Chapter 483: You should have gone for the kill

The moment they left his mouth, the blue flames around his body surged with life, roaring like wild spirits set free. They burned brighter, higher, consuming the space around him in a blinding flash—and then he vanished. Gone, as if the fire had devoured him whole, leaving behind only a faint trace of flickering blue embers that danced where he had just been.

The leaders—King Magnar, Kate, Aurelia, Marcel, Elarion, Klaus, and the rest—froze. Their expressions shifted instantly from tense anticipation to shock. They turned their heads, eyes scanning the field with desperation—he was nowhere to be seen. Not above, not ahead, not around them.

And then—

A gasp escaped someone’s throat as all heads whipped around.

There he was.

Drevon, standing behind them—not walking, not flying, but already there, like he had never moved at all. One hand casually extended, his fingers clenched around Max’s neck, lifting the exhausted boy into the air like he weighed nothing. Max’s body hung limp, drained of all mana, his head tilted forward, too stunned to even react.

The leaders were speechless.

He had moved so fast—too fast. Not a flicker of movement, not a ripple in the air. Even their eyes—sharpened by years of battle and mastery—hadn’t registered a single moment of transition.

One instant he was blazing with blue flames, and the next, he had bypassed the strongest figures of the Lower Domain, undetected, and now held the continent’s greatest genius at his mercy.

And he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

They were all peak Expert Rank individuals—men and women who stood at the very summit of power within the Lower Domain. Each of them had weathered countless battles, crushed powerful foes, and walked the razor-thin edge of life and death more times than they could count.

Though it was true that there existed a boundary between the Expert Rank and someone who was halfway into the Master Rank, they had always believed—hoped, even—that the gap was narrow enough to contest with, to close through skill, experience, or sheer will. After all one was technically still in the Expert Rank even if they were halfway into the Master Rank.

But in that single moment, in that terrifying flash where Drevon vanished and reappeared, reality struck them with a cruel, merciless clarity: the gap wasn’t small—it was an abyss.

They hadn’t even seen him move. Not a blur. Not a shadow. Not even the faintest ripple of air.

And it wasn’t just speed—it was the ease with which he bypassed them, like they weren’t even there. That was what truly shook them. They, the strongest individuals in the Lower Domain—guardians, generals, leaders of empires—had become nothing more than spectators. Obstacles not even worth acknowledging.

A cold dread spread through each of their bodies, like black ink bleeding into clear water. If Drevon had wanted to, he could have killed Max, or any of them, in that instant.

And the chilling truth was that they might not have even known until it was already over. The crushing realization settled in their hearts like a stone—they couldn’t stop him.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

“Any last words?” Drevon asked, his voice smooth and dripping with arrogance as he grinned, holding Max effortlessly by the throat. His golden-red eyes sparkled with cruelty, fully expecting a plea, a whimper, or the silence of a broken spirit.

But Max grinned.

Even as his throat tightened, his breath shallow and crushed beneath Drevon’s grip, he managed to force the words through gritted teeth, eyes gleaming with defiance. “You should have gone for the kill.”

Drevon’s grin faltered.

And in that instant, everything changed.

Max’s expression twisted into something savage, cruel, as his body erupted in a surge of raw power. A violent roar tore through the sky as golden-black scales shot across his skin in a flash—his Dragon Scales Transformation activating at full force. But that was just the beginning.

In the very next breath—VIOLET LIGHTNING burst from his chest, his arms, his legs, even his eyes. It surged like a living thing, crawling and cracking around him with a sound that could split the heavens.

Chil-La!

A blinding beam of violet lightning exploded from Max’s core, lashing upward with a thunderous shriek. It tore through Drevon’s chest, the force so sudden and unforgiving that it launched him away like a meteor, his figure vanishing into the clouds above, trailing arcs of lightning in his wake.

The world shook. The clouds above twisted into spirals. The very sky flashed purple.

And for the first time in a very, very long time—Drevon was afraid.

“What is this?!” he shouted from high above, his voice a mix of disbelief and raw terror as he looked down at the boy he’d been moments from killing. His chest still smoked from the blast. That feeling—that oppressive, ancient force within the lightning—it didn’t just hurt him.

It frightened him.

“I’m not done with you!” Max roared, his voice carrying over the chaos of the battlefield like thunder cleaving through silence. Pain ripped through every inch of his body—screaming, tearing, burning.

His Dragon Scales Transformation, once the armor that made him nearly invincible, was now betraying him under the sheer force of the Violet Lightning surging uncontrollably within him. The protective scales began to crack, melt, and burn away, flaking off his body in glowing embers as the energy inside him spiraled wildly out of control.

Even his white hair, once gleaming like starlight, was completely consumed, turned to ash and carried by the howling wind. His skin blackened, scorched by the pure elemental wrath coursing through his veins. He looked like a ruin—a walking calamity—but his eyes burned brighter than ever. There was no hesitation. No fear.

Only purpose.

With his hands trembling from the strain, Max slammed his palms together, his voice a low growl as he uttered the command that only he could give—the will of the Dimension of Lightning. The heavens rumbled, the clouds churned violently, and then—

“Roar!!!”

A deep, primal dragon’s roar erupted from the sky, loud enough to shake the bones of everyone on the battlefield. The storm clouds overhead shattered apart, breaking like glass under the weight of something unimaginable.

From within the breach, a colossal dragon head began to descend—formed entirely from Violet Lightning. Its size dwarfed cities, its eyes glowing with ancient wrath, its fangs crackling with sparks that could turn mountains to ash. The sheer pressure from its presence caused the very air to whine, and those below could only look up in awe, terror, and disbelief.

This wasn’t a skill.

This wasn’t a technique.

This was judgment.

Its target – Drevon.

Drevon’s eyes widened, a flicker of something foreign twisting in their depths—pure dread. The moment the Violet Lightning Dragon locked onto him, its colossal head illuminating the sky with electric fury, his instincts screamed louder than reason. The air itself trembled under the weight of the beast’s wrath.

Every arc of lightning that cracked off its hide scorched the clouds, tearing open the heavens as if reality itself was ripping apart. The sheer pressure that radiated from the dragon’s body made even the strongest beings on the battlefield feel like ants beneath a storm.

But Drevon—arrogant, unshaken—didn’t cower.

His body ignited instantly in a swirl of blue flames, and with a flash, he shot into the distance, fleeing like a streak of light across the sky. He didn’t even try to block it—he knew he couldn’t. That thing wasn’t just a technique. It wasn’t an attack.

It was annihilation given form.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!