Finally, a gray light pierced through Morales' chest. His body stiffened abruptly, and the light in his pupils flickered a few times like a candle in the wind before going out completely.

The body, suspended in mid-air, lost its support and fell downwards.

The King of the Underworld opened his mouth and inhaled, an invisible suction force pulling Morais's corpse into his stomach.

The next moment, his aura surged, the gray light around him suddenly became denser, and even the surrounding air currents paused slightly.

"Hahaha!"

The King of the Underworld laughed wildly, his gray-white flames in his eye sockets pulsating violently, like two ignited stars, radiating dazzling light.

He turned his head, his gaze returning to Anton, his vertical pupils filled with surging killing intent and arrogance.

"Your turn next."

"Speaking of which, I have to thank you for letting me have this guy. I've had a feast, and I feel stronger than ever before."

Absorbing the life essence of others to strengthen one's power is one of the innate abilities of high-ranking undead.

The King of the Underworld was no exception.

Although Morais, this demigod-level powerhouse, was largely overrated, he was still a demigod and excellent nourishment. Even before he had fully digested it, it had already significantly boosted his strength.

Once fully digested, it might break through and become a critical being.

Anton remained calm upon hearing this.

He wasn't one of those guys who only had a superficial understanding of the undead. He knew from the beginning what the Underworld Dragon King was up to, but he also had his own plans, so he just went along with it.

"Didn't the Black Emperor tell you that you can't eat just anything?"