Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1421 Corpse of Black Dragon!
Previously on Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100...
Once the aura fully bore down upon him, a profound shudder coursed through Max's frame and spirit, like an age-old entity had fixed its stare on him. Though his breaths stayed even, his pulse hammered hard for a single beat when awareness hit.
'This pressure and aura belong to the Black Dragon,' Max mused inwardly, his mind honing to a fine edge.
He'd sensed a comparable force in the past.
Memories dragged him to Obsidian Dragon City and the Nine Dragons Painting, into that expansive illustrated realm where he'd confronted an actual Black Dragon up close.
During that time, the force had crushed with raw, instinctual command, a force compelling awe and terror from all creatures in its path. The essence had burned itself into his recollection so profoundly that confusion with any other was impossible.
Still, the sensation enveloping him at this moment varied.
Akin in essence, yet vastly weightier.
With his attention fixed on the aura surging from the dome, a cold shiver traced Max's back. The crushing vibe seemed even more fearsome and choking, bearing the weight of authority built over endless ages.
Rather than stemming from one live Black Dragon, it delved deeper, more total, as if the core idea of the Black Dragon had been distilled and infused right into the building's core.
'It's alike, yet this aura packs more might and terror,' Max pondered, his face turning grave.
Such insight disturbed him deeply.
The Black Dragon from the Nine Dragons Painting had been genuine, a true entity capable of smashing lesser cultivators just by existing.
Nevertheless, the force radiating from this dome outweighed that prior clash. At first, it defied logic. What building, regardless of its enigmas, could unleash an aura eclipsing a living Black Dragon's might?
As Max advanced, the aura tested him, not through touch but on a profound plane. It grazed his bloodline, his essence, and the roots of his being, seemingly judging if he deserved to approach.
In that instant, he grasped that this wasn't mere brute force to dominate. It targeted bloodlines specifically, particularly those linked to dragon heritage.
Max scanned his surroundings.
The nearby disciples responded right away and visibly. Numerous slowed their pace, complexions draining as unseen burden weighed on them. A number gripped their hands tight, some ground their jaws, while others wobbled faintly like their knees could buckle.
They had no clue about the true nature of this threat. All they sensed was that an element within the dome held them down at their core, making their bloodlines drag, bind up, and grow ponderous.
The restraining power touched Max too.
He perceived it distinctly.
Yet for him, unlike the rest, it failed to overwhelm.
The binding energy pushed at his bloodline, only to clash against unbreakable defiance. His Black Dragon Chaotic Bloodline surged on reflex, holding steady like steadfast columns. Instead of sinking under the load, Max sensed himself facing a surging wave that couldn't fully engulf him.
To him, the force never became strangling.
It stayed as an aura.
A weighty, reverent vibe that called for honor, yet not submission.
Max comprehended right then that the restraint's lack of effect wasn't due to its feebleness. His bloodline simply overpowered it.
Before long, guided by Grand Elder Waller, the group of disciples stepped past the dome's entrance, and as their eyes adapted completely, an icy shudder gripped every back there.
Right in the heart of the expansive space sat the skull of a Black Dragon.
No meat. No hide. Just skeleton.
Even stripped to mere bones, its scale defied imagination.
That cranium dwarfed any peak, with its serrated teeth thrusting upward like bone spires, every one stretching beyond a town avenue. The orbital hollows formed bottomless chasms, vast and inscrutable, holding echoes of a stare that had commanded the skies long ago.
The bone's form blended savage power with grandeur, each crest and contour etched with the clear rule of an ultimate creature that had reigned supreme over all life.
Throats constricted among the disciples.
Devoid of orbs, the remains pulsed with vitality.
Unseen force streamed from the bone head in ceaseless surges, dense and smothering, slamming into their forms and bloodlines relentlessly. This wasn't a living essence, but a horror beyond. It embodied the enduring intent of a Black Dragon that had lorded over the Divine Realm, packed into remains and echoes, defying oblivion post-mortem.
The force grew fiercer per stride nearer.
Countless disciples' legs quaked as their bloodlines flared wildly, some surging against it while others cowered in dread. Breaths turned ragged, lungs heaving like the atmosphere had thickened into something rigid.
Certain cultivators suffered acute stabs in their centers, as though the skull's sheer vibe sought to grind their cultivation under heel.
The dome appeared built purely to hold back that vibe.
Old symbols shimmered softly on the barriers and roof, bolstering the frame, like they chained a power that could rip everything asunder otherwise. Absent those marks, the force by itself would surely pulverize frail cultivators in a flash.
Max lingered with the crowd, eyes riveted to the bone head.
Clarity dawned on him now.
This explained the aura's greater weight compared to the Nine Dragons Painting's Black Dragon. That one had lived, its strength held in check by body and intent.
But this cranium came from a Black Dragon that had ascended to boundless peaks prior to demise. Its resolve had merged with the corpse, making the skeleton a container for dominance and command.
Demise hadn't diminished it.
It merely removed the limits.
Instinct told the disciples this wasn't just an artifact. It proclaimed. It etched a warning into bone: the Black Dragon Clan had towered over everything once, and even beyond the grave, their supremacy endured unchallenged.