Grand Dad Is The Pervert God
Chapter 177: No Need For More

Chapter 177: No Need For More

...Violet’s voice rang through her tent, sharp and furious, echoing off the canvas like the snarl of a beast cornered.

"They’re all useless!" she bellowed. "All of them! The so-called noble families of the Almace Kingdom—weak! Spineless! Not one with strength worthy of battle!"

The flames from the brazier danced behind her, flickering in rhythm with her rising soul energy. Her hand was still on the hilt of her blade, fingers twitching.

In truth, she was not one to mind these people. But she had to admit after studying the orb. That need for more power was necessary if she had to explore the dungeon.

If not for any other reason, then for canon fodder.

She had come with troops, but those were men and women she had fought along side for many years.

She was popularly known to be heartless, but definitely not to her own people.

Luke was not trust worthy. All she was left with were the other noble families.

Then again, it was not that they were not good. It was just that Violet’s standards were too high.

She herself was an incredible genius. She was barely nineteen of age, but she had achieved so much power that would take many decades of their lives.

At the same time, she was doing this for a greater good. She really needed to get the yellow anchor stone. She needed to get it for someone she loved.

Just then... footsteps.

Soft. Intentional.

A figure stepped through the entrance of the tent without warning, as if he’d been there all along. Cloaked in black, masked in something crude and jagged. There was no announcement, no presence declared—only being. And it was enough.

Violet’s back remained turned, but her eyes narrowed.

"Get out," she said flatly. "I’ve had my fill of bullying the weak today."

But the figure didn’t leave.

Instead, he took one light step forward—and with that step, the air changed.

It pressed down on her soul.

Not just weight, but pressure.

This was pure alpha presence.

Like standing beneath a stormcloud so vast, the sky felt like it would crack.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She spun on instinct, her sword drawn in a defensive arc as though expecting death in the very next breath.

The man before her stood still.

Dressed head to toe in black, with a long coat that shifted slightly with each breeze. The mask was rough, almost grotesque, carved without beauty or craftsmanship. And yet... something about him radiated a purifying force. Something ancient. Clean.

What disturbed her most was that she could feel his cultivation.

He was below her.

A stage lower. Tenth soul Apostle. She was Eleventh soul Apostle.

The distance may not seem much, but it was. Every progressive rank of power only became harder as it grew.

After a while, the next rank might feel like the distance between heaven and earth.

It was just that great of a gulf.

Meaning that she was by far stronger.

Yet, her heart whispered warnings. Warnings not based on logic or rank, but something primal. He was wrong. Not in weakness—but in origin. The energy that emanated from him didn’t pollute the air like most fighters. It cleansed it.

It was unnatural.

She lowered her sword slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you? And what family do you represent?"

The question surprised her even as she said it.

She had attacked nobles without asking names. Shut down legacy warriors with a scoff. Yet, for the first time tonight—she asked.

The masked man tilted his head slightly. Then replied, his voice low and rich with amusement.

"They call me the Black Lightning Dragon."

Violet scoffed. "Oh?" she said. "You mean the one who humiliated theroyal family’s Silver Knights?"

She studied him again, this time more carefully. She had heard of a masked figure—slippery, brutal, clever—who outwitted and escaped a detachment of the royal family’s elite. She had laughed when she first heard it. Now... she wondered.

She stepped back, raising the glowing orb—the dungeon map—and clipped it to her side. Her violet eyes gleamed with challenge.

"Well then," she said, smiling wickedly. "You have my attention. Try not to disappoint me."

And then she moved.

Like lightning from a clear sky, she kicked off the ground with explosive force, swinging her massive sword downward in a savage arc aimed to split Eros from skull to groin.

But Eros ducked under, smooth as oil sliding beneath a blade.

As she flew past him, her legs spread briefly in mid-air. His eyes looked right in-between her legs. Eros even yook a quick sniff as they spread above him.

Sniff Sniff.

She landed with a hard thud, already pivoting for a follow-up strike—but paused as she noticed him on the other side of the tent, entirely untouched.

Then... he shook his head.

"clean smell. But...No fat booty," he said, voice full of disappointment.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Violet’s eyes dropped.

Down to the hem of her armored skirt.

And she understood.

Rage unlike anything that had passed through her all night ignited in her chest.

Her soul energy exploded. Her aura flared like a bonfire catching dry oilcloth. The tent shuddered under the sudden release of power.

Such pressure shoumd already make one that was of a lower rank than her fall to his knees, but Eros was just too abnormal.

Violet entered a full combat stance, face twisted in fury. Her violet hair flared out like a lion’s mane, wrapping around her greatsword in a spiral—alive, snarling, hungry.

Eros didn’t flinch. He simply adjusted his footing. Still not attacking.

Still dodging.

Still infuriating.

Every slash she threw missed. Every leap was predicted. Every roar was answered with that infuriating calm. It wasn’t that he was untouchable. It was that he made being untouchable look easy.

Violet’s frustration boiled over.

No matter what she did, she could not land a single hit—and the worst part? She could feel him smirking behind that hideous mask.

The footwork was insane. Every move he made left a dozen mirage-like afterimages. He glided.

Danced. Vanished.

And then, her violet hair coiled tighter around her blade, glowing now with soul-infused fury. Her violet pupils narrowed to pinpricks.

"Oh," Eros said casually, dodging another bone-breaking strike with a backward tilt. "....hmmm, is that A bloodline ability? Too bad, you will not be needing it."

He raised a hand, there was something in his hand.