Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory
Chapter 414: That’s insane

Chapter 414: That’s insane

"You knew I was coming and still had the nerve to zone out? What, am I that easy to ignore...? You filthy, worthless bastards..."

The voice came from behind them—calm, cold, and laced with contempt. In the next instant, a surge of Sacred Realm energy exploded outward, and Cicero’s figure materialized behind them like a phantom.

In that moment, both Manticore Rhazgor and Manticore Vorgath froze in place, their bodies going rigid.

Their eyes widened, emotions churning—shock, fear, disbelief.

BOOM!

Cicero struck.

A dragon claw lashed out with terrifying force.

"GRAAAHH!!"

A massive tail, slick with blood, was sent flying through the air. Rhazgor’s scream followed immediately after. Just one casual swipe—one—and Cicero had torn his body apart like paper.

The difference in power was staggering.

This wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.

"I’m gonna kill you!" Vorgath roared, losing it completely after witnessing his comrade’s brutal end.

He lunged at Cicero with everything he had—claws, tail, even his fangs—slashing and biting in a frenzy. But it was like attacking a mountain with a toothpick. Nothing landed. Nothing mattered.

SPLAT!

Cicero slammed Rhazgor’s mangled body into the ground with one hand, pinning him like a bug underfoot. He looked down at him with utter disdain, eyes full of mockery, not even bothering to dodge Vorgath’s attacks.

Instead, he tilted his head back—and then snapped it forward, unleashing a blast of dragon breath straight from hell.

In that instant, a torrent of venomous, magical energy erupted from his mouth. The ground lit up with a blinding, searing light, so intense it was impossible to look at.

And then...

There was nothing.

No more Rhazgor. No more Vorgath.

Cicero’s innate skill—Venomous Dragon Breath—had annihilated them both in a single breath. Not just killed. Melted. Erased. Not even a corpse left behind.

Ethan, watching from a distance, twitched at the corner of his mouth, then let out a low whistle.

"...Damn. That’s insane."

Sure, those two Manticores were only Tier 11, but they were still orange-ranked Legendary heroes—one level 71, the other 73. Not exactly pushovers.

And yet?

Instant kill.

Total, effortless, humiliating instant kill.

What was that, five seconds? Maybe?

They never stood a chance.

Ethan hadn’t fully grasped how powerful Cicero really was until now. But now? Now he got it.

This guy was on a whole different level.

And the craziest part? Cicero hadn’t even tapped into his Sacred Realm powers. He’d done all that with pure physical combat—just brute strength and raw skill.

Which meant... that wasn’t even his full power.

Ethan narrowed his eyes, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Maelthorak... looks like your luck’s about to run out."

The stronger Cicero got, the slimmer Maelthorak’s chances of survival became. Ethan didn’t care what kind of monster Maelthorak was—he was almost done assembling three Crimson Ultimate heroes, all post-second awakening.

If that wasn’t enough to win, then what the hell was?

No way. This time, they were taking him down.

Just then, a familiar chime echoed in Ethan’s ears—a system notification he hadn’t heard in a while.

Ding!

"Congratulations, Player Valkarion. Your Hero Unit, Green Dragon Cicero, has reached Level 60!"

"He leveled up?!" Ethan blinked, then broke into a grin.

That just made their odds even better.

Meanwhile, with the two Manticore heroes obliterated, Cicero didn’t slow down for a second. He flipped the switch straight into massacre mode. Just two or three wide-range blasts of Venomous Dragon Breath, and the entire Dungeon faction army—once a dark, seething mass—was wiped clean off the battlefield.

It was faster than mowing a lawn.

"Damn... didn’t even get another level out of that," Ethan muttered under his breath, half amused, half annoyed.

Classic greedy bastard.

"We’re done here, Master!"

With a shimmer of space, Cicero blinked into view beside Ethan, glancing down at the scorched, ruined land beneath his feet with a hint of frustration. "Shame about this place... Guess this is the best it can be. Ugh, whatever—might as well fix it up a bit."

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, Cicero spread his wings and shot into the sky.

Then, with a sharp turn, he dove straight down toward the charred wasteland below.

RUMMMMMMBLE...

At the same time, a massive surge of magical energy burst from his body, spreading outward like a tidal wave. Then—like a sudden downpour—it began to rain.

But this wasn’t ordinary rain.

As the magical droplets hit the ground, they didn’t just extinguish the lingering flames of Black Dragon and Red Dragon breath—they did something far more incredible.

From the scorched earth, tiny green shoots began to sprout.

Saplings burst forth, swaying in the wind, growing at an unnatural speed under the influence of Cicero’s magic. In just moments, the entire battlefield transformed—lush, vibrant, alive.

A dense, thriving forest now stood where devastation had reigned.

"Now that’s way better than before..." Ethan murmured, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the scene.

If this was what beauty looked like... then he’d have to work even harder to protect it.

At the very least, as long as he had the power, he’d make damn sure the Holy Griffon Empire survived.

"Alright, let’s move. But Cicero—if you spot any more of them, don’t wait. Just go in and wipe them out. We’re already here, no point in dragging it out."

"Yes, my noble, merciful, and ever-kind Master!" Cicero replied with a dramatic flourish, clearly enjoying himself.

...

But that same mercy—Ethan’s impulsive kindness—would soon come at a cost.

Because of it, he and Cicero had unknowingly revealed themselves far too early... and now, three King-tier powerhouses from the Inferno and Dungeon factions had taken notice.

Far away, in the heart of a molten lake, a massive Red Dragon lay submerged in lava, radiating an overwhelming magical pressure. The heat was so intense that nothing dared approach for miles.

"Green Dragon...?"

A low, guttural growl rumbled from the Red Dragon’s throat.

"Hmph. Those soft, leafy little herbivores... Should’ve stayed tucked away in AvLee where they belong. Coming here to die? That takes guts."

The dragon’s voice was harsh, violent, dripping with disdain. He lifted one of his massive claws, and molten lava dripped from his talons, sizzling as it punched holes into the already scorched ground below.

He stared at his claw, admiring it like a work of art—like a weapon he couldn’t wait to use.

"Heh... hahahahaha..."

"Stupid little grass-eaters. If I catch you, I’ll tear you apart with these claws of mine! The great and mighty Ashendar will be your eternal nightmare! Hahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!"

His laughter echoed across the land, shaking the very air with its fury.

"You really are full of yourself, Ashendar..."

A smooth, mocking voice cut through the heat. Space shimmered above the blistering ground, and a figure emerged—an Inferno Devil, elegant and wicked, stepping into the scene like he owned it.

"Hm?"

Ashendar’s monstrous eyes narrowed.

He turned his gaze toward the newcomer, his massive head lowering, closing the distance between them in an instant. Now, they were barely thirty feet apart.

Ashendar raised his head again, his voice cold and sharp as steel. "You guys are seriously annoying. Don’t forget whose territory this is... Baelthar."

...