Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 227: The Curse, Never, Death
In the instant the scythe was swung, countless thoughts raced through Wu Chen's mind. He saw his success, and he saw his failure. He saw the scene of his painstaking efforts ultimately falling short, and he also saw the result of overcoming all difficulties and finally seizing success.

The world before him was divided into countless lines, and within each line, there was a scene of Duneville fighting Wuchen in different forms—there was Duneville using attacking dragon roars to meet the attack, Duneville using illusions or whirlwind energy to dodge, Duneville summoning thousands of undead to use as human shields. There were even Dunevilles who gave up the fight and simply turned and fled.

They are all genuine Dunnevilles.

In Wu Chen's eyes, the existence of the Mondas dragon species was thus clearly revealed—dragons are fragments of time, branches of countless paths. They exist in the stable present, while simultaneously traversing countless unstable parallel worldlines. And if one wants to completely defeat an ancient legendary dragon like Duneville, then all its possible branches must be wiped out in a single blow.

This is the power of God.

This scythe can only succeed if, at the moment of its swing, it presents an equal number of branches of fate as possible to Dunneville.

However, if not, if even one possible timeline of Duneville manages to successfully defend or dodge this attack, then all parallel branches will instantly collapse into the one most advantageous to it, followed by the counterattack and retaliation of this immortal Nether Dragon.

It's terrible.

The possible branches of destruction became clear to Wu Chen—he realized that he was indeed a paper tiger with an inflated level due to too many temporary buffs. Even if he could observe all the possible branches at this moment, and even make different responses to those branches he directly observed, his interference computing power was far from sufficient to adjust all of them before him.

Dunevel, who spews dragonfire, slices through the dragonfire and then strikes at its head.

Dunneville, having unleashed his ethereal form, simultaneously uses etherealization and continues fighting in the void.

Using necromancers as human shields, Duneville forcefully broke through the defenses with his martial arts and then hacked his way through.

Meanwhile, the swift and agile Dunneville used just as many consecutive teleportations as he did until the pursuit succeeded.

He did it; he successfully defeated Dunneville in four possible branches. But what does it matter? The possible branches that arise from the dragon's temporal nature are far more than four hundred, four thousand, or even four hundred thousand.
—I can't do it.

Wu Chen realized with a sigh that he had no choice but to accept the undeniable fact that even the Dragonborn could not completely defeat Duneville, who was indeed not an opponent he could win against using such a clever, snowballing method. The possibility of completely defeating the formidable enemy before him was confirmed to be zero. Therefore, all he could do next was to settle for second best.

—Open the Elder Scrolls.

He opened the Elder Scrolls.

From within the Elder Scroll, the powerful strike that Dunneville had forcefully unleashed just moments before, breaking through the dimensional barrier, was unleashed out of thin air as the scroll opened. This power, originating from the same source as Dunneville but interfered with by the Elder Scroll itself, then, through countless possible branches, precisely struck Dunneville!
Dunneville was indeed an extremely powerful ancient legendary dragon.

However, the projection of Duneville is an ancient legendary dragon without a true soul!
It lacks intelligence; its infinite branching capabilities are merely passive effects. It doesn't possess the corresponding combat intelligence of its true form. And this shared power, in Wu Chen's scythe strike, successfully struck the Undying Nether Dragon with deadly accuracy!

‘Boom—! ’

All possible branches are merged into one.

All destiny and future converged into a single, heavy slash and a powerful, yet not entirely fatal, combination of scythe strikes—he successfully struck Dunneville's hull, but not enough to inflict a fatal wound. And in his hand, there was no more bargaining chip to play in the next round.

He thus gained the initiative only once. In this brief period of control, however brief, he could not possibly achieve the final victory.

Even if the whole world is watching him at this moment, all of humanity... the collective that represents all of humanity, witnessing in this instant that the war scythe in his hand cuts a huge gash in the body of the Nether Dragon—they are expectant, they are fearful, they cheer, they stare wide-eyed—but for Wu Chen at this moment, there is only one thing he can do.

So he raised his hand.

Amidst all the monitors, all the sensor probes, and the records of many strange intelligence measures, he raised his hand toward the 'severely injured' dragon.

“Exile,” he said.

The power of will and divine energy drove this spell.

It can be called a miracle spell equivalent to a wish-granting spell, or it can be called extraordinary divine power—the power to make one's wishes come true. And whatever this power projected from his hands may be called, at this moment, it has achieved tangible results.

Dunneville's final resting place is the Soul Tomb.

A vast and illusory portal appeared behind the dragon under Wu Chen's magic—the idealists who had invested in Wu Chen trembled slightly, their crystalline bodies emitting joyful shrieks. They hadn't expected their investment to yield such a swift return, and having made a pact with the dragon, they immediately took action.

"Roar—" The dark dragon struggled and writhed.

In an instant, it repaired its body and dispelled the banishment spell. It used its massive wings and claws to trap the spacetime vortex that had appeared behind it. Perhaps all it needed was a chance to escape this trap designed specifically for it!

It almost succeeded—and its almost was almost—before Wu Chen could react, hundreds or thousands of radiant tentacles sprang out from behind the door, becoming the final straw that dragged the immortal dragon of the underworld into the netherworld.

Unable to escape, all it could do in the end was to let out a roar at Wu Chen.

"Dur-Neh-Viir!" The dragon's roar echoed through the heavens.

This is its declaration, and also its last stand.

It lacked intelligence and could not possibly grant Wu Chen the recognition one would show as a fellow warrior. Yet, even so, it knew that only by relying on Wu Chen could it possibly escape the prison known as the Soul Tomb.

Curse, never, death.

On the back of Wu Chen's hand, a dark scale emblem appeared beside the two scales bestowed upon him by Milmenir.

Dragon Roar, learned.

And that was the end of the battle.

(End of this chapter)