Chapter 429
The well-being and survival of his people were what mattered most. He had even entertained the idea of gaining stronger vampires through this battle. Unfortunately, that hope was quickly dashed—the Zealots’ blood was tainted, repulsive to his kind, and unfit for consumption.
High above the battlefield, a massive creature blended seamlessly with the night, its piercing gaze fixed on the clash below. The enormous figure of Roth stood amidst the chaos, but unlike the other demigods, he seemed to require no assistance.
Ebonwrath, the black dragon, watched with growing interest. The longer he observed Roth, the more he liked him. His selfishness, his decisiveness—these were qualities that resonated deeply with the dragon.
Unfortunately, duty called. He had to assist the demigods, for the safety of billions—and for the safety of the dragons themselves. If the pillar was not placed soon, the wrath of the gods’ counterparts would inevitably turn toward them. Their actions had already drawn divine attention, and the consequences would be severe.
Yet, Roth faced a dilemma. If he was to focus on the goal, he needed someone strong to safeguard his people. And Ebonwrath just so happened to be that someone.
With that thought, the dragon let out a thunderous roar, its echo rolling across the battlefield.
To his intrigue, the demigod was not surprised by his presence. Instead, Roth simply nodded in acknowledgment before decisively pulling back the thick smoke. Lifting the heavy Rune Pillar onto his shoulders, he turned away, striding toward his objective.
His actions made one thing clear—he was leaving the rest to Ebonwrath.
Ebonwrath, his scales shimmering like obsidian in the dim light of the battlefield, descended with a thunderous beat of his massive wings. The air crackled with raw power as he landed amidst the disorganized Zealots, the force of his landing sending tremors through the ground and scattering the already disoriented cultists. He didn’t bother with a breath weapon, not at first. Instead, he moved with a surprising agility for his size, his claws raking through the Zealot ranks, each swipe leaving behind shattered bones and torn flesh. The Zealots, still reeling from the disorienting mist and the sudden appearance of the colossal dragon, could offer little resistance. Their distorted light, so potent against vampires, was useless against Ebonwrath’s thick scales.
One Zealot, larger than the rest and radiating a particularly intense distorted light, attempted to challenge the dragon. It lunged forward, its form flickering and warping, trying to bite at Ebonwrath’s leg. The dragon, however, simply sidestepped the clumsy attack and with a swift flick of his tail, sent the Zealot crashing into a nearby rock formation. The impact shattered the rock and left the Zealot groaning, its distorted light flickering erratically.
Ebonwrath then unleashed his breath weapon. a torrent of pure acid. The acid engulfed the remaining Zealots, chilling them to the bone and further disrupting their already fractured perception. Their cries of terror echoed through the battlefield as the acid constricted around them, crushing the air from their lungs. The distorted light that emanated from them was snuffed out, leaving only the faintest glimmer within the oppressive thick acid.