I'm really not a dragon.

On the Flower Ridge Plaza,

"Bar!"

A holy golden light covered the longsword, and the Flame Fist Grand Duke stirred up the wind and clouds with a single strike, thrusting it towards Baal's saint.

In an instant, the unpredictable shadow spread its bat-like wings and charged towards the Holy Slash. With a crisp explosion, the Flame Fist Grand Duke's pupils suddenly contracted, and the armor on his back suddenly cracked, bursting into a cloud of blood mist.

Gods can change their form, similar to the natural shapeshifting of druids, but in a much wider variety of ways.

The Shadow Demons, born from the bottomless abyss, have amorphous shadow bodies. Their bodies are like a dark mist, and their sharp, slender claws can pierce through any object. These creatures are natural wanderers.

Blood and fragments of internal organs gushed from Grand Duke Flamefist's mouth. Leaning on his longsword for support, he shouted to the dwarf, the northern barbarian, and Suen, "Run! Quickly!"

"I'm incredibly lucky! I actually saw three Chosen Ones!"

The saint of Baal slowly withdrew his claws, drawing blood from the air and transforming it into a blood-flowing blade.

Gods can create wondrous things, and this creation can even be permanent.

He swung his blade at the three of them, and a sharp red light swept across the air.

A broken slash line rapidly approached the three people along the surrounding buildings.

chap!

Blood mist burst from the chest of the northern barbarian and from the legs of Suen at the same time, and he fell to the ground. Only the dwarf touched the top of his head with lingering fear, unable to believe that he had escaped death because of his size.

Suen knelt on the ground, clutching his aching legs. He smashed a handful of healing potions and slapped them onto the wounds on his thighs. The potions and blood froze together, and the pain quickly transformed into an itchy sensation as flesh grew back.

The Saint of Baal has appeared? The Weeping God was unable to stop him.

A burst of magical light flashed in Suen's hand, and the second Breath Enhancer appeared in his hand. He stuffed the bottle and the medicine into his mouth and chewed it up in one bite.

The medicine exploded in the stomach and intestines, turning into scalding magma that burned the blood vessels.

From his towering, giant-like body, came the cracking sound of bone growth. Su En exhaled a breath full of electrical charge, and the words "[Dragon Vein lv7]" gradually appeared on the panel.

The scales on his face were itchy, and black thorns grew along the outline of his skull, while golden whiskers, symbolizing wisdom, sprouted from his chin.

Baal couldn't help but glance at Suen a few more times. It was the first time he had ever seen a monster with features of five different metallic dragons on its face. Especially the Bahamut mark on its face!

"What kind of monster are you?!"

Suen didn't speak, grabbing the Flame Fist Grand Duke with one hand and the Northern Barbarian with the other.

"Brian, hug my knees!"

The dwarf leaped up, grabbing Suen's ankle and clutching the bandages wrapped around it.

Barr's eyes suddenly turned sinister.

"I hereby decree that your souls shall perish!"

Following the direction of Saint Baal's finger, a pale green light pierced into Suen's body, and an ugly secondary soul emerged from Suen's back, howling as it dissipated!

The message "[One-Man Tribe: Disciple of the Three]" on the panel suddenly disappeared, meaning that he had died once on a spiritual level!

Su En was startled and quickened her pace.

"Cough cough!" Grand Duke Flame Fist coughed up blood amidst the jolting. "You should have abandoned me; that was my battle with Him."

"I grabbed you instinctively..." Su En paused for a moment, "Your daughter, I haven't settled this score with you yet!"

"Sunn, look over there!" the dwarf shouted suddenly.

With the disappearance of the "one-person tribe",

Suen's senses gradually returned to normal, and the world became clearer.

He could clearly sense the violent riot coming from the direction of the harbor!

From the higher plane, the celestial being Sila, from the realm of bliss, wielded a 15-meter-long celestial spear, and a storm rose beneath her feet.

The golden spear, carrying the aura of the higher planes, pierced towards Bane's saint; each of her attacks was a devastating storm.

That silent and wicked man, as black as ebony, wielded the divine weapon called Bane's Iron Hand, and his fighting skills were unmatched even by legendary monks.

The aftershocks of the all-out battle between the two legendary beings spread outwards, and the surrounding houses and buildings collapsed in the clash of extreme power, from hundreds of meters to thousands of meters, forming a ruin that looked like it had been crushed by a storm; the surrounding seawater formed terrifying cavities, and with each collision, the seawater evaporated into water mist.

"Is that the incarnation of Bane, the saint?"

Grand Duke Flame Fist let out a sigh that seemed to be in despair.

"Where is Losanda?"

Suen asked slowly.

"Losander, he is now indistinguishable from the ancient sun god. It's a great pity, a very great pity."

A voice came from behind me.

As Suen turned his head, the Saint of Baal appeared in the shadows, looking at the group with satisfaction: "For mortals, this level of achievement is not bad."

Grand Duke Flame Fist broke free of Su En's grasp, his legs buckled, and he half-knelt on the ground, leaning on his longsword for support as he slowly rose.

"Father, this is a feud between us, please let them go!"

The shadow in the darkness seemed to have heard a joke; its scarlet eyes narrowed to slits. "Killing the Chosen One will hasten my resurrection far more than killing ten thousand mortals!"

The dwarf opened his mouth wide, but couldn't utter a word. He was covered in cold sweat and his face was full of bitterness.

The northern barbarian clutched his bleeding chest, his body stiff, as if trapped in some terrifying memory.

Grand Duke Flame Fist looked at the group with a guilty expression, seemingly feeling ashamed.

Sun glanced at Saint Baal with disgust, spat, and said, "I knew it! Apodel, there's no point in talking to a guy like that!"

Baal's pleasure ended, and he squinted as he rushed straight toward Suen.

A phantom image instantly squeezed into the narrow gap of reality.

"Be careful, that's the ability of a Shadow Dancer!"

The sound of snapping strings came from the wind, and Su En's hands and feet burst into a mist of blood at the same time.

Suen knelt on the ground and suddenly turned around. From the shadow behind him, the elegant and cruel figure of Saint Baal emerged.

He took a deep breath, expanding his lungs to their limit, and coughed towards Saint Baal.

"roar!"

The three breaths mingled together—fire, frost, and lightning—and this elemental energy struck Baal, but it slid away as if hitting an invisible shield!

Baal was slightly surprised and said strangely, "How strange! Are you also a chosen one?"

So, from the very beginning, the three chosen ones referred to the dwarves, the barbarians, and the Grand Duke?

Su En knelt on the ground, his throat aching terribly, unable to spit out a single spark.

As the former son of Baal, Grand Duke Flamefist, wielding a longsword, closed in on Baal's saint. Golden light flowed with his body as he moved, and the gleaming holy sword spun and danced like a leaf in a storm.

Chop, stab, upward thrust.

His combat skills were impeccable in the eyes of mortals, but lacked something in the eyes of gods. Baal's saint reached out, and hands formed of shadow energy slipped through the gaps in his armor and into his chest.

Grand Duke Flame Fist's body seemed to have been struck by lightning, and he slowly knelt down.

Even for a legendary paladin, the heart remains a fatal injury.

The dwarf seemed to finally recover from his fear. He picked up a stone and charged at Baal's saint, shouting, "I'll fight you to the death! Aaaaah!"

Baal raised his finger, and the petrification spell fell on the dwarf. The dwarf knelt on one knee, trembling violently. His skin throbbed and contracted like boiling water. His clothes were the first to turn to stone.

Secondly, there's the beard that dwarves are so proud of, the rest of their body hair, skin...

Conan, the barbarian from the North, seemed to have finally recovered from his fear. He looked at the critically injured and dying Suen, the dwarf who was gradually turning to stone, and the Flame Fist Grand Duke whose fate was unknown.

Hot tears streamed down his face as he knelt on the ground, arms outstretched, roaring towards the sky.

"Tempas! O omnipotent, omnipresent war power! I call upon you!"

"You are iron and blood, black and red, beneath your feet stand two magnificent horses: the white horse Veros for victory, the black horse Deros for defeat!"

"You, the defeated warrior, call upon you, call upon the fickle war!"

"I wield my blade again for you, O mighty power of war! I cry out to you!"

"The Chosen Champion of Tempas!" Baal's saint glared with disgust and roared, "You have abandoned the path the gods chose for you, yet you expect the gods to respond to you! What do you take us for, prayer spells?!"

at this time,

A raindrop fell from the sky.

Time seemed to stand still. The saint of Baal watched the raindrop hang in the air and saw the endless war flowing in the raindrop, the living fighting on the earth and the dead fighting in the sky.

War! War! War!

The clang of metal against metal! The sound of flesh and blood tearing apart! The sound of flames igniting corpses and spreading across the barren, blood-stained earth!

The raindrops fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Then came a torrential downpour!

"No, no, no, how could this be!"

The saint of Baal looked up at the sky in disbelief and saw a magnificent horse galloping through the clouds. Like a shooting star, it cut through the dark clouds that covered a thousand miles, and the golden sunlight shone through the dispersing clouds, illuminating the mountains and cities.

It was a black steed, Deros the Black, followed by the souls of the defeated.

Then a second group of horses galloped across the sky; it was the white steed Veros. The souls of the victors surged toward the defeated, and the eternal war echoed in the sky.

What terrified Barr was that

Its will was gradually being stripped away from this body. The Shadow Demon's claws turned into mortal hands, and it was being pulled away and dissipated little by little!

Beyond the world,

That place, known as the Astral Realm, is a bizarre and wondrous world formed from countless droplets of thought.

Deities are products of faith, dependent on the thoughts of all beings. After their death, their skeletal projections float in the astral plane.

At this moment, the remnant of Baal, which showed faint signs of revival, welcomed its first visitor. The deity, riding two steeds, opened his arms, and war and bloodshed swept away the droplets of thought in the astral plane like a plague.

The moment Tempas, the mighty god of war, appeared in the world, the free-roaming bandits and red dragons that plundered everywhere in the astral plane, and the mind flayers who enslaved all living beings in their shell-like ships, fled with their tails between their legs.

"Baal, you've crossed the line. You brought war, and I will end your war!"

-

The dark clouds in the sky dissipated, and rain and sunshine descended upon the city.

The embodiment of Bane gazed silently at the sky.

Junshoutian also raised its noble and graceful neck.

"Tempas!"

"It's over, Junshou Tianxila."

"You're going to save your friend," Jun Shoutian said jokingly.

"He's stupid!" Bane said succinctly, "but he's useful!"

Bane's avatar slowly dissipated into the air.

Once again, Sila saved a city, and Jun Shoutian felt a surge of pride. That's how the Gading Celestials are; living in paradise, they are selfless altruists who feel uneasy if they don't do good deeds every day.

"It's time to leave!"

The spear traced an arc in the air, and the enchanting song echoed within the portal.

As Sila was about to leave, she suddenly sensed something. She felt an extremely evil aura surging through the city, but this aura dissipated very quickly.

Perhaps the mortals possessed by Baal were destroyed!

With that thought in mind, she stepped into the portal.

-

On the other side,

As Vera fled through the crowd, she looked around in bewilderment. The crowd stopped in their tracks, the terrified people, the solemn-faced guards, the high-ranking officers—their expressions frozen, like puppets. She fearfully tugged at Odelle's silk sleeve. "Mama, what's wrong with them!"

Ms. Odelle also stood frozen in place.

The world seemed to have stopped turning.

Only she can move normally

No, that's not right!

Vera stared wide-eyed at the camp in the outer city, where a beautiful girl stood between the paladins and the city watchmen.

She possessed a mesmerizing beauty and a pair of translucent wings; her attire was magnificent, far surpassing that of ordinary people.

The half-winged elf stretched out her hand towards Vivi, whispering, "Give it to me! It was prepared for me! Give it to me! Girl, please give it to me!"

Her eyes were like a silver mirror, seemingly reflecting the desires of mortals.

An invisible malice, like a venomous snake, gnawed at Vera's heart. She shook her head frantically, clutching her chest. "You, you wish-granting demon! Aren't you?!"

The woman in the silver mirror tilted her head, revealing a strange smile. "What...wish do you have?"

"I won't make a wish!" Vera took out a small perfume bottle, the colorful perfume swirling inside, containing only a tiny drop, filled with the hatred, pain, torment, and love that shouldn't be there.

"I'll make a trade; I'll use this to exchange for a wish."

The woman in the silver mirror hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Vera carefully handed over the perfume.

The woman in the silver mirror opened the perfume bottle, and an indescribable, alluring fragrance wafted out from the opening.

She put the drop of perfume on herself.

Her purity faded, replaced by a splash of color.

Ironically, for someone like her, the first step to becoming a god is to possess humanity and understand humankind in order to gain their faith and attain true divinity.

The fragrance is a blend of ten different souls, and the emotions they evoke together form her complete soul.

If all fragrances represent negative emotions, she will become an evil god comparable to the spider goddess Rose; if all fragrances represent positive emotions, she will become a benevolent god comparable to the weeping god Ilmas.

She understood human jealousy, human hatred, sadness, despair... and she also understood love.

"Next, it's time to retrieve that divinely imbued body!"

She murmured to herself.

"Wait!" Vera cried. "My wish is to save my mother so she will never become a witch!"

The woman with the silver mirror ignored her and walked into the city.

"etc!"

Vera frantically lifted her skirt and ran towards the Woman of the Silver Mirror. She slipped and fell into a mud puddle, her face covered in mud. Vera looked up and burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, "You lied to me! You lied to me! You big liar!"

A sense of incomprehension welled up in the heart of the Silver Mirror Maiden, piercing her frozen soul like a needle.

Out of pity,

She said, "Tasha!"

"Who is Tasha? Tell me!"

The Lady of the Silver Mirror looked at Vera in a panic, then rushed into Baldur's Gate without looking back. Some kind of change she didn't understand was happening, and she was terrified.