But Queen Eliza, who was being stared at by him, felt her entire body heat up.
The glances of powerful creatures are sometimes not so different from the gaze of beings much weaker than them.
---
"God?"
On the floating island, the towering giant asked calmly.
"Yes," replied the snow demon Mello respectfully from below the main hall.
"No need to worry about this, Mello. You can lead the 30 million demon army to test the Black Dragon in the Black Wing Lair. I estimate that the strength of that Black Dragon is almost the same as yours. However, you possess the Ice Mark. That Black Dragon most likely won't be your match," Thorn, the Dark Frost Giant Lord, said flatly, his eyes cold.
"If possible, kill it for me."
In the material world of Tal, he is not afraid of gods. Even if he truly cannot defeat them, he will at most retreat.
Is it possible that he would be left behind, along with the blood of the fallen Titan and the floating island?
The only possibility Thorn could imagine for falling in the Tal plane was if the gods ignored the malice of astral consciousness and violently destroyed the Tal plane from outside, causing it to collapse.
Moreover, the entire space of the Tal plane would have to be completely sealed off—otherwise, Thorn could escape at any time.
It was precisely because he believed himself to be nearly invincible in the Tal plane, and the worst-case scenario was simple retreat, that the Dark Frost Giant Lord Thorn was so arrogant and confident.
"Yes." Snow Demon Mello nodded slightly, then turned and left.
Thorn watched the Snow Demon's departing figure, eyes glittering. "Alexrilla, I want to see how long you can endure."
He deliberately slowed the advancement of the floating island, allowing the army of hundreds of millions of demons to follow behind catch up. This was not for Alexrilla specifically. No, more accurately, it was to pressure the top powers of the entire Tal plane.
There's a difference between who resists first and who takes action first.
Thorn's biggest trump card had already been revealed. At this moment, it was using brute strength to suppress Tal. On the other hand, Tal's side might still be hiding trump cards that Thorn knew nothing about.
Therefore, as long as Thorn remained seated on the floating island and steadily advanced the corruption and erosion of the main continent, the first to grow restless would surely be the strong individuals of all races on the Tal side.
It was like outsiders breaking into a home and destroying it while the "people" inside hid in a corner, watching as the invaders continued to dismantle their home, waiting for the right moment to act. That pressure was immense—because destroying is always easier than building.
The anxious ones were the creatures living in this 'home.'
---
Dragon Pond.
A ray of consciousness from me returned from the dead Death Patroller Ogula.
At the same time, due to the death of the fourth-level Death Patroller, all his power—except for his soul—poured into my body, perfectly enhancing it without any loss and pushing my power's upper limit even further.
After a moment, I slowly opened my eyes and stood up from the clam shell. Casually pulling the soft girl in my arms aside, I gently tossed her away. Then I took a step forward, and my five-meter-tall dragon human-like body fused into the void and disappeared.
When I appeared again, I had transformed into a 100-meter-long dragon, floating silently in the sky before the Castle black. My crimson dragon eyes gazed calmly toward the northwest, serene and steady.
It seemed the death of the powerful, legendary, fourth-level subordinate did not evoke the slightest anger in me.
And that was true.
I truly didn't feel anger. On the contrary, I felt sincerely pleased and satisfied.
Had Death Patroller Ogula killed the legendary fourth-level Ice-Winged Demon, then I would have been displeased.
After all, during their fierce battle, the Ice-Winged Demon had been secretly implanted with a Void Seed.
Rather than saying "secretly," it would be more accurate to say the Ice-Winged Demon sensed the Void Seed's infiltration. Once a creature reaches the Legendary level, their ability to sense and control their own body becomes exceptionally sharp, so they can detect most foreign intrusions.
However, after noticing no subsequent abnormalities—and under the intense pressure of the Death Patroller at the time—the Ice-Winged Demon had no choice but to dismiss its concerns and continue the battle.
Originally, he was meant to become a powerful subordinate in the future, yet he was nearly killed by Death Patroller Ogula. That made me, who had been enjoying time with the maids in the dragon pond, darken my face.
I didn't want to impose overly strict restrictions on my subordinates, so I hadn't issued death orders. But now, it seems some laws and orders must still be laid down.
"From now on, no Legendary creature is to be killed without my command. The first priority must always be to plant Void Seeds."
I relayed this order through the Void Channel into the minds of all Void followers, engraving it deeply into their minds.
When it comes to improving one's own strength, it's necessary to be a little stricter.
At that moment, the sky in the distance suddenly darkened.
With my sharp vision, I could clearly see what the blackness was—a massive horde of demons.
Among them, a white-haired human figure floated, a hundred miles away, locking eyes with me.
Snow Demon Mello's gaze was cold, while mine remained calm—so calm that he felt utterly disregarded.
"Hmph!" The Snow Demon snorted, a flash of murderous intent in his eyes.
This Black Dragon was far too arrogant.
"Kill them."
Under the Snow Demon's command, thirty million demons roared as one, their howls shaking the bones of mountains and cracking the surface of frozen lakes. Like a swarm of darkness set aflame by hatred, they surged across the land—blades drawn, wings slicing the air, bloodlust radiating like a storm. Their target: the Black Dragon Familia.
The beast of legend.
The harbinger of dominion.
The devourer of empires.
Yet the one they marched against did not so much as blink.
The Black Dragon Lord stood unmoving like a floating obsidian altar above Castle Black, the mountain winds writhing around his towering, coiled frame. He didn't glance at the oncoming tide. He didn't need to. His red eyes, molten and serene, were locked solely upon one figure standing on the distant ridge—a pale phantom amidst a snowstorm: Snow Demon Mello.
Suddenly—
Two monstrous torrents erupted from below, hidden armies long nestled in the depths of Castle Black and the shadows of Monster City. One surged with flame and steel, demonic beasts clad in armor made from ancient bones and volcanic ore. The other thundered with sky-shaking cries—dragonblood warriors of the Black Winged Families, surging into the fray with ruthless precision, each armed with weapons forged in starlight and death.
The battlefield became a boiling cauldron of carnage.
Steel shattered against claw.
Blood painted the white snow crimson.
Limbs were torn, heads crushed, spells cracked the sky, and the stench of sulfur and scorched flesh turned the air unbreathable. Screams of agony and triumph blended into one eternal war song. The earth trembled beneath the weight of a thousand explosions as Heaven and Hell played chess with mortal lives.
Yet above it all, above the chaos, the Black Dragon Lord and the Snow Demon never moved—locked in a gaze older than war itself.
And then—Mello moved.
The temperature dropped.
It didn't just become cold—it became empty.
The space between molecules screamed in protest. The sound of the world itself fracturing rang out—an eerie, otherworldly crack—as if some ancient god had just drawn its last breath. Reality itself began to freeze.
A shimmering frost of pure law, imperceptible to mortals, spread like veins of death across the battlefield. Soldiers fighting below were turned to glittering ice-statues mid-swing. Infernos were silenced, collapsing under the weight of absolute zero.
It was the same technique that had subdued the mighty Death Patroller Ogula—one of Tal's most feared warriors, a fourth-level Legendary monster, who had once crushed mountain cities underfoot. Even he had been slowed to a crawl—his strength stolen by the very fabric of space freezing around him.
And now, the Black Dragon was the target.
A shell of frost coiled around his immense frame. It bit through the void, embedding law runes deep into every scale. His wings, claws, and tail—each segment of his towering hundred-meter body—were layered with radiant frost, glowing with the brilliance of true, inviolable law.
And still, he didn't move.
He didn't panic. He didn't even scowl.
He simply gazed at the Snow Demon—calm, curious, almost amused.
Mello's eyes narrowed like twin slits of winter steel.
Snow Demon Mello frowned slightly. In its senses, the Black Dragon Lord was obviously frozen by the power of frost that he had comprehended. Why could the other party be so calm?
Was it because he looked down on him?
A hint of coldness flashed through Mello's frosty white pupils, and he moved his hand down gently.
This was no arrogance. This was defiance. No... this was dominion.
"You dare…?" Mello muttered coldly, lifting one hand.
A pulse of glacial power erupted from his fingertips. The clouds parted. A wind howled. And from that above, a Heavenly Blue Sword begins to condensed, its entire form forged from the power of regular frost—a perfect Heavenly Sword!
Then it began to descend like a world ending calamity.
Forged from crystallized law itself, the blade was several hundred meters long, its edge honed upon the screams of dead legends and the silence of frozen stars. It gleamed white-blue, like the teeth of a forgotten moon god. Its mere presence carved scars into the sky.
"Fall," Mello whispered—not a threat, but a sentence.
The blade tore through the heavens, descending with such force that even its shadow carved canyons into the ground. It didn't fall like a sword—it struck like Judgment Day.
And then—
BOOM!!!
A shockwave exploded across the battlefield. A crater hundreds of meters wide yawned open beneath the Black Dragon Lord. Shards of the frost-blade exploded in every direction like frozen shrapnel, cutting down thousands of creatures on both sides.
And yet—
Where the blade met flesh, where the legendary Frost Sky Blade collided with scaled eternity...
There was only a single scar.
A wound—ten centimeters deep.
Not even enough to pierce the second layer of the Black Dragon's scales.
Flesh undisturbed. Bone untouched.
Injured, but not truly injured.
And before Mello's pale eyes, those dark, ancient scales shimmered—and healed.
The injury vanished before it could be mourned.
That was the Radiant Force Field at work—repelling damage from within the soul itself.
That was Super-Speed Recovery (Level 3)—rendering mortal wounds mere inconveniences.
This was the effect of the third-level Super-Speed Recovery, and Radiant Force Field which constantly remains active.
That was dominance incarnate.
"No... that's not possible..." whispered a voice, trembling from a faraway citadel in the east.
And it was not just one.
From across the continent of Tal, through the eyes of artifacts, magical projections, and divine messengers, sages, warlords, and gods-in-hiding watched in awe. Their silence was shattered by a shared scream of disbelief.
"HOW?!?!"
The Snow Demon said nothing.
He stared, the storm inside him raging, churning—his entire attack shrugged off like a raindrop falling on a volcano.
---
Beneath the crushing weight of the deep sea, where sunlight could never reach and pressure warped even the bones of monsters, there existed a grand palace sculpted from coral, gold-veined stone, and luminous pearls the size of a man's head. Within that submerged sanctum of opulence and magic, veiled by illusions and guarded by beasts of forgotten myth, the Naga Royal Palace exuded a decadent majesty. Music composed of singing sirens and drifting whale-song echoed faintly through the gilded arches.
In the heart of that labyrinthine palace, upon a throne of intertwining sapphire serpents and translucent shells, Third Princess Lanna reclined in a slanted position that showed both the authority of royalty and the coiled grace of a temptress. Her long, ocean-blue curls shimmered like liquid silk, cascading past her hips and pooling on the glassy floor like waves of magic. Her skin, pale as moonlit ice, was adorned with intricate silver ornaments and chained pearls, accentuating the gentle rise of her chest and the alluring curvature of her upper body. Her serpentine lower half, covered in overlapping scales of twilight-blue and deep amethyst, flexed lazily as her slender fingers of six hands traced the rim of her pearl-encrusted goblet.
A massive, floating Water Magic Mirror dominated the main hall, its rippling surface flickering with the projected battle above the land—a titanic clash between the Snow Demon Mello and the Black Dragon Lord. As the Frostblade shattered and the Black Dragon's seemingly invincible body shrugged off the attack, Lanna's luscious lips curved upward in a slow, sultry smile.
She turned her gaze to the woman seated on a higher throne—her mother, Queen Beya, the matriarch of the six-armed Naga Empire. The queen's presence was divine, commanding awe. Her own cerulean hair was wreathed in coral and golden vines. Two of her six arms rested elegantly on the arms of her throne, while another gently held a staff of authority that pulsed with primal magic. Her expression was thoughtful, but her intense gaze was fixed on the scene in the mirror.
"Mother," Lanna murmured, her voice a melodious blend of pride and purr, "how about it? I was right."
Queen Beya tilted her regal head ever so slightly. Her beautiful face, though hardened by centuries of ruling, betrayed a flicker of astonishment at the display of power she had just witnessed.
"You said," she began slowly, "you started offering gifts and sending envoys to befriend this Black Dragon Lord more than ten years ago?"
Lanna nodded, a sly glint in her deep sapphire eyes. "Yes, Mother. A quiet investment, made before the rest of the world could see his star rising."
Queen Beya turned to her daughter fully now, her serpentine lower body coiling beneath her throne. "Then I must ask, Lanna. What exactly is the nature of your relationship with him?"
At first, Lanna had intended to answer truthfully—that it was distant, no more than polite diplomacy. But a calculating spark lit in her gaze. Her tongue briefly traced the inner curve of her lips, as if tasting a decision before speaking it aloud.
"Mother," she whispered with a teasing breath, "do you not already know?"
She let the question hang, letting its meaning tantalize.
A subtle blush rose to Queen Beya's cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from understanding the implications. Her brows arched, and she asked softly, "He adores you?"
Lanna's smile deepened like a chasm in the sea. She straightened, her shoulders rolling back, breasts pushing forward as she allowed her elegance to bloom into overt seduction. "He does. I am not merely a diplomatic envoy to him. We share... a deep connection. The kind not easily forgotten."
She had no idea how much of that was true. Perhaps none of it.
But lies, when told by a beauty like her, could become self-fulfilling.
Queen Beya's eyes narrowed. Her motherly instincts were sharp, her political cunning even sharper. But she also understood the power of beauty, especially when wielded like a dagger in court. Slowly, she clapped her hands once, the sound echoing through the throne hall like a gavel passed.
"Then I declare it so," Beya said firmly. "You shall be the next Queen of the Naga Empire, Lanna."
A spark of triumph flashed across Lanna's face, but Beya raised one of her six arms and added coldly, "On one condition—you must bind him to us. Win his allegiance, his protection. The Black Dragon Lord must be tied to the Naga Empire by blood, by love, or by desire."
Lanna's face stilled. Her serpentine coils unwound slightly as she dipped her head, but her voice remained unshaken. "Mother… with all respect, I do not believe he can be bound so easily. He is a dragon who walks his own path, and his ambitions are far beyond Tal's waters or land. He is a being who has tasted godhood and will one day challenge the heavens themselves."
Lanna knew clearly that what she had just said about her close relationship with the Black Dragon Lord, and how much he adored her—was a complete lie.
But once spoken, the lie had to become reality.
She also knew very well that the possibility of persuading the Black Dragon Lord to join their Naga Empire was extremely slim. Over the years of interacting with him, her impression of him was that of a mutant dragon who practiced asceticism. Judging from the actions of his followers, the Black Dragon Lord's personality was clearly domineering.
She didn't believe that a black dragon with such a nature would willingly bow to the Naga Empire.
However, even if she couldn't win him over directly, that wasn't a problem. Lanna could take a more indirect route—by bearing the Black Dragon Lord's heir.
*****
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