Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

A demonic, pale arm suddenly emerged from the bottom of the pool!

That hand was deathly pale, as white as a deep-sea creature that had never seen the sun.

The fingers are long and slender with distinct joints, and the nails of each finger are bluish-black and sharp like claws.

Dark red lines were wrapped around his wrist, slowly wriggling under his skin as if something alive was swimming in his veins.

He braced his palm against the jade at the bottom of the pool, and with a burst of strength from his finger bones, his dark blue claws sank deep into the jade.

A second hand also reached out.

The back of the hand was covered with sparse scales, but there were large, torn marks, revealing the grayish-white skin underneath that was slowly bleeding.

The edges of the wound still bore charred burn marks, like an old wound that had not healed after being pierced by some kind of extreme yang power.

Then come the shoulders, torso, and head.

The figure slowly rose from the bottom of the pool, each movement carrying a languid quality of just waking up.

It's as if I've been asleep for far too long, and I need to gradually readjust to this body.

The moment he stood up straight, all the luminous pearls in the hall dimmed for a moment.

It wasn't that the figure was deliberately exerting pressure; it was merely the aura that inadvertently escaped from the body the moment it awoke that caused the light to retreat.

It was a humanoid creature that was over two meters tall.

His skin was a grayish-white color, somewhere between that of a human and some kind of scaly creature.

Her cheeks and bare shoulders were covered with fine scales, the edges of which gleamed with a cold, bluish-black luster.

His hair was a dull silver, reaching his waist and cascading down his back, with faint, dark red, electric snake-like patterns shimmering among the strands.

The figure wore a half-armor covering its forehead and left eye, and the surface of the armor was engraved with dragon patterns identical to those on the carapace of the Turtle Prime Minister's remains.

His right eye, which was exposed, was a golden vertical pupil.

Those golden vertical pupils held a ferocity that had been brewing for millennia.

Deep within his pupils lay a yearning for battle and the strong.

Those vertical pupils slowly swept over everyone present.

"All you powerful warriors! Come and fight me..."

A profound and obscure language emanated from the figure's abdomen.

Lu Mingfei and the others couldn't understand his language, but they accurately obtained the information in it.

A massive, dark black scythe leaped out from beneath the remains of the Turtle Prime Minister and landed in the figure's hand.

Caesar's back stiffened instantly, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

His dragon blood, as a hybrid, was emitting a mournful cry. He seemed to see the four ancient dragon monarchs roaring amidst the ashes and ruins of human civilization!

"Gulp... What is this?!" Chen Motong's body trembled uncontrollably. Her reason told her that she should run away at this moment.

But the dragon blood within her was filled with fear and boiling within her.

Chu Zihang's expression was solemn. He recalled the forbidden technique, Bloodlust, that he had learned from documents within the Lionheart Society.

Facing an opponent of this caliber, without repeatedly unleashing their bloodlust, the hybrid might not even have the right to stand before that figure.

Fingel had now activated the Word of Power: Bronze Throne to its fullest extent, transforming himself into a bronze statue.

He shielded Lu Mingfei behind him, but his mind was filled with Norma's old smile.

"Lu Mingfei," Fingel said in a low voice.

"Run!"

"This level of dragon blood resonance."

"This is very likely a newly revived, unknown first-generation dragon king."

But Lu Mingfei's performance surprised Finger.

He pressed his hand to his forehead in frustration and near collapse.

Looking at Old Tang again, his face twitched unnaturally as he looked on in surprise.

"Senior Brother Fingel! I understand the principles..." Lu Mingfei said weakly.

"But the shape of this thing!"

"He looks so much like Orochi, the Serpent Demon, from the Dynasty Warriors game series!"

"That look! That sickle! That aura! That dialogue!"

"They're practically identical!"

"The Dragon King who built this Dragon Palace ruins! Was he a game-obsessed dragon?!"

Shen Jue carried the energy weapon alone. Seeing the tense looks on everyone's faces, he smiled faintly and said, "Very likely."

"Brother Shen, please don't be a broken record." Lu Mingfei squatted down on the ground and grabbed his hair with his hands.

The dragon blood within him was also stirring.

For the first time, Lu Mingfei experienced a resonance with his bloodline, and the spirit of the dragon blood within him gradually rose.

The illusion and Lu Mingze's figure flickered before his eyes.

"Escape? We have nowhere to escape," Caesar muttered in Italian.

Caesar, Chu Zihang, and Fingel exchanged a glance, and in silence, they reached a tactical consensus.

Fingel moved.

The fully opened body of the Word of Power Bronze Throne crashed through the air, each step leaving deep dents in the jade floor.

His arms were crossed over his chest, his bronze skin gleamed with a metallic sheen, and he was like a cannonball that had been fired, crashing straight into the two-meter-tall gray-white figure.

Without any probing, Fingel went all out.

To test Orochi, who is suspected of having awakened the First Generation, would be tantamount to suicide.

Orochi tilted his head slightly, and Fingel's figure was reflected in his golden vertical pupil.

Then Orochi raised his left hand, fingers spread, palm facing the charging Finger.

Fingel bumped into that hand.

boom!

The shockwave exploded from the point of contact, shattering the jade slabs on the floor of the main hall into pieces, with fragments flying everywhere like shrapnel.

Fingel's forward momentum was abruptly halted.

His feet dug furrows in the ground, and an incredulous expression appeared on his bronze face.

This high-blooded hybrid who activated the Bronze Throne couldn't budge Orochi in the slightest; on the contrary, Orochi easily seized him.

Orochi's pale fingers with five bluish-black fingernails gripped Fingel's bronze-skinned fist like iron clamps.

The scales rubbed against the bronze throne, producing a piercing shriek.

"The weak."

Two obscure syllables rolled out from Orochi's abdomen.

He swung Fingel around and lifted him up.

Fingel, who was nearly two meters tall, was lifted up with one hand, arced through the air, and slammed hard into the ground.

Fingel's back shattered the jade floor, the bronze color instantly fading, and a mouthful of blood spurted from his mouth, staining his chest red.

Fingel attacked, but activated his super armor to withstand the attack, and Fingel was unable to retaliate.

With one hand, he could smash Fingel, who had activated the Word of Power: Bronze Throne to its limit, into the ground like a rag.

Everyone was terrified by Orochi's power.

But Fingel's charge was not without effect.

The hunting knife, Dirk, flashed behind Orochi.

Caesar emerged from the shadows, his hunting knife gleaming.

The Word Spirit Kamaitachi had already instilled all the information about the battlefield into his mind.

He chose the moment when Orochi swung Fingel.

At this moment, Orochi exhausted his strength, his center of gravity shifted, and an opening appeared in his defense.

Dictator's blade slashed towards the gap in the scales on Orochi's nape.

That was the sparsest part of Orochi's scales.

Caesar had honed this strike into an instinct through countless battles.

Precise, ruthless, and deadly—that's Caesar.

When the blade was still three inches from its target, Orochi's long silver hair suddenly stood on end.

Dark red electric snakes suddenly lit up between his hair, weaving into a dense electric net.

Dick slashed at the electric grid, where dark red lightning collided and exploded into a blinding burst of flames.

Caesar's hand was split open, the hunting knife nearly slipped from his grasp, and he was thrown back by the recoil, tumbling two and a half times in the air before barely landing.

His right arm was numb, his fingertips were trembling, and he felt weak all over.

"Support players shouldn't be greedy for kills."

Chu Zihang's voice came from the front.

He was already standing directly in front of Orochi.

The sword was drawn, and Chu Zihang's calm face was reflected on its blade.

His pupils had changed color; his undying golden eyes burned in the darkness, and a molten radiance overflowed from the depths of his eyes.

A sudden burst of blood.