52: Chapter 52 Dragonblood Warrior!

OBrien Empire.

Hudson's roar echoed across the sky of the OBrien Empire.

But this was destined to be nothing more than the final struggle of a loser.

In his Dragonform, Linley's cold, slit-like pupils held no trace of human emotion.

The primal aura emanating from his very bones made the nobles in the viewing stands feel as though they were suffocating.

He tapped his toes lightly against the Void Realm.

The originally violent wind elemental essence became as docile as water beneath his feet.

"Swish!"

The air was sliced open in an instant.

Linley's figure vanished.

Before Hudson could even swing his sword with all his might, he felt a chill rush straight to his crown.

It was too fast.

It was so fast that it completely exceeded the reaction limit of a Peak Saint-level Expert.

"Bang!"

The greatsword collided with the Dragon claw.

The stalemate that had been expected did not occur.

Hudson's greatsword, capable of cleaving mountains, trembled violently under the strike of the Dragon claw.

The earth-yellow battle-qi radiance scattered in all directions like shattered glass.

Linley's speed did not decrease; it increased.

He sidestepped the edge of the greatsword and swept his Dragon tail in a backhand strike.

The Dragon tail was covered in hard, cyan-black scales, and the spikes at its tip glimmered with an eerie light.

It was the aesthetics of pure power.

Hudson only had time to drive his Earth Heart Crystal Armor to its limit.

"Crack!"

The previously indestructible crystal armor shattered like paper under this blow.

Hudson was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, slamming heavily into a mountain ridge in the distance.

Rocks collapsed.

Dust filled the sky.

The once overbearing Rock Saint Swordmaster was now lying in a wretched state, embedded in a crater.

Linley hovered in mid-air.

He did not pursue his advantage, merely looking down coldly at the scene below.

"Hudson, you have lost."

The voice was not loud, yet it reached the ears of everyone present.

The surroundings were deathly silent.

First Disciple Faen stood in the distance, his palms slick with sweat.

He had originally thought this would be a fierce battle, even worrying that Linley might lose his life.

But the result was a one-sided crushing defeat.

"This Bloodline... is truly a monster."

First Disciple Faen's throat moved as he uttered this exclamation.

On the viewing stand not far away.

Sals was picking at his fingernails, bored out of his mind.

As an Earth Violent Bear who had long since become a God, such petty squabbles were truly meaningless in his eyes.

"This kid sure knows how to show off."

Sals muttered to himself, speaking to the air beside him.

In the crater.

Hudson struggled to climb to his feet.

A large section of his chest was collapsed, and fresh blood continued to spill from the corners of his mouth.

He looked up at Linley.

Those golden, slit-like pupils made him feel an unprecedented sense of despair.

His much-vaunted Earth defense seemed like nothing more than a joke in the eyes of his opponent.

"I... concede."

Hudson lowered his arrogant head.

The moment those three words were spoken, he seemed to age over a dozen years.

Linley withdrew from his Dragonform state.

The scales faded away, and he returned to being that handsome youth once again.

He nodded slightly at Hudson, then turned and flew toward Yale and the others.

The capital of the OBrien Empire was in complete uproar.

A Saint-level Expert only in his twenties.

Had defeated the veteran powerhouse Hudson head-on.

This shock was no less than witnessing a miracle descend before their eyes.

"Linley!"

"Well done, Third Brother!"

Yale was so excited that his face had turned beet red.

He slapped Linley's shoulder hard, with enough force to make Linley, who hadn't fully recovered yet, stagger.

Linley offered a helpless smile.

"Just luck."

"Forget it, if you call that luck, then Hudson should go find a hole to crawl into."

Yale laughed heartily.

Beside them, Delia's beautiful eyes sparkled, filled with joy and pride.

But amidst the cheers, the figure of Doehring Cowart quietly appeared.

He looked at Linley, his old face full of gratification.

"Good child, well done."

Because of the intervention of Allen Dawson, this Saint-level Grand Magus had been spared the tragedy of his fall.

He now resided within the coiling dragon ring in the form of a Soul, and although his strength was greatly diminished, he could still guide Linley.

"Grandpa Doehring, it is thanks to your guidance."

Linley responded silently in his heart.

Before the commotion here had even dissipated, Sals had already sauntered over to Yale's side.

"Since the fighting is done, it's time to head back."

Sals yawned.

"Master is still waiting for news."

When Yale heard the word "Master," his expression immediately became respectful.

That was his eldest brother, Allen Dawson.

The existence who now lived in seclusion within the Dawson Empire, yet intimidated the entire continent.

"Linley, I must return to the Dawson Empire first."

Yale looked at Linley.

"Father has many matters to handle, and I cannot stay away for too long."

Linley nodded, a flash of gratitude in his eyes.

If not for Yale seeking help from his Family, and not for Sals intervening, he might still be trapped in the dungeons of the Radiant Church.

"Please give my regards to Eldest Brother Allen."

"Rest assured, the message will be delivered!"

Yale waved his hand, and he and Sals soared into the sky.

Linley stood in place, watching Yale's retreating figure, lost in thought.

Although he was strong now, if he wanted to take revenge and rebuild the Baruch Clan, he was still far from enough.

...

One day later.

In the taverns of the imperial capital, OBrien City, everyone was discussing this earth-shattering duel.

"Have you heard?"

"Lord Linley only used one hand!"

"Bullshit! I was there on the scene, Lord Linley transformed into a true Dragon and blew Hudson away with a single breath!"

The rumors became increasingly outrageous.

But in the eyes of true powerhouses, what they saw was a rising monster.

Meanwhile.

Linley stood at the entrance of the mansion, watching Wharton and the five Undying Warriors busy at work.

"Lord Linley, are we really going to the Eighteen Duchies?"

Barker carried a massive battle-axe, his voice as loud as thunder.

"The glory of the Ultimate Warrior should not exist only in books."

Linley looked at the greatsword in his hand.

His gaze was deep as he looked toward the south.

There, a storm was about to rise.

...

Half a year later.

Dawson Empire.

The Imperial Palace, Imperial Study.

"The Eighteen Duchies..."

"This kid Linley, he's really moving fast."

Monroe Dawson was frowning as he flipped through the battle reports.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

Rapid footsteps approached.

Yale burst through the door in a rush.

"Father!"

"Third Brother has founded a nation!"

"The Baruch Kingdom!"

"And... Third Brother is getting married to Delia!"

He waved a gold-stamped invitation in his hand, his face full of excitement.

Upon hearing this.

Monroe froze for a moment.

Then.

A curve tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"A double celebration."

"Linley is indeed a good kid."

Yale flopped onto the sofa, picked up some cold tea, and gulped it down.

"Father, I want to represent the Family and go celebrate."

Monroe pondered for a moment.

The establishment of the Baruch Kingdom marked the rise of another powerful force.

Such an ally was a good choice for the Dawson Family.

"You go."

Monroe tapped on the table.

"The gift must be substantial."

"Didn't Allen keep a few of those red moon fruits?"

"Take one with you."

Yale widened his eyes.

red moon fruit?

That was a divine object that could allow an ordinary person to step directly into the Saint-level!

"Old man, you're really bleeding heavily this time."

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