The atmosphere in the cavern grew suffocatingly tense. Lisa, trembling as she watched the lone figure in white, whispered to her comrades, "Is he insane? If the highest-ranked S-Rank in the kingdom was dismantled that easily, what chance does he have? I know he's been hiding his energy, but even at his peak, he should be nothing compared to a King."
In the blink of an eye, both figures vanished.
The gathered S-Ranks couldn't even track their silhouettes as the two began clashing. The impact of their fists meeting sent out a series of shockwaves so potent they pulverized the remaining crystals and sent the adventurers sprawling. Realizing the danger, four shield-specialists surged forward, combining their mana to create a massive barrier to protect the group. Behind them, the healers worked feverishly, pumping stamina into the shield-bearers to keep the dome from shattering under the sheer pressure of the combat.
Leon countered a flurry of strikes with a sudden, heavy punch to the King's jaw, sending the royal monster crashing into the cavern wall. The King responded instantly, launching himself back with incomprehensible speed, but Leon tilted his head at the last micro-second. He countered again—a lightning-fast kick that launched the King toward the ceiling. Before the beast could recover, Leon teleported above him, delivering a downward strike that sent the King crashing into the far end of the cave.
"Is... is he truly an S-Rank?" Lisa muttered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "S-Ranks don't move like that. They can't move like that."
Azreal, leaning against a rock as a healer desperately mended his internal injuries, watched through a haze of pain and shame. That guy... there's no way. Is he a hidden Legend? Even seven Legendary Ranks would struggle to hold their own against a Dragon King... but one man is making it look like a fair fight? He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of his own hubris crushing him. He had stood against the King only because he believed the myths were exaggerated—that a newborn King would be weak. His ignorance had almost cost everyone their lives, and now the one man he had treated with such disdain was the only thing standing between them and extinction.
You truly are a fool, Azreal, he thought, drowning in disappointment.
The King pulled himself from the rubble, his expression shifting. He wasn't angry; he was impressed. This was the clash he had been born for. A predatory smile spread across his face as he stretched his hand toward Leon, attempting to seize him with the same telekinetic grip he had used to break the Captain.
But the invisible force hit Leon like water hitting a stone. The telekinesis had no effect. Leon didn't even slow down; he casually walked toward the King as if the air weren't screaming with murderous intent.
Shock finally flickered in the King's crimson eyes. He lifted a finger, and four sun-bright spheres of flame manifested in the air, radiating enough heat to melt the cave walls. He pointed them at Leon, but Leon merely stretched out his own hand in response. Four massive torrents of water erupted from the void, intercepting the flames mid-air.
The elements clashed with a deafening roar, dissolving into a thick, blinding shroud of steam that filled the entire chamber.
Both figures began to walk toward one another, the rhythmic thud of their footsteps the only sound in the suffocating silence. Smiles mirrored on their faces—one born of ancient hunger, the other of calm satisfaction.
Suddenly, the world fractured.
They both vanished, and what followed was a clash of titans so violent the resulting shockwave totally obliterated the steam in the air, clearing the chamber in a single pulse. Lightning began to spiral out from their meeting fists, arcing across the cavern as they traded blows that defied physics. The ground began to quake heavily, stone splitting into deep fissures, while lightning strikes scorched every corner of the cave. The pressure was so immense that even the combined shield of the four S-Rank specialists began to spiderweb with cracks.
"I know the Dragon King is a monster," Azreal muttered, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and awe, "but who the hell is that man?"
The King leaped backward, his wings snapping tight as he lifted his hands toward the jagged ceiling. A black void began to form between his palms—a literal black hole that warped light and matter alike. With a guttural roar, he launched the singularity toward Leon.
Leon didn't flinch. He stood his ground and manifested an arrow of pure, shimmering white energy. He loosed the projectile directly into the heart of the void; upon contact, the white light expanded, and the clash of opposing forces was totally nullified, leaving nothing but a faint hum in the air.
The King stood stunned. Out of his seven innate skills, Fire Manipulation, Gravity Manipulation, and Telekinesis had all proved to be no match for the stranger in white. He had clearly underestimated the man before him, but in that moment of realization, the King felt a surge of pure excitement.
The Black Dragon Kings were blessed with the Circle of Reincarnation, retaining the memories of every past life. He remembered the eras of higher glory when he had evolved and traded blows with the legendary ranks of old. For centuries, he had missed the thrill of a true challenge, and now, he could finally go all out. Someone worthy had finally been born in this era.
The King laughed aloud, his ancient boredom finally cured. With a sharp snap of his fingers, the world turned gray and the falling dust suspended in mid-air. Time itself had frozen. The King, too, was a master of Time Manipulation.
The entire cave fell into a haunting, gray stillness. Every S-Rank adventurer stood like a statue, frozen in the middle of a breath as the Dragon King walked slowly toward Leon. A cruel smile played on the King's lips; he drew out his obsidian claws, relishing the sight of Leon trapped in a single spot. Even a hero of this caliber, he believed, could be shackled by the laws of Time.
As soon as he reached Leon, he lunged, striking with the full force of his claws. But to his absolute horror, Leon's hand moved—a blur of white in a frozen world—and caught the strike mid-air. Leon's eyes shifted, locking onto the Dragon King's gaze with terrifying clarity.
"Do you truly think stopping time would stop me?"
The question left the King in a state of pure shock. Even the flow of time was no match for the man in white. The King launched himself backward in a panic, and as he did, the world snapped back to life. Time began again, and the S-Rank party remained completely oblivious; to them, not even a millisecond had passed. None of them knew the King had even attempted to control the clock.
The King paused for a moment, his expression shifting into one of deep, analytical curiosity. He knew for a fact that every human in this world possessed a single innate skill; he knew of the legends of the Primordial Skills. But something wasn't adding up. The man in white possessed a variety of skills and a level of strength that went beyond the boundaries of men. Something was fundamentally "off" about the opponent in front of him, and the King realized that if he allowed the fight to drag on any longer, he would inevitably lose.
"Well then," the King began, his voice dropping into a guttural, ancient register. "Let's get serious."
The S-Ranks watched in confusion and growing dread. They found it impossible to believe that, after everything they had witnessed, the King had still been holding back.
The King stretched his arms forward. The cave went silent, the air growing heavy with a divine, suffocating pressure as he began his final chant:
"The King commands, the legion answers;
The Black Dragons dance to the King's whispers.
As his will demands, the Dragon conquers;
Behold the King of Dragons..."
"Soul Palace: The Parade of the Immortal Dragons!"