Chapter 844: Dragon Blood Tribe’s Ancestor
A heavy silence blanketed the battlefield as Vrasha struck Kaelrath down with a single decisive blow, her blade slicing through his so-called legendary armor as if it were nothing.
Her sword carved through the thick plates as though they were paper, cleaving his chest open in one swift strike. Kaelrath collapsed lifelessly to the ground, his reign ending in an instant.
"Hmph! Did you really think a piece of armor could save you from me? Don’t be ridiculous."
Vrasha snorted coldly, swinging her sword to fling off the blood before turning her gaze toward Kaelrath’s corpse.
’Father... Mother... finally, I’ve avenged you with Kaelrath’s death...’ A single tear slid down Vrasha’s cheek as she closed her eyes, her lips curling into a relieved smile.
Meanwhile, both the Dragon Blood Tribe and the Ogre Tribe stood frozen in shock.
None could believe what they had just witnessed—Kaelrath, cut down so easily. His legendary armor, said to be unbreakable, had been torn apart as if it were nothing more than soft butter beneath Vrasha’s blade.
"T-The leader... he’s dead?!"
"O-Our leader is dead! H-He was killed by that bitch!"
"Kill her! Avenge our leader! ATTACK!"
The remaining warriors of the Dragon Blood Tribe roared in rage, snapping from their stupor. Weapons raised, their eyes burned with fury as they charged at Vrasha without hesitation, their Mana exploding as they resolved to overwhelm her.
But just as they rushed forward, the battlefield shuddered under an overwhelming pressure.
A suffocating presence descended from above, heavy and crushing, like a ghost emerging from the depths of endless darkness.
From the top of Crimsonfang Peak, a lone male figure stood, his gaze fixed on Kaelrath’s blood-soaked corpse below.
"What a pity... to die at the hands of such a loathsome creature. And worse still—by a woman. Truly, Kaelrath, you are an embarrassment to our great tribe."
His voice rumbled like thunder, each word dripping with disdain. Wrinkles lined his face as his contemptuous glare turned toward Vrasha. His Mana erupted in a violent surge, trembling the very air with its might.
Suddenly, every warrior of the Dragon Blood Tribe dropped to their knees and bowed their heads before the imposing presence that had appeared on the battlefield.
"We greet the Ancestor!" the tribe shouted in unison, kneeling to show respect to the ancestor who had remained nearby for nearly two hundred years.
"You lot have greatly disappointed me in battle... You can’t even stand against a pack of ugly creatures, and you dare call yourselves descendants of a dragon?!" the Ancestor thundered, his voice heavy with contempt and anger.
"This is ridiculous! Completely unacceptable!" he spat, his words rippling through Crimsonfang Peak. Mana surged through him as he amplified his voice, making every corner of the stronghold hear his rebuke.
Meanwhile, Yuan and his wives hovered high above the clouds, their presence undetectable—void of any visible Mana, they blended seamlessly with the sky and the air around them.
"So this is the mysterious ’Ancestor’ of the Dragon Blood Tribe... He looks powerful for a mere mortal," Xi Meili muttered, her face twisting with disdain at the Ancestor’s words.
"Despite that trace of Dragon Blood in his veins, he’s unbearably arrogant... as expected from the lineage of an overgrown lizard," Fang Xiaoyan snorted, a mocking grin on her lips as she glanced at Xi Meili.
Xi Meili’s eyes narrowed at Fang Xiaoyan’s insult; she clenched her fists, the expression on her face hardening instantly.
"Calm down, you two. Remember—we’re a family," Yuan said with a soft chuckle as he drifted closer, pulling both of them into a reassuring embrace.
With a small, confident grin, he whispered, "Let’s see what this fool does now... his strength is about that of a mid-level Spirit Master."
"A Spirit Master?!" Leah exclaimed, alarm tinting her voice. "Wouldn’t Vrasha be in danger?"
Yuan smiled and soothed her fears. "Don’t worry. Mireya is with Vrasha—she can kill him in the blink of an eye."
"I see... I almost forgot about her. Right—since Mireya is with Vrasha, I’m not worried anymore." Leah finally exhaled, a relieved smile softening her face.
Meanwhile, Mireya fixed her gaze on the figure calling himself the ’Ancestor’ of the Dragon Blood Tribe, the very man whom the entire tribe revered with absolute respect.
’So this is the so-called Ancestor...’ Mireya thought, her expression hardening. ’No wonder the Dragon Blood Tribe reeks of arrogance. With someone of his caliber backing them, it’s only natural they became so conceited.’
But the truth was cruel—this Ancestor was no match for her. He might be able to pressure Vrasha due to her lower cultivation, but Mireya knew Vrasha’s resilience.
Vrasha wasn’t ordinary. She possessed a powerful physique, sharp instincts, and a warrior’s will. Killing her wouldn’t be easy, even for the Ancestor.
"Heh! So you’re the famous Ancestor of the Dragon Blood Tribe... I’ve heard plenty about you," Vrasha said with a wide grin, locking eyes with him.
There was no fear in her voice, no despair in her gaze—only thrill. Defeating Kaelrath had been far too easy, almost boring. To her, it was like swatting down a child flailing with a toy sword.
But this man standing at the peak was different. His aura screamed of strength, his presence weighed heavy with decades of battle experience. Stronger than her? Perhaps. But retreat had never been Vrasha’s way.
’I wonder how his strikes will feel when our blades clash...’ Vrasha thought with rising excitement, her grip tightening on her sword.
"Silence! You have no right to address me!" the Ancestor snapped, his eyes dripping with disdain.
"A filthy gray-skinned creature like you isn’t worthy of speaking to one of noble blood! Be gone, vermin!" he roared, thrusting his hand forward.
In the blink of an eye, a magic circle materialized in the air. A storm of lightning burst forth, crackling and hissing as the sky trembled.
Zzzap! Zzzap! Thunder roared violently, the storm growing fiercer as the Ancestor poured more and more Mana into his spell.
"Divine Judgment Thunder..." the Ancestor muttered with a low groan, his eyes brimming with disdain as he looked upon Vrasha and the Ogres. With a wave of his hand, he unleashed the storm.
"Die the most horrible death you can imagine..." he sneered under his breath as bolts of thunder tore through the air, descending toward the Ogres.
"Hmph! Don’t get so arrogant, you bastard! You have no idea who you’re looking down on!" Vrasha roared furiously, gripping her sword with both hands.
The blade began to tremble violently as she poured her Qi into it. In an instant, the weapon seemed to awaken, its surface glowing with a blinding crimson light. Heat erupted outward, so intense it made the air shimmer.
The sudden wave of scorching power left everyone stunned. None had ever imagined Vrasha capable of wielding such terrifying strength.
Slash! As her sword cleaved through the air, a sharp metallic ring resounded—and the Ancestor’s thunder spell shattered in an instant.
Whoosh! A searing hot wind swept across the battlefield, burning against skin and nearly scorching the clothes of everyone caught within its reach.
’Since when did Vrasha acquire such overwhelming power?! She’s... incredible!’ Malgar thought in shock, his eyes glued to her figure.
And he wasn’t alone. Even the Ancestor himself faltered, disbelief flickering in his gaze as he realized how easily Vrasha had torn apart his magic with a single swing of her sword.
’This female ogre... she is strong. Brave, too. It seems I made a mistake by looking down on her...’ the Ancestor admitted to himself, surprise flickering across his face at the unexpected turn.
Mireya, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, suddenly vanished from sight. In the next instant, she appeared beside Vrasha like a phantom, her sudden presence startling the Ancestor even more.
’What in the—?! Where did this woman come from? I didn’t even sense her approach!’ His thoughts screamed in disbelief.
His eyes narrowed sharply as he studied Mireya more closely. Recognition struck him like lightning—his eyes widened once more, his mind reeling.
’Wait... she’s an elf? Why is an elf siding with Ogres? Their kind has never allied with outsiders... What in the world is going on here?!’
"What is an elf like you doing in this battle?" the Ancestor demanded coldly, his voice carrying to all. "This doesn’t concern you. Step aside now while I am being polite—or else your entire race will suffer the consequences of your choice."
The words dripped with arrogance and threat. Mireya’s expression immediately hardened, fury blazing in her eyes as she clenched her fists to restrain her rage.
"Are you threatening me?" she asked icily, her gaze piercing him without a trace of fear.
The Ancestor chuckled darkly. "And if I am? What will you do—kill me?"
"Of course..." Mireya replied without hesitation. Her lips curved into a wide, dangerous grin.
"Is that so? Am I supposed to cower in fear right now? Hahaha!" The Ancestor laughed mockingly, as though he had just heard the funniest jest of his life.
But mid-laugh, Mireya’s figure vanished again, reappearing behind him like a ghost in the night.
"Do my words look like a joke to you?" she whispered coldly, her voice carrying the chill of death itself. The Ancestor of the Dragon Blood Tribe stiffened instantly, his heart skipping a beat.