Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 879 - 472: Dragon’s Battle (Part 2)

When two colossal beasts tear and tangle at the center of the battlefield, the earth no longer maintains a stable form.

The dark gold blood scattered by August on the surface suddenly shines, transforming into chains of burning red, coiling upward, invading internally along Mammon’s biting path.

Mammon increases its magnetic output, its crystal surface flickering madly, attempting to crush the invading foreign matter inside.

The two forces collide head-on internally, causing a secondary collapse on the surface as the rock layers are compressed into irregular folds.

Amid this chaos, five thousand dark red figures sprint out along the crevices and faults, their speed pushed to the limit within seconds.

Scales and the surface friction create short sparks, yet their steps are consistent, spacing precise, the whole legion resembling a frontline compressed to the extreme.

The dragon blood scattered by August draws dark gold trails in the air, like burning chains guiding their path.

As they approach, the Dragon Guard begins to climb.

Hundreds of figures leap simultaneously, landing on Mammon’s diamond body of thousands of meters long.

To this pseudo-dragon, these existences are so insignificant they can be nearly ignored, insufficient to draw attention.

Until the first dragon bone spear pierces the crystal surface gap.

This is no random attack.

The Dragon Guard share the old Emperor’s perspective through a bloodline link.

The spear tip accurately wedges into the smallest misalignment of the crystal structure, sliding into the fissure.

Dozens of Dragon Guard exert force simultaneously, their fighting energy bursting forth, as they mercilessly cut their own scales.

Dark red blood flows along the spear shafts, resonating with the dark gold dragon blood, forcibly amplifying the power.

Ear-piercing cracking sounds echo successively.

Those gigantic diamond plates, capable of resisting forbidden curses, are pried loose piece by piece.

Mammon begins to roll in agony.

The magnetic field shakes violently, trying to fling off these intruders.

The crystal surface sparks eye-piercingly, the earth rupturing in response.

Some Dragon Guard under close energy recoil have their scales explode, their figures lose control, directly flung off the body and fall into the surging ravine below.

But more Dragon Guard remain firmly anchored.

Their limbs embed into the crystal surface, spears penetrate structural nodes, their bodies emitting muffled bone creaks amidst the tremors, yet none let go.

August sees this.

Mammon’s giant mouth still firmly bites his flank, tearing the dark gold scales, dragon blood continually dripping.

But he does not struggle free; instead, he deliberately turns his head, letting the fangs pierce deeper.

He lets out a low laugh.

The laughter emanates from his chest, not sharp but with a kind of arrogance, as if mocking a long-flawed object that finally reveals a flaw.

He gazes directly into those lifeless diamond eyes, speaking slowly and clearly:

"Can you feel it? The weight you pride in, your traction, the power you’ve devoured..."

Dark gold blood slides down his scales, sparking small flames in the air.

"Now, all nourishment for the Emperor."

Under August’s gaze, the Dragon Guard completes the final prying.

Mammon’s chest is forcibly opened.

The Federation-proud "physical immunity" defense, like shelled ore, scatters on the ground.

The dazzling core within, almost too bright to look at, is fully exposed to the air.

August speaks lowly: "You are strong but before my will, not even a speck of dust."

The moment his voice falls, all suppression vanishes.

August suddenly tightens his broken dragon wings, locking Mammon’s neck firmly.

His right claw shines, claws penetrating the chest.

"Roar——!!!"

A booming scream expands, as if the entire continent is struck with a heavy hammer.

August slowly retracts his arm.

In his claws, he holds a massive core.

Mammon begins to collapse, its body spanning thousands of meters rapidly losing structural support.

The once transparent diamond loses its luster, turning into gray waste mineral.

The mountain-like body disintegrates within seconds, the rising dust covering half the Imperial Capital.

August stands atop the corpse remains, directly swallowing the core.

Golden light bursts forth.

The broken dragon wing instantaneously reassembles, wounds disappear, aura transitions completed.

The scattered diamond fragments are drawn into the air, instantly forged in high-temperature dragon breath, adhering outside the dark gold scales, forming a new outer structure.

A fully evolved dark gold dragon body stands amidst the ruins.

August ignores the collapsing Imperial Capital beneath him.

In fact, that wasteland didn’t even linger in his sight for a moment.

His anger is surging.

These ants daring to desecrate the dragon’s authority, a fake god piled together with money and scheming, has wasted so much of his time.

He doesn’t even glance back at the third of the Dragon-man Guard Army slain.

In his eyes, this war is long over; it’s time to settle accounts with those backstage pests.

August raises his dragon head, unleashing a roar carrying pure fury into the sky.

Dark gold wings suddenly flap.

The dragon body directly breaks the sound barrier, the air roughly parted.

Due to the speed, vacuum shock waves crush downward, instantly overturning and ripping the forests on the ground.

The dark gold figure transforms into a lightning bolt piercing the sky, not slowing at all.

His wrath finds the next host.

Crossing the border, the city built upon wealth, Crystal Rock City has entered his killing intent range.

......

The lights in the council chamber at the top of the floating island remain bright.

Under the crystal dome, the directors of the seven guilds suddenly gathered around the round table.

Clement, the Speaker, swirled his wine glass and glanced at the crowd, "Don’t get too excited. Although the Empire’s resistance is like a mantis trying to stop a cart, we should still give them some respect."

Everyone chuckled, as if they had heard a funny joke.

"I bet five million magic stones," Clement said casually, "three minutes, it won’t last any longer than that, the so-called glory of the Empire might just last that long."

One director laughed and added, "Three minutes is too conservative. The walls are still made of old metal and broken stone, I give it two and a half."

Another shook his head, "Two and a half is unrealistic. Mamon needs time for complete devouring, and cleaning up debris. Or it will affect the purity of recovery."

Laughter spread around the table.

Someone noted an entry in the ledger, someone raised a glass in salute, and others had already started discussing how to divide the warehouses and population quotas of the Imperial Capital after the battle.

In their context, it was not the end of a nation, but earnings already entering the settlement process.

Suddenly, the music stopped.

The musician in charge of accompaniment paused, looking down at his fingers.

Blood was oozing from his fingertips, several alchemy strings silently snapped, as if being pulled to the limit by some invisible force.

Before he could speak, the red wine on the table ceased to swirl.

The liquid detached itself from the glass wall, slowly floated upward, and condensed into blood-red beads in the air.

A director frowned and instinctively looked up, "...Why has the sky darkened?"

Outside the dome, the starry sky disappeared.

Instead, there was a thick, cold, dark golden scale covering the entire sky.

A gigantic dragon eye slowly descended.

Golden flames swirled in the pupils, illuminating every face in the chamber pale.

Those eyes, once filled with Gold Coins and ledgers, now were left with nothing but fear.

Clement was the first to react.

He suddenly stood up, fingers trembling, initiating the highest defense array.

The dome and walls simultaneously lit up with complex runes, encasing the chamber in layers of shields.

"Great Dragon Race!" His voice lost its usual composure, "I am the Speaker of the Jade Federation! We possess half of the world’s wealth! We can act on your behalf, just name your price..."

Before he finished speaking, a voice was already resonating within the bones of everyone present.

"Name a price?" The voice was deep and calm, yet impossible to ignore, "Your so-called wealth, is nothing but crumbs that slipped through my fingers while I slept."

The chamber fell into dead silence.

"You dare use my crumbs to buy your lives from me?"

Anger took shape in that instant.

It wasn’t rage, but complete contempt.

To August, the true sin of these merchants was not greed, but the audacity to sit at a negotiation table with a god using money.

The dark gold claw descended, ripping open the supposedly unbreakable composite shield as if it were a piece of waste paper.

The dome shattered, a whirlwind poured in, ledgers, antiques, platters, and wine glasses were swept into the air, turning into falling fragments amidst screams.

Isabella screamed, activating the teleportation array.

Just as the light flared, a wisp of dragon breath descended.

Her body abruptly stiffened in mid-air, skin, clothes, bones were plated with a thick layer of pure gold in an instant.

The unbalanced statue fell from the floating island’s edge.

Moments later, a dull crash emanated from the slum below.

Golden shards splattered, embedding into the streets along with flesh.

And Clement hadn’t stepped back yet when a dragon toe already pressed against his chest.

"Since you love magic stones so," August’s voice was as cold as metal, "I shall satisfy you."

Clement opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

His blood began to crystallize.

Translucent clusters of high-purity magic stones pierced through his skin, growing, branching, penetrating bones.

The agony lasted but a short time before consciousness was completely submerged.

Moments later, the human form had disappeared.

In its place was a gem flower composed of blood-red crystals, standing quietly at the center of the shattered chamber.

August did not stop, the small-scale slaughter did not appease his anger.

He raised his head, roared a sound that shook the entire continent.

The dragon body continued to expand, fueled by the core of greed, dark golden scales filled the view.

August wasn’t in a rush to end it all, he hovered high in the sky, coldly overlooking Crystal Rock City as one would inspect a precious artifact awaiting disassembly.

In the next half-day, the Jade Federation met its true reckoning.

Towers fell, streets collapsed, fleeing crowds scattered under the dark golden shadow, unable to find an exit.

As the last light curtain fell, the city finally lost its original shape.

Streets, towers, workshops, and still-struggling lives were all engulfed in dark golden molten streams.

Having ended it all, August had lost interest in staying.

Slowly he rose, dark golden scales grating against the plateau with a low sound.

The dragon eye turned east, towards the direction where the Empire’s old territory stretched, and the land he personally left behind yet trampled by mortals.

"Time to reclaim it."

This statement wasn’t a declaration, but more of a confirmation of reality.

Next moment, wings unfolded.

The wind pressure swept across the dark golden plateau, lifting stones and mineral dust simultaneously.

August soared, his dragon body tearing through the clouds, heading east.

Everything temporarily overseen by mortals was to be reclaimed.

Under his will, a nation founded on the dragon’s brilliance was about to take shape.

Not a return to the Old Empire, but an erasure of all past, a divine kingdom molded by his own hands.

Let this world finally realize... the one true Emperor has returned.