I am the Demon King of the Dungeon!

"Hehehe, let's go then."

The Deep Sea Witch's vertical pupils lit up for a moment.

She spread her arms, her pale fingertips glowing faintly at the edge of the crack, and dark blue veins throbbing rapidly beneath her bluish skin, blood flowing faster.

"Let me die completely."

"etc."

The Deep Sea Witch's arm froze in mid-air.

"Let's break the seal first." Arthas pointed to Perion inside the crystal. "How do I know if the seal will automatically break if you're dead? If it gets stuck, my men will have to stay inside for who knows how long."

"Primordial Dragon God, are you questioning my credibility?"

"I question your ability to execute orders," Arthas said without changing his expression. "I simply cannot trust you."

There was a moment of silence in the crevice.

"...Alright." The Deep Sea Witch tapped her fingers lightly in the air, a hint of reluctance flashing in her dark blue pupils, like the reluctance of a severe procrastinator being urged to do work before resting.

She touched the surface of the crystal with her finger, and a ripple spread out inside the black crystal. Dark blue light emerged from the cracks and slowly diffused inside the crystal.

Where the light passed, the black crystals gradually began to fade, turning from pitch black to dark gray, then from dark gray to light gray, and finally becoming transparent.

Pirian's figure became clearer and clearer.

"Alright." The Deep Sea Witch withdrew her finger, gave a small yawn, and said, "Your little sandworm is free."

Arthas looked at the crystal, which had indeed become transparent, but Perion remained sealed inside, motionless.

"No change."

"Just a moment." The Deep Sea Witch yawned again. "It will take some time for the seal to be broken."

"how long?"

"About several decades."

"..."

The desert winds have stopped.

Arthas stared at the Deep Sea Witch's face, a face so sincere it was almost unbearable, and remained silent for three breaths. After those three breaths, he became certain of one thing: this legendary monster who had lived for thousands of years didn't have procrastination issues; she simply didn't want to work.

No wonder the Niflåm Abyss was conquered.

This boss is even more laid-back than me...

"You're playing me."

"I don't."

"Are you going to solve it or not?" Arthas's voice remained calm, but the desert sun suddenly dimmed for a moment.

"The Primordial Dragon God." The Deep Sea Witch's voice was no longer languid, but rather like the friction of two dark currents meeting in the deep sea. "Are you threatening me?"

"This is not a threat, this is an ultimatum."

"it is good."

The dark blue light in the crack suddenly surged.

Dark blue light burst forth from the fissures like an underwater volcanic eruption, carrying the salty, fishy smell of the abyss thousands of meters deep. The light shot into the desert sky, turning the entire dune valley into a deep blue.

The crystal shattered in the light.

It wasn't the gentle reopening of the previous lockdown; it was a violent rupture, with fragments scattering and turning into translucent specks of light in mid-air before being swallowed by the dark blue waves.

Pirian's figure fell from the crystal and landed on the sand, motionless, though her chest was still rising and falling slightly, her eyes remained closed.

Arthas did not look at Perion; his gaze was fixed on the depths of the rift.

As the Deep Sea Witch emerges from the rift, her form solidifies with each step she takes.

The seaweed wrapped around the wrist was the first to materialize, with dark green leaves swaying slowly in the air, followed by the arm, shoulder, long hair, and finally the face.

When she finally emerged from the rift, it remained open, like a wound leading to the deep sea, from which a continuous stream of dark blue light poured into her body.

"The Primordial Dragon God." The Deep Sea Witch's voice deepened, each word carrying a deafening echo, "Do you know why I'm too lazy to move?"

"..."

"Because once you start moving, you can't stop."

The Deep Sea Witch raised her right hand, fingers spread, palm facing upward. Dark blue light gathered in her palm, transforming from a point of light into a sphere, then into a pillar of light. The pillar of light shot into the sky, exploded above the desert, and transformed into countless fine raindrops that fell down.

With each drop of rain falling on the sand, the sand grains were pressed down an inch. When millions of raindrops fell at the same time, the entire sand dune valley began to collapse.

The sand grains were compressed more and more tightly, turning from golden to deep yellow, and from deep yellow to dark brown.

Arthas stood still, raindrops falling on his shoulders like a gentle touch of a finger—neither painful nor itchy. But the surrounding desert had been compressed to a depth of three feet, and he stood in the center of the depression, like a lone island.

The voice of the Deep Sea Witch came from the rain curtain, "The pressure from the deepest part of the Niflough Abyss, eleven thousand meters below the seabed, the weight that every inch of your skin bears is equivalent to turning a mountain upside down and pressing down on you."

She took a step forward, and the raindrops became denser with each step.

"I lived in that place for 30,000 years. For 30,000 years I remained motionless, neither breathing nor opening my eyes. Because if I moved, I would be crushed. I evolved my body into a form that could withstand that kind of pressure. The density of my muscles is seven hundred times that of steel, the hollow structure of my bones can disperse force from any direction, and the dark blood in my veins is not blood, but a liquid pressure buffer layer."

The Deep Sea Witch stopped and looked at Arthas.

"Boris was able to cut open my heart not because he was strong, but because I hadn't moved in too long. My body had forgotten how to fight, but now—"

She looked down at her hands; beneath her pale skin, dark blue veins were glowing, and inky blood was surging through them, making a sound like waves crashing on the shore.

"You remind me of something."

As soon as she finished speaking, the Deep Sea Witch vanished from the spot.

It's not teleportation.

It's too fast for the naked eye to capture.

Arthas's vertical pupils contracted slightly as he caught sight of the Deep Sea Witch's figure leaving a dark blue afterimage in the rain, charging straight at him from the front.

Pull your right arm back, bring your five fingers together, and unfold the webbed membranes at your fingertips as you move at high speed, like a small sail.

The Deep Sea Witch's fighting style is devoid of any fancy moves. Thousands of years of living in the deep sea have taught her only one thing: under extreme pressure, concentrate your power on the smallest possible point.

Her fingertips pierced Arthas's chest.

Arthas did not dodge.

He raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the Deep Sea Witch's fingertips.

Fingertips collide with palms.

No sound.

Because the sound doesn't have time to travel.

The air around the point of impact was instantly pushed aside, forming a vacuum sphere several meters in diameter. The sand grains inside the vacuum sphere were pulverized by the shock wave, and before the powder could fly away, it was pressed into glassy crystals by a secondary impact.

The sphere spreads outward, flattening the dunes in its path, vaporizing the sand grains, and leaving a perfect ring-shaped depression on the ground.

The Deep Sea Witch placed her fingertips against the center of Arthas's palm, and tiny white dots appeared on the jet-black dragon scales.

"Is it blocked?"

A hint of surprise flashed in the Deep Sea Witch's vertical pupils.