The titan-dragon hybrid spread its ashen-gray wings, its lifeless eyes locked onto its target. Though it lacked the raw power of the Crimson Lizard King, it far outclassed it in speed, slicing through the air like a phantom windstorm.
The four-winged monstrosity carried Odin forward like a streak of gray lightning, chasing Orson with relentless fury.
“Let’s see you run now, you mongrel!” Odin bellowed, laughter laced with vengeful rage.
Orson glanced behind him and felt his heart sink.
A towering War Tree loomed ahead, blocking his escape route.
It had once been a mighty war engine, boasting a staggering 900 million HP, but now—burnt and withered from the Cursed Fiend’s devastation—it was a crippled husk of its former self.
Yet, even in its weakened state, it remained a force of destruction.
The War Tree trembled, and in the next instant—
Its emerald leaves morphed into jagged spikes, a living swarm of spears blotting out half the sky.
Simultaneously, vines whipped forward from every direction, cutting through the air with enough force to shred solid rock.
There was no way through.
A single misstep, and both he and the Crimson Lizard King would be torn apart in the crossfire.
But—
“Who said I was running?” Orson smirked coldly.
“Besides…” He glanced at Odin, his voice carrying a chilling edge. “I’m not even the main act.”
Without warning, Orson yanked the Crimson Lizard King into a sharp turn, racing directly toward Odin instead of fleeing.
Odin blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
Then, he sneered.
“Still putting up a farce, human? Face the judgment of the Dwarven Emperor!”
[Ashen Battle Art – Thunder Spirit!]
The arcane runes etched into Odin’s skin flared an electric blue.
Above, storm clouds churned, lightning crackling across the heavens as countless bolts plunged downward, fusing into his blade of fire and thunder.
Flames roared. Thunder shrieked.
The sky itself trembled as Odin thrust his sword forward—
And in an instant—
A titanic elemental war boar, wreathed in lightning and fire, charged straight for Orson with a deafening boom.
At the same time, the War Tree marched forward, each step shaking the battlefield, its monstrous vines and spears closing in from behind.
Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
Odin gazed down at Orson like a god passing judgment upon an insect.
“Your time is up.”
But—
Orson only smiled.
“Frost Domain Ring.”
A chill spread through the air as Orson raised his hand, a shimmering blue aura rippling outward.
In the next instant—
A wave of ice crystals surged forth, coiling around Odin’s arms like a freezing prison.
Odin snorted.
“You think such a petty trick can stop me?”
With a single flex, his overwhelming resistance shattered the ice instantly, sending shards scattering into the air.
Orson laughed softly.
“You resist well, I’ll give you that.”
Then, his gaze darkened.
“But your mount? Not so much.”
Odin’s expression froze.
Before he could react—
His winged dragon convulsed mid-air, its limbs locking up as ice overtook its body.
Its wings froze stiff, its body plummeting uncontrollably toward the ground.
Odin wobbled, unable to steady himself—
His spellcasting cut off abruptly.
Boom!
-500,000 (Crash Damage)!
Dust exploded outward as Odin slammed into the earth, embedding himself in a deep crater.
Lying flat on his back, he glared up at Orson with venomous fury.
A mortal. A mere adventurer—had actually forced him down.
“…I underestimated you, adventurer.”
Odin’s lips twisted into a grin, cold and cruel.
“But make no mistake… you have nowhere left to run.”
He started to push himself up—
But suddenly—
A massive, clawed hand burst from the ground, seizing Odin’s ankle in an iron grip.
“What—?!”
Odin’s eyes bulged as he felt an unrelenting force clamp down, straining his titanic strength to the limit.
He gritted his teeth, veins bulging as he tried to break free—
To no avail.
“What manner of beast dares interfere with me?!”
Odin roared, thrusting his blade downward at the unseen enemy beneath the soil.
But—
Another hand erupted from the ground.
And this one snatched his wrist mid-strike, halting his sword dead in its tracks.
Odin’s face contorted in shock.
On the arm that held him, a network of intricate, snake-like runes glowed, weaving across powerful, sinewy flesh—
Runes of the Grandmaster Forgers.
And then—
A cold, merciless voice echoed from below.
“I am the first Demon God—born from the very depths of Infinite Dimensions itself.”
Odin’s entire body stiffened.
His mind reeled in horror.
Then—
The earth exploded.
A colossal figure rose from the soil.
A towering titan of muscle, with long, wild gray hair cascading down his back, his beard stretching past his knees, thick and feral like an ancient beast.
His skin was like stone, wrapped in ten writhing tendrils of power, a manifestation of the generations of Grey Dwarven Kings before him—a fusion of Titan heritage and the deepest mysteries of the dwarven bloodline.
Odin’s breath hitched.
For the first time—he felt small.
“You’ve lost this war, Odin.”
Veijander’s voice was calm, almost… disappointed.
Like an elder chastising a foolish child.
“I built the Dwarven Kingdom,” Odin spat, his voice thunderous with rage.
“I am the supreme Ashen King!”
“And you, Veijander, are nothing but a traitor.”
He thrashed wildly, his veins bulging, his body surging with raw power—
And yet—
The titan’s grip did not falter.
Veijander lifted him effortlessly, like a child hoisting a doll.
Odin gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Veijander studied him.
“You, the great Grey Dwarven King…” he murmured.
“You’re so much weaker than I imagined.”
He tilted his head, his black eyes devoid of mercy.
“If you could be crowned king…”
“Then why not me?”
“Veijander…!!!”
Odin’s howl was deafening—
Before his arms were ripped apart like paper.
Above, Orson hovered high in the air, eyes narrowed.
“…He’s lost control, hasn’t he?”
He checked the status screen.
[Demon God – The Betrayer Veijander]
Level: 90 King-Level Lifeform HP: 1.2 billion Attack Power: 75,000 Skills: King’s Authority, Grandmaster Berserker Mastery, Titan Body Domination, Divine Forging
“Strange… The Battle Bro Contract and Master-Servant Contract are still intact.”
Orson’s gaze darkened.
“He didn’t lose control… He ascended.”
And then—
His eyes landed on Veijander’s newest ability.
[King’s Authority – Veijander’s Bargain]
Effect 1: If any dwarf rejects a deal proposed by Veijander, their stats permanently drop by 10–90%. Effect 2: Against dwarven enemies, all critical hits now deal +10% true damage.
Orson’s lips parted.
“Rejecting him means… a permanent stat loss?”