Mystic Calling:Stone of Glory -
Chapter 339: Vorundar, you’ve crossed the line!
Chapter 339: Vorundar, you’ve crossed the line!
The sheer scale of the slaughter was staggering. Even Seraphina, who had already undergone her second awakening, leveled up again from the carnage. With the level-up, her condition began to recover slightly—not quite back to her peak, but her health had climbed back to around 60 or 70 percent.
"ROOOAAARRR!"
Seraphina let out a thunderous, earth-shaking roar.
The thrill of the kill.
The rush of growing stronger.
It sent a wave of euphoria surging through her.
But just then—
Something changed.
A sudden, chilling whisper, like it came straight from the depths of hell, echoed through the air:
"Withering Breath!"
The voice was low, demonic, and full of malice. At the same time, Seraphina’s instincts screamed danger. She reacted instantly, trying to dodge.
"BOOM!"
But even with her quick reflexes, she was a split second too late.
Just as she was about to leap away, a massive, terrifying wave of dark energy exploded into existence. It was pure decay—an overwhelming force of withering darkness that defied description. It ignited violently, crashing into her with devastating power.
"BANG!"
It was like she’d been hit by a missile. Seraphina was blasted backward, her body flung through the air like a ragdoll. She slammed into the ocean below with a deafening crash, sending a towering wave surging skyward, shaking the earth and sky. The impact was enough to make anyone watching go numb with shock.
"Ahhh—!"
A scream tore through the air.
Ethan’s face went pale. His heart dropped. Without hesitation, he shot into the sky and raced toward the spot where Seraphina had fallen.
"Seraphina! Are you okay?!"
"I... I’m fine..." came a weak, trembling voice.
Seraphina slowly rose from the water’s surface, but when Ethan saw her, his pupils shrank in horror. A storm of fury erupted in his eyes, dark and violent.
There was a massive, gaping hole in Seraphina’s back—blackened and grotesque.
The attack had punched straight through her. Blood poured from the wound, but it wasn’t red anymore. It had turned pitch black, tainted by the dark energy still clinging to her like a parasite. The sight was enough to make your skin crawl.
...
And worse—far worse—the dark energy hadn’t dissipated after the blast. It was still there, festering in the wound, eating away at her from the inside like maggots burrowing into flesh.
"Who... Who the hell did this?!"
"Show yourself!"
Ethan’s voice thundered across the battlefield, his rage boiling over as he roared into the sky.
"VMMM!"
At that moment, the air above them twisted and tore open. A black rift split the sky, and from it emerged a colossal figure—towering, divine, and utterly terrifying.
A Shadow Dragon.
Its body was massive, easily over 300 feet tall, cloaked in darkness so thick it seemed to swallow the light around it. It descended slowly, landing exactly where Seraphina had stood moments ago, its presence alone radiating a suffocating, soul-crushing pressure.
It was like a creature ripped straight from myth—a god of death and shadow.
The air turned cold. Everyone watching felt their skin crawl, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
"Dungeon King Vorundar!"
"All hail Dungeon King Vorundar!"
"The Dungeon King has arrived! Victory is ours!"
The Dungeon Lords were the first to react, their faces lighting up with crazed excitement. They shouted in unison, their voices filled with fanatic devotion.
"Master, that’s the Dungeon King..." Seraphina said weakly, forcing herself forward, teeth clenched in pain. She stepped in front of Ethan, shielding him with her body.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. His expression turned grim.
Dungeon King?
So that’s it... That bastard—Dungeon King Vorundar—he’s actually here?!
[Vorundar]
One of the Dungeon Kings
Gender: Male
Level: 81
Race: Shadow Dragon
Tier: Crimson Ultimate Hero
Divine Rank: Greater Deity (Lesser Deity: 55–70, Intermediate Deity: 70–80, Greater Deity: 80–95...)
HP: 130,000
Physical Damage: 911–1321
Magic Damage: 1411–1533
Hero Skills: Master Armorer, Master Offense, Master Resistance...
Hero Talents:
Dread Presence (Chance to instill fear in enemies, reducing their combat effectiveness by 20% or even breaking their will to fight)
Heart of Darkness (Dark-element magic damage increased by 100%)
Withering Breath (Unleashes a terrifying stream of dark energy that continuously damages enemies until death; dissipates only when purified)
Battle Frenzy (Maintains a constant state of peak battle readiness, combat power locked at 110%)
Disciple of Malassa (30% stat boost when fighting dark-aligned creatures; 10% damage bonus against light-aligned beings)
Dark Realm...
Overall Rating: Crimson Ultimate Hero, Grade C (23%)
Gulp.
Even though Ethan was seething with rage over Seraphina’s injuries, the moment he laid eyes on Vorundar’s stat panel, his pupils shrank involuntarily.
It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.
He swallowed hard.
And fell silent.
Level 81 Crimson Ultimate Hero?
A Greater Deity?
Over thirteen hundred base damage—and up to fifteen hundred in magic?
So this... this is what a true Dungeon King is capable of?
He’s a monster...
Honestly, just looking at those numbers made it hard for Ethan to breathe.
"Vorundar, you’ve crossed the line!"
Suddenly, a voice like a low, ancient whisper echoed from deep within Sylvanwood.
BOOM!
In the next instant, the clouds above were torn apart as a colossal Green Dragon emerged from the mist, its massive claws slashing down toward Vorundar with terrifying force.
Vorundar’s expression darkened. He clearly didn’t take the threat lightly—but he didn’t back down either. With a roar, he lashed out with his own claw, wreathed in a swirling mass of pitch-black energy.
CRASH!
The two dragons collided midair, and the sky itself seemed to shatter from the impact.
A massive black void tore open in the heavens, swirling with chaotic energy—but even more shocking was what happened next:
Vorundar—Dungeon King, Greater Deity, Crimson Ultimate Hero—was sent flying.
Blasted backward like a ragdoll.
"Holy shit...!" Ethan gasped, eyes wide.
And right then, another stat panel flickered into view before Ethan’s eyes—this time, it belonged to that terrifying Green Dragon.
[Thandor Virelen Wyrmkyn]
An ancient King-tier powerhouse of the Forest faction,
Currently in a weakened state
Gender: Male
Level: 86
Race: Green Dragon
Tier: Crimson Ultimate Hero
Divine Rank: Greater Deity (55–70: Lesser Deity, 70–80: Intermediate Deity, 80–95: Greater Deity...)
...
Overall Rating: Crimson Ultimate Hero, Grade B (59%)
"Thandor! You decrepit old fossil—you really think you can still fight? Are you trying to die?!" Vorundar roared, his voice a guttural snarl, face twisted with fury.
Thandor’s expression didn’t change. Calm, cold, and unwavering, he stared Vorundar down. "Even if I’m just a pile of old bones, I’m still more than enough to kill you. Wanna test that theory?"
"You—!" Vorundar trembled with rage, his entire body shaking—but he didn’t move.
Because he knew.
If he could beat Thandor, he would’ve done it already. No hesitation, no second thoughts. But the truth was—he couldn’t.
That’s why he’d been holding back all this time, avoiding a full-scale assault.
But as the battle dragged on and the tide started to shift, he’d finally lost his patience and struck. He’d gone all in, aiming to take Seraphina out in one blow.
And he’d failed.
That failure gnawed at him like acid. Because if Seraphina survived... then this war? The Dungeon faction was as good as finished.
"Keep going... Don’t stop! Kill them all!" Ethan suddenly shouted, voice sharp and commanding.
He was already burning with rage—and now, seeing that even a Dungeon King like Vorundar couldn’t take down Thandor? That just poured gasoline on the fire. He needed an outlet, and this was it.
"Kill them! Wipe them out!" Ethan snarled, his face twisted with fury, voice cold as ice.
The wound on Seraphina’s back still haunted him—every time he looked at it, it felt like a blade twisting in his chest.
And the only way to make it right... was with blood. Their blood. Their screams.
Whoosh!
Before his words had even fully left his mouth, Cicero was already moving—first to strike.
He was surrounded on all sides by Red Dragons, Shadow Dragons, and Black Dragons. But the chaos from Thandor’s sudden appearance had thrown them off. Their focus was shattered, their formation sloppy.
And Cicero saw his chance.
"Sacred Realm—activate!"
"Venomous Dragon Breath—burn them all to ash!"
Normally calm and composed, Cicero now looked like a man possessed—eyes blazing, voice thunderous.
He didn’t strike often. But when he did—it was cataclysmic.
In a single instant, the divine might of Sacred Realm and the corrosive fury of Venomous Dragon Breath exploded outward in tandem.
The blast radius? Miles. Tens of miles.
Everything within range—anything weaker than a Black Dragon—was obliterated on the spot. No resistance. No survivors.
Even the Black Dragons, with their innate magic immunity, weren’t spared. The sheer divine force of Sacred Realm tore through their defenses, leaving them battered, broken, and barely clinging to life.
Dragons might be immune to magic—but against god-tier divine power?
They were nothing.
Paper-thin. Helpless.
Meaningless.
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