Just as the battle had begun with utter suddenness.
It ended just as abruptly.
With a loud bang, the white dragon flew backward like a broken kite, crashing heavily into the fleshy wall before slowly sliding down.
By now, the mutated old duke had turned into a terrifying flesh giant, a horrific and massive monster.
The very instant Christine charged forward, this fellow had fused with the mountain of flesh behind him, which was made of drow limbs and organs.
Only a single face remained exposed on the outside.
Serving as the brain of the entity.
Right now, a silver spear was impaled in this flesh giant. From the hideous, gaping wound torn open by the spear, severed limbs and internal organs spilled out.
Edliman paid no mind to his wound. He stared expressionlessly at Christine, who was collapsed on the ground, watching the white dragon struggle to stand back up.
A barely perceptible, sinister smile appeared on his exposed, mutated face.
He slowly pulled the silver spear out of his body and tossed it aside. With a sharp shuck, the spear narrowly missed the white dragon's side, embedding itself deep into the fleshy wall.
Staring at the silver spear beside him, Christine's pupils trembled violently.
Had he not dodged in time, that spear would have impaled his body.
“Weak, inferior lifeforms,” Edliman said mockingly, a trace of disdain flashing in his eyes.
Within moments, the hideous wound on his body was rapidly enveloped by twisting granulating tissue, healing completely.
Next, the mutated old duke turned his gaze toward Irene and her companions. He seemed to be in no hurry to kill his former enemies, nor the chief culprit who had caused the downfall of his kingdom.
Instead, a sinister grin spread across his face.
In the next instant.
A continuous series of strange noises suddenly echoed from above.
Everyone looked up to see massive, bizarre monsters raining down from the various passages above.
They fell like dumplings into a pot.
Their bodies were twisted and deformed, covered in spikes and fangs, emitting a sickening stench.
Their appearance made the already tense atmosphere even more oppressive and terrifying.
The monsters plunged into the pool of blood, sending up massive splashes. Then, like a rising tide, they crawled out of the pool, their red-gleaming eyes filled with a hideous hunger for flesh.
Facing this scene, Irene calmly observed her surroundings.
Her expression was calm—frighteningly calm.
She noticed Arthas letting go of Laya's hand and drawing Frostmourne, preparing for a fight to the death.
She noticed Lucia's body rapidly shifting, seemingly preparing to reveal her true form. However, unlike Arthas's resolute and unyielding expression, there was a trace of hesitation on Lucia's draconic face.
Suddenly, a violent rushing sound tore through the air.
Irene snapped back to reality and looked ahead, only to see a thick tentacle hurtling toward her like a bolt of lightning.
Edliman, in the end, could not resist making his move.
“It is time to end this.”
A soft murmur escaped Irene's lips.
It sounded as though she was talking to herself.
Yet even as she spoke, the space in front of her suddenly rippled.
Space warped, and a massive portal forged from twisted space slowly emerged.
“I—Emperor Daviel!”
A massive, scale-covered claw suddenly reached out of the portal, easily catching the incoming tentacle.
Immediately following, with a sharp crack, the tentacle was crushed to pieces, instantly turning into countless fragments of shredded flesh that splattered onto the ground.
At this sight, the previously hesitant Lucia showed a look of astonishment. She stared at Irene and the slowly expanding portal in disbelief.
Meanwhile, a tall, imposing figure slowly stepped out of the portal. His entire body was covered in thick scales that looked as if they were forged from steel.
“Shall crush all enemies!!!”
Only then did the second half of the sentence resound through the space like a clap of thunder, sending wave after wave of echoes rippling through the air.
Rate on N.U.
