Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Chapter 806 The Unruly God

Both the dwarves and the fire-divers were affected. As the dragon's claws solidified, its murderous gaze pierced through space, plunging both sides into a prolonged silence. It wasn't that sound vanished, but rather that the brain's processing capacity was being taken over by a far more magnificent and resounding voice. Every hair, every inch of skin, responded to the arrival of this higher being.

Viserker Firehammer was excited. He had intended to take this opportunity to roar and rally his troops to crush General Marsim's remaining forces, but under the pressure of his aura, he could only raise his hammer tremblingly, like a comical character in slow motion.

His body gradually adapted to resist the dragon's might, regaining control of his body. The Dwarf King crashed into a closed shop on the side of the street like a cannonball. He stood up, clutching his lower back. The solid iron walls of the dwarves caused the king a second injury. He took down the tattered sign that was half hanging from his beard, while the other half was stuck in the human-shaped indentation of the iron block.

Perhaps we should order a restriction on steel production and force shops to use linen for their stalls. Viserge thought absently, his mind still hazy from blood loss. The wound on his forehead reopened, and blood stained half his face the color of a Firehammer family member's beard.

This is bad. General Malsim adapted to the pressure much faster and dealt a heavy blow. The Fireburst leader has a better mindset than the Dwarf King, meaning he is mentally prepared to resist the dragon's might. The Swarm has a backup plan.

The red dragon priest Freheimer's exclamation was not obvious, but the strange phenomenon appearing in the fiery portal enveloping the dragon was visible to the naked eye. The enormous amber-shaped energy ball suddenly burst into intense light, bringing a sun-like warmth to the underground world. The dragon's roar echoed from within, and then all the dwarves witnessed a chilling scene.

The fiery portal collapsed inwards, tearing the massive Father of Dragons within into a shredded mess. His body, now spiraled into a cone, was being forcefully pushed aside by a roaring dragon that extended its claws, attempting to use brute force to pry open the collapsing portal. But the flames were far less effective than the spatial rift. The Father of Dragons was dragged back through the aberrant portal, unleashing a final, furious breath that blasted the top of the underground world, creating a shower of rubble.

The Father of Ten Thousand Dragons was banished to the Elemental Plane.

In the deep darkness of the entrance to the Mackenport dungeon, several emaciated fire-digging shamans put down their instruments. Within the rune array drawn from the remains and blood of the Queen of Insects, a spark elemental was bound, its flames appearing sick and listless.

"Fortunately, the remaining divine essence within the Queen's body is barely enough to banish that traitorous god from another realm." The Zerg shaman secretly rejoiced. The Firebursers had long ago prepared to seal off this space and expel all enemy reinforcements. The dwarven guardian dragon was their intended target, but the Mindflayer's intelligence gave them an extra layer of caution, and it turned out to be a lucky accident.

The unexpected dragon attack was a significant blow to Mackenbert's garrison. Viserg would likely never forget the distinctive sound General Malsim had made that time—his insect wings vibrating and striking beneath his sheath, his serrated mouthparts uttering each word in rhythm. The Fireburst leader felt a mixture of smugness and jealous resentment.

"Lord to Lord, servant to servant. Don't you think that's fair, God's favorite? Don't try to be clever, Dwarf King."

Dodging the leaping slash of the scythe claws with a sideways roll, Viserger raised his flaming hammer to block another sweeping attack from Marsim. He leaped on one leg, his right hand wielding the red dragon hammer, which arced through the air and slammed into the Fireburster's breastplate. A burst of life force exploded at the center of their attack, scorching the beetle's exoskeleton and the wounds on the dwarf king's body. The surge of life force made Viserger feel somewhat better. He stared at his towering enemy and assumed a fighting stance.

"A clever trick? My dragon granted the dwarves the miracle of the Flame of Life. You may be able to disrupt the portal, but you cannot sever our connection with the Red Dragon. She favors us, and the dwarves will respond to her."

Flames erupted from his twin hammers, tongues of fire climbing up Veserl's arms. The healing power of the flames soothed the dwarf's wounds, leaving only a warm sensation, no stinging pain. The flames enveloping Veserl's entire body coalesced above his head, forming the nascent form of a fire elemental in a short time. The flames of life were forged into life in the hands of the dwarf Veserl—a burning spirit of a goat.

With a shared understanding, Viserger quickly comprehended the spirit of the goat. He charged at Marsim again, blocking the fire-digger's scythe, and shouted, "Kill him! Neo!"

The firelight, like a phantom, passed through the dwarf's body, solidifying at his chest before striking the fire-digger's breastplate with a deafening boom. General Marsim leaned back, staggering backward, staring at the crack in his chest.

"An attack that cannot be stopped?"

The Dwarf King's advantage emboldened the dwarves in their fierce battle. Creating Flame Spirits was no difficult task for these blacksmiths, and Mackenbert's forces doubled in number in an instant; some seasoned Life Overlords even created two Life Spirits each. The Dragon King's setback did not dampen the dwarves' confidence, or rather, their confidence in the red dragon Immelt.

After several rounds, General Marshem was covered in wounds; his breastplate had several obvious cracks and was blackened. Meanwhile, Viserger's scars from his severed limbs had healed.

The Dwarf King was a skilled blacksmith, adept at forging and knowing how to destroy. He saw in General Malsim's tough exoskeleton the same way.

Just one more hit, he thought to himself. Marsim's attacks were no longer as fierce; his left sickle was now more for defense, protecting the net-like cracks on his chest, the result of Viserger's repeated strikes.

The burly fire-digger seemed somewhat comical to the dwarf. He laughed, summoned his fire spirits, and they swarmed forward.

The same tactic, just like the previous dozen or so times, was used to restrain Marsim's movements, block his bladed feet with weapons, and strike with the Flame Spirit.

Marsim sacrificed one of his forelegs, using his scythe to slash back at the flames. The fire spirit's burning eyes seemed to mock him, the scattered flames solidifying again and striking that crucial spot with tremendous force.

With a snap, a gap appeared in the shell, and the Flame Spirit burrowed inside. General Marsim suddenly burst into flames, turning into a whole roasted worm. The shell was extremely resistant, but the inside was fragile and soft. Soon, the Fire Digger crouched on the ground, and the beautiful shell turned into a layer of charred remains from the inside out.

The dwarf king looked at the extinguished fire and asked, "Did we win?"

The sound from the ashes negated him. The charred shell shattered, and General Marshem was reborn from the ashes, his gaze still fierce, the surface of his brand-new exoskeleton adorned with a ring of beautiful fire patterns.

Without hesitation, Viserger attacked again, and this time, the Fire Digger offered no defense.

With the scythe drawn back to his chest, General Marshem strolled out with an air of elegance, as if attending a banquet. His ceremonial uniform was impeccably dressed and as pristine as ever.

"Multi-layered armor, this is the transformation given to me by the Great Lord. Beneath my armor, new armor is being forged. Your attacks, your flames, will become the best anvil for my new body."

General Marsim opened his arms and lunged at the Dwarf King.

"Compared to the Lord's gifts, look how weak the dragon's blessings are!"

At the last moment, with no way to avoid it, Viserger was pushed away by Captain Paul, who was surrounded by molten lava. Captain Paul was then gripped by those ferocious scythes and held in General Marsim's arms.

The pity in the Fire Digger's eyes vanished in an instant. He bent over and placed Captain Paul into his retracted blade. The dwarf's resistance against the flames was futile, and under the gaze of all the dwarves, General Marsim curled up into a ball.

"Will fire heal your wounds? Will it burn out a brand new dwarf? I will devour his flesh and bones bit by bit, and through this feeding, I will make you disappear from this world."

The way the battle had changed. The swarm seemed to have shared General Malsim's talents; they had donned stronger shells, seized the nearest dwarf, and began to huddle together. The gnawing of the insects and the agonizing screams of the dwarf soldiers cast a shadow over the defenders of Veserl.

The fire-diggers' shells clanged, but all they could do was watch blood seep from the cracks in the shells and the screams gradually fade away.

The soldiers were somewhat confused.

"Baron Garden! What are you doing!" Viserge stared in horror as the towering elemental lord squeezed halfway into the gap between General Marsim's body. The elemental lord was the most intense flame, and to cram it into such a small space would...

explosion.

General Marshem's insect sphere unfolded, and the newly extended elemental lord held a lone head in its hand—the remaining Captain Paul.

"This is Paul's choice, and I respect his will." In his final moments, Paul communicated with the Elemental Lord, instructing him to detonate his own body. To stop the Firediggers' torment and prevent the dwarf warriors' morale from plummeting, this was Paul's decision.

"Oh, can you survive with just a head? It doesn't matter. The time it takes for your wounds to heal is enough for me to conquer the city. It's no different from death."

A large crater appeared in General Marsim's chest, and a few seconds later, an even taller Fireburst emerged from the wreckage. "Come on, dwarves, your nightmare will continue."

The Elemental Lord's explosion was not enough to kill the Fireburst, and the swarm would return in a more powerful form.

Viserker felt a chill; the figure of Marsim was like a biting cold wind, making the Dwarf King's heart tremble.

Fire rained down from the sky, each falling spark seemingly igniting a steel city. The dragon's kin looked up in bewilderment and saw their own spiritual totem.

The energy surged, and the Garden Baron suddenly felt at home. The abundant energy made him seem omnipotent. Just as the fully-formed Flame Lord was about to give the swarm something even more brutal, he looked up at the sky, and the Elemental Lord was so frightened that he almost went out of control.

In the underground city of Mackenbert, dangerous active volcanoes and raging rivers of lava hang upside down in the sky, while wild fire elementals roam the air.

It seemed as if a transparent membrane separated the blazing apocalypse in the sky from the dwarf city.

It also isolated the mad, violent, and vengeful Dragon Father at the very center. He roared, and the volcano erupted, raining down fire upon the city, while the fiery elementals both feared and tried to approach him.

He has returned.

Apocalyptic disaster hangs over the heads of all living beings.

The one who descended upon this place was Yemotar, the Fire Dragon Father, the Elemental Invader.

Chapter 807 Burn Everything

The hurried footsteps echoed through the passageway, their slight incongruity testifying to the crawler's panic. This fire-digger was General Malshim's adjutant, stationed in the rear to oversee a mission assigned by the leader. He had thus lost the opportunity to fight on the front lines, and now, even greater fears were clouding his judgment.

The blinding light of the fire, blasting open the stone chamber door, interrupted the lieutenant's questioning. His small compound eyes failed to capture the withered figure of the insect shaman; the raging flames at the center of the rune filled his entire field of vision. The elemental prisoner seemed like a completely different person. The fire-digging lieutenant, who had participated in the entire capture, swore that the original fire elemental was no more than a tenth the size of this raging inferno. Previously, he had been a prisoner; now he was a defiant thug, looking like he could be released at any moment.

The fire elemental spotted the intruder, its flames stretching into crescent shapes, and a menacing grin spread across its face, as if it were about to devour its prey. The prisoner's arrogance stung the swarm's pride; it snorted and rubbed its forelimbs, sparks flying.

"You are still under our control, little flame."

"But not for long, little bug." The inverted triangle-shaped flame no longer responded to any provocations. He burned silently in place, like a silent candle, illuminating the entire dark room with his flame.

Compared to the raging flames, the fire-digging shamans lying prostrate in the corner looked rather pathetic. Their shells were dull and lifeless, their thin, wiry bodies like stalks of hemp. The joints of those maintaining the rune array creaked and cracked with each movement. Seeing the lieutenant enter, the shaman bowed respectfully, his already deformed body easily causing his head to touch the ground.

"The exile ceremony was disrupted? You failed?" The question wasn't strongly worded; the adjutant seemed to already know the answer.

“No, we can still feel the restraints. As long as we have a breath left, that traitorous god will be trapped in the elemental plane. The ritual is sustained by our lives, and we swear by our lives.” Although he looked half-dead, his clear communication ability proved that the Fire-Digging Shaman could still hold on to life.

The adjutant heard the shaman's resolute heart, which made his emotions particularly complex. The exile ritual was still underway, and the strange phenomena in the sky were already present; the anomaly in the fire element pointed to a terrible truth.

The god of betrayal did not escape his cage; instead, he transformed it into a chariot, laden with rage, and rammed into it.

Mr. Dragon had never been so furious. Today, he left his warm nest as usual. His youngest son's corruption had been successfully reversed; he had grown up. The rest was left to little Mel. His rebellious daughter still cared about the group of short, stout boys who had kidnapped her, her distorted worldview only fueling her turmoil. The severe injury to Poldris became the old father's justification for restraining his daughter; the dragon could now legitimately order the red dragon to stay and care for his wounded brother.

Then began the start of his bad mood.

Immelt, driven by the noble cause of caring for her younger brother, pleaded with her elderly father to aid their kin. Despite his daughter's earnest and tactful words, the dragon felt as if a knife were lodged in his throat, reluctantly stepping into the tiny portal designed specifically for her. He even hunched his shoulders, lowered his head, and had to compress his bones to squeeze through the damned red door. During the teleportation, he constantly pondered how to project a majestic aura to intimidate the swarms of insects coveting his treasure, thus counteracting the psychological discomfort caused by the confined space.

"These bearded bastards won't even build a bigger, wider portal for my little Mel. They're nothing but profit-driven reptiles, not worth trusting," the dragon muttered, selectively forgetting the urgency and severity of the situation. He saw the firelight and heard the clanging of metal. The dragon roared excitedly, his frustration transforming into murderous intent. The great dragon father declared he would make his enemies who angered him die a worthy death, and perhaps he could also accidentally trample a few shorty-like figures to vent his anger.

He thought all the grievances he had suffered were a prelude to a happy ending, but he didn't expect the grievances to be far from over. He crawled through a dog hole for his daughter, but this damned little portal was interfered with by insects, dragging the dragon to another dimension. "Freheimer! You bastard! You can't even control your own portal!!" The dragon was trapped inside the portal, powerless to control its own destiny. The red dragon priest's portal became a leash dragging the dragon father, banishing him to the elemental plane.

Land of Flames.

The king of the Dragon Age, the Devourer Yemotar, the chief professor of Bone Conjuration under Andrei, gazed blankly at the infernal landscape of the Firelands in order to fulfill his daughter's wish.

The dragon finally realized what had happened, thinking that he had never suffered such humiliation in all his long life. The arrogance and vanity in his dragon blood drove the Father of Dragons completely mad. He flapped his wings, shattering a nearby volcano into dust, and unleashed a torrent of dragon breath that burned the fire elementals. By the time the other Flame Lords found the Dragon Father, he had already climbed to the summit of the volcano in the Land of Fire, letting fiery clouds invade the stormy sky.

“Great Dragon King, we are the Flame Baron, allies of the Red Dragon Clan. Please do not worry, we will re-establish the portal so that you can return to the battlefield in time…”

"A portal? No!!!" The dragon glared fiercely at Baron Sponge, its furious eyes more piercing than the sun. "I don't need anyone to open doors for me! If they turn me away, I'll tear their houses down!!!" The dragon's body shattered, the gaping wounds raining blood down on the fiery lands. The divine blood didn't evaporate; instead, it completely corroded and assimilated the elemental plane. Crimson tentacles emerged from the magma river, and the fire elementals, bathed in the blood rain, roared madly. The entire fiery lands came alive; Yemotar's corruption ruled over the entire fire elemental plane.

The anomalies in the Land of Fire attracted the attention of other elemental planes, but due to the previous elemental riots, the elemental lords chose to remain indifferent. Soon, they were deeply grateful for this decision. They witnessed firsthand how the Land of Fire was torn apart by some irresistible force, its shattered edges still bleeding, hissing like venomous snakes towards the remaining planes. The wind elemental screamed and nearly disintegrated on the spot, the water elemental froze into ice, and the earth and stone elemental tried to deceive themselves with the conclusion of normal plate tectonics. Under the watchful eyes of the other elements, the Land of Fire departed, this elemental plane becoming an ark, crashing headlong into a dimensional rift.

"My house is gone? My house is gone? A motorhome?!" The anomaly beyond comprehension caused the fire elementals to collectively lose their minds. Fortunately, the already wild flames easily accepted reality. The power of the Father of Ten Thousand Dragons drove the flame elementals into a frenzy, and this madness reached its peak when they invaded the material plane.

"Burn everything!!!"

"The army of flames is unstoppable!!!"

"Turn them to ashes!!!"

"Praise be to war!! Praise be to the dragon!!!"

Hanging above Mackenbert's sky, only four Flame Lords remained conscious. They knew what would happen if the dragons were allowed to complete the plane collision. Despite being so close to home and longing for their homeland, the Flame Lords voluntarily transformed into pillars of fire to support the entire elemental plane and block their own doorway.

The Father of Dragons commanded the elements, unleashing countless flames upon Mackenbert. His ferocity was hotter than lava, and his world-destroying hatred ignited the planetary will to resist. A world barrier that divided the planes blocked the Father of Dragons, even though this membrane seemed ready to be pierced at any moment.

"Get out of my way!! I'm going to crush those bugs!!!" the dragon roared, it was hard to tell who the killing intent was directed at, the bugs, the dwarves, or everyone.

"Great Lord of Flames, please calm your anger! Please calm your anger! Calm your anger!" The Flame Venerable hid on the other side of the world barrier, gritting his teeth as he tried to appease the enraged dragon. If the planes collided, nothing would be left here but flames. They believed they understood the Dragon Father's humiliation and pleaded for his mercy.

"Ah, right!! Great Lord of Flames, these ants don't need you to personally intervene. Just rain down fire, unleash your breath, and let the insects turn to ashes under your breath. There's no better way for them to die!"

Angry people are blind, and the dragon, its mind snapped, quickly accepted the first opinion it heard. A burst of dragon breath burst through the barrier, scorching the insects and the army of dwarves at war.

It was like a sun falling on Mackenbert.

Chapter 808 The Battle of Kuafu

Viserker had never conceived of the concept of "scalding heat." He had always thought that having lived his entire life by the Great Forge, he would never feel any discomfort with the color red. Just as he had never imagined that some kind of "wind" would lift his composed self away. Just as the underground city was devoid of sunlight.

The aftershocks of the bombing sent shivers down my spine, the blinding light seemed to pierce my eyes, the deafening roar echoing through my skull drove me mad, and in my delirium, the pain of my skin carbonizing was so profound.

Lying prone on the ground, my body is experiencing two extremes: the air is tearing my flesh apart, and the soft earth is trying to meld me into it.

Three seconds after his tears evaporated, the Dwarf King barely regained his vision. He opened his eyes, gritting his teeth, and saw a shimmering, muddy expanse. The molten iron resembled mud, and the other end of Mackenbert's steel foundation had become a bubbling crater. The fragments of the Firediggers were trapped in the "mud," slowly sinking without leaving a trace.