At that very moment—
Velorith had just finished an intimate session when Daloré’s desperate call echoed across the sky. Annoyed, she kicked the handsome NPC in front of her, splattering him into pulp.
Her face cold and detached, Velorith looked up toward the entrance of her chamber, where a silver-armored female knight radiating majesty now stood.
“The fall of the Golden Dragon King Soros marks the end of your era. If you want to survive, I suggest you be smart about it.”
The woman’s voice was calm, but the dragon lance in her hand burned with towering momentum. Even dragon kings would tread lightly in her presence.
Velorith’s expression turned grim. She knew the moment she made a move, she would suffer the wrath of Aetrexa, one of the top ten Dragon Riders in Infinite Dimensions.
“A human… filthy-blooded creature. Spare me the false courtesies. I know I’m next.”
Velorith sneered coldly.
Aetrexa simply smiled faintly, not denying it.
“So tell me… whose orders?”
Velorith chuckled bitterly.
Still silent, Aetrexa only glanced up at the azure sky—implying everything.
Velorith covered her flawless forehead, then laughed again:
“So… we’ve been abandoned?”
Aetrexa tilted her head slightly, the smirk on her lips confirming the truth.
Velorith’s heart sank. The fall of Pondenorlin City, Soros’s death, the failed descent of the Archangel… It had finally drawn the attention of the Holy Kingdom above.
Meanwhile, Orson and his team trailed far behind, not in any rush.
He knew that under normal circumstances, Daloré would easily detect any tracking. But now? Fatally wounded, his mind was focused solely on escape. He didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about anything else.
Using the Mirror of Folding, Orson followed his every move.
Daloré, roaring with fury and despair after realizing no help would come, turned away from the palace and headed southeast—toward the Purple-Gold Royal Manor.
He passed through the perimeter barrier and plunged into the manor’s tallest tower.
“Dummy, break the barrier.”
Orson tossed out a glowing sphere.
“Ohoho! This Dragon Emperor smells treasure again!”
Berenice, his dragon egg companion, cackled before headbutting the barrier.
CRASH!
The ward—boasting over 100 million HP—shattered like glass.
Madman: “Yo what the hell?! That’s how you use dragon eggs?!”
Blank: “That’s not just a dragon egg… it breaks barriers too?”
Orson smiled faintly.
Berenice was special. To her, any barrier below Dragon King-tier was basically paper. And once she hatched, her anti-barrier skills would likely level up again.
After all, she was a hybrid—Holy Light, Darkness, Earth Spirit, and Human bloodlines—all fused into a single Divine Spirit Dragon.
Orson led the group inside. The guards rushed to intercept but were quickly shredded by the seven archmage clones—each a walking artillery battery. Nothing but EXP and loot left behind.
Deep inside the tower, in a sealed underground chamber:
“You’ve returned! I knew you would! I’ve already prepared the sealing ritual!”
Cassandra beamed with joy, seated in the center of a glowing six-pointed star formation, the Crown of Sin on her head. Rare treasures floated around her, and in front of her lay a scroll glowing with violet light.
“Great Ancestor… you… What happened to you?!”
Cassandra froze in horror.
Daloré was drenched in blood, his armor shredded. The mighty Purple-Gold Dragon King was on the verge of collapse.
“So… the cursed Baron really is that powerful…”
She shivered.
“Good thing… even if he returns from death, the burden of his sins will cripple him.”
“I… I was defeated.”
Daloré’s voice trembled.
“But… you’re the undefeated Dragon King!”
Cassandra was stunned.
“The selection of the new Empress is close. The War Supreme Council will convene soon. For the Purple-Gold family, for our bloodline… you must become the Light Dragon Empress!”
Daloré roared.
Cassandra nodded firmly.
Daloré hesitated, then cut his wrist. A few drops of deep violet blood fell onto the scroll.
Radiant light exploded across the tower.
“This scroll now bears the Forbidden Curse: Divine Dragon Seal. Use it to purge the Blood Demon Mark from the Crown of Sin. Once that’s done, Emperor Bairenado will become your puppet.”
“Maybe… I can avoid the Emperor’s trap after all.”
Cassandra’s eyes sparkled.
She had waited far, far too long for this moment.
She would paint the empire violet with glory.
CLAP.
CLAP.
CLAP…
A slow, mocking applause echoed through the chamber.
Both froze.
“Baron… I’ve never wronged you. Why are you doing this?”
Cassandra trembled.
Orson’s smile was almost pitying.
“You’ve got some thick skin, lady…”
Her scheming knew no bounds.
If he didn’t have a thousand contingencies, he’d have been enslaved by her long ago. And she would’ve called it a “blessing.”
“Go! Now!”
Daloré snapped to his senses and summoned his crystal battle axe, turning and blasting a massive hole in the tower wall, ready to cover Cassandra’s retreat with his blood.
“Going somewhere?”
Orson’s grin turned chilling.
Behind him, a man stepped forward—bathed in golden light.
Supreme Soul Disc Clone: GOLDEN.
King’s Authority: Tenfold Gravity.
Daloré and Cassandra both staggered.
Their knees buckled as if something was forcing them to kneel.
“This is Soros’s law…!”
Daloré’s eyes bulged.
The air around them turned dense. Daloré summoned every ounce of dragon strength to resist. But Cassandra—just a Lord-Class NPC—immediately fell to one knee, her Forbidden Curse scroll rolling to the floor.
Sweat poured down her pale face.
“Purple-Gold Guards! Kill him now!”
She shouted in desperation, reaching for the scroll.
The Golden Clone raised its staff.
A torrent of Chaos Magic Balls rained down.
CRIT – 300,000!
Gravity Applied!
CRIT – 280,000!
Gravity Applied!
Gravity Stack +1…
With relentless pressure, Cassandra’s body turned gold.
The twentieth gravity stack landed.
Now under 200% gravity, and subjected to 10x multiplier, she was locked in place—frozen like a golden statue.
The damage wasn’t fatal, but the hidden effect was devastating.
With twenty stacks, the combination with Tenfold Gravity resulted in near-total immobilization.
And each stack would only decay every 20 seconds.
In total, 400 seconds of control. Nearly 7 minutes of being helpless.
“No need for theatrics,” Orson said calmly.
“The cannon fodder here? My friends will clean them up shortly—er, I mean… my companions.”
He corrected himself with a smirk.
“You filthy insect—stop!!”
Daloré roared, charging under gravity’s weight.
Crimson Lizard King stepped forward, obsidian armor gleaming, her bone sword raised.
CLANG!
She intercepted the blow effortlessly.
“Didn’t you want a duel?”
Her cold face twisted into a mocking grin.
“Now’s your chance.”