Dragon Tribulation of All Realms

Chapter 317: Masks and Pure Silver

The light descended.

It hits the target the instant it is released.

Compared to the previous remote spellcasting, the power of this demonic artifact, which is now within arm's reach, is clearly far greater. And if it were to successfully touch the object, both body and soul would likely perish in an instant.

and so……

It cannot be touched.

Even if it gets touched, it cannot be made effective.

Thoughts clashed in his mind, and a predetermined command was successfully triggered. At the very instant the dazzling light touched Wu Chen's body, the azure silver headband he wore, operating at full power, returned to its original crown shape!
Worm Corrosive Crown, activated.

The defensive, supportive magical artifact clashed head-on with the plundering light of the Staff of Magnus. In the next instant, the latter's effects were neutralized, and the former lost its luster. With a single strike, Wu Chen successfully resisted it.

Fighter jets came about for this reason.

The out-of-control holy lightning erupted, indiscriminately destroying everything in its vicinity that could be touched.

Morlocke, which should have secured victory, lost its initial advantage. And because of this, it had to pay the price of its behavior being discerned by the enemy at such close range.

Wu Chen's lips parted slightly.

He left a flaw, and he found his chance to win. And in the next moment, he successfully released his trump card through his words!
“Zun-Haal-Viik——!” He uttered, his weapons stripped away.

Even if the Judgment of Light were to take effect, it wouldn't actually harm Morokyi. From the very beginning, this ancient dragon priest could only be injured when subjected to the power of a dragon's roar.

Wu Chen knew this, and he used this feint to guide the opponent's decision-making. In such a close-quarters battle, the projectiles he released arrived faster and more accurately than expected.

The dragon's roar, now unarmed, has reached out to the one wielding the staff.

The aged arm that should have been gripping Magnus's Staff stiffened abruptly the moment the dragon's roar took effect.

It lost the ability to wield it; its staff fell from its grasp. The dragon's roar produced a power suppression at the conceptual level. Even if it immediately picked up the staff, it would temporarily lose a pair of hands capable of gripping a weapon.

'Clang—' Magnus's Staff fell to the ground.

'Bang!' The psychic ropes that were trying to seize the staff collided hundreds and thousands of times in the air.

His opponents were impenetrable. He almost regained control of the Staff of Magnus.

However, this did not prevent Wu Chen from using outsider tactics on the chessboard.

'Fus——' Unyielding strength, monosyllabic.

The projected dragon priest, who was just moments before fighting with Wu Chen for the lost item, crashed straight into the collapsed wall dozens of meters away after the impact of this sonic wave. And when it returned to the battlefield, Wu Chen should, in any case, take the staff into his grasp.

That's how it should be.

This is the plan.

Dust exploded, obscuring visibility.

then……

'Thump—' The dragon priest, struck, let out a low growl of discontent from its chest. Its back slammed against the wall just as the dust was about to touch Magnus's staff.

The next moment, the projected dragon priest, now free from the attack, let out a slightly weak roar.

“Tiid-Klo-Ul——” Time-Sand-Eternity.

Time stopped.

Dragon's Roar, time slowed down, successfully triggered.

The dragon priest, having crashed into the wall, stepped out of this almost frozen realm of time. It was badly injured, but that didn't stop it from arriving before Wu Chen, who was still frozen at the moment of near success. Just a hair's breadth away, just a fraction short.

Beyond the obscuring dust, the dragon priest's hand once again grasped Magnus's staff.

Can't do it.

The dragon's roar of armed deprivation still affects it.

It cannot clench its fingers unless it does not use the staff, which is already locked to its treasure, as a weapon.

'Crack—' A flash of lightning appeared at the dragon priest's fingertips.

In the end, it could only use its telekinesis to lift the staff and hang it on its back. And its gaze finally fell on Wu Chen, who was still moving extremely slowly in the realm of time.

It has won.

There was no light of relief or joy in its eyes—the ability to think would never return to its grasp. Yet it remained a powerful projection of a dragon priest, capable of indiscriminately repeating spells even without intelligence.

So--

'Pfft—' The telekinetic blade descended.

In the eyes of the projected Morlock, this uninvited guest, who had caused it so much trouble, finally met its demise. It first cleaved the head open with a psychic blade, then used magic and spells to slice the remaining remains into countless pieces, until it became a lump of meat paste stuck together in the realm of time.

The battle is over.

The dragon's roar that activated the time-slowing field lost its effect silently. The air flowed again, and the clock ticked once more. The mangled remains of the body, reduced to a bloody pulp, fell to the ground.

'Splat—' Flesh and blood splattered into a burst of silver liquid.

Silver paste!?
The projection dragon priest, who was about to leave, suddenly turned its gaze to the mass of silvery-white liquid. It clearly saw the shape of a long staff within the collapsing and exploding liquid.

That was a staff.

That is the Staff of Magnus, the pinnacle of magical artifacts.

However, if the Staff of Magnus were there, what kind of terrifying truth would it represent that was taken back by it and carried on its back?
'Boom—' It sounded like a bubble exploding.

The next moment, the staff carried on the dragon priest's back instantly transformed into boiling silver liquid. At such close range, the projected dragon priest had no way to turn the tide.

The silver syrup was immediately swallowed.

It tore and gnawed at the projection dragon priest's body.

Even an unfeeling thing cannot help but scream in agony. However, no matter what spells it summons or what tricks it uses, its final outcome remains the same.

Death embraced it.

The silvery magma engulfed and seeped into the ancient dragon priest's body—the key to victory lay in anticipating that the disarming dragon roar wouldn't be the final blow and that another offensive tactic was necessary. Ultimately, using the dragon roar as cover, Wu Chen transformed a portion of his body into the shape of the Staff of Magnus.

He exhaled silently.

When all the resistance of the projection dragon priest was submerged by the silvery light, Wu Chen's form transformed back to its original appearance. And in the next moment, he removed the mask from his head.

One second, two seconds.

He held it in his hands and examined it carefully.

Then, a soft laugh.

“So that’s how it is,” he said.

The next moment, the entire dark dragon priest mask burst forth with spiderweb-like cracks!

(End of this chapter)