Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100 Chapter 1421 Corpse of Black Dragon!
Previously on Dimensional Keeper: All My Skills Are at Level 100...
The instant the aura fully bore down upon him, a profound shudder coursed through Max's body and spirit, like an age-old entity had fixed its attention on him. Though his breaths stayed even, his heart pounded hard once as awareness hit him squarely.
'This pressure and aura belong to the Black Dragon,' Max mused inwardly, his mind honing in sharply.
He'd sensed a comparable force in the past.
Memories dragged his thoughts to Obsidian Dragon City and the Nine Dragons Painting, into that immense depicted realm where he'd confronted a genuine Black Dragon.
During that time, the force had overwhelmed with raw, commanding might, an essence that compelled awe and terror from all creatures in its path. That presence had burned itself into his recollection so profoundly that confusion with anything else was impossible.
However, the sensation enveloping him at this moment varied.
Alike in essence, yet much more intense.
With Max concentrating on the aura surging from the dome, a cold shiver traced his back. The crushing vibe seemed even more fearsome and choking, bearing the weight of endless ages' power.
This wasn't the vibe from one alive Black Dragon, but a profound, ultimate essence, as if the Black Dragon's very idea had been distilled and infused right into the edifice.
'It's alike, but this aura packs more might and terror,' Max reflected, his face turning grave.
Such insight disturbed him deeply.
The Black Dragon from the Nine Dragons Painting had been authentic, a real entity whose mere being could subdue lesser cultivators effortlessly.
Still, the force radiating from this dome weighed more than that clash. At first, it defied logic. How might an edifice, regardless of its enigma, unleash a vibe exceeding a living Black Dragon's?
Advancing onward, Max sensed the aura testing him, not in body but on a core level. It grazed his lineage, his essence, and his being's roots, seemingly judging his fitness to approach it.
In that instant, he grasped that this wasn't mere brute overpowering. It targeted lineages specifically, particularly those linked to dragon roots.
Max looked about him.
Disciples nearby reacted swiftly and visibly. Numerous ones lagged in their pace, faces draining of color under the unseen burden. Some gripped their hands tight, others ground their jaws, and several wobbled as though their stance might fail.
They grasped nothing of the true nature. All they knew was some power within the dome restrained them at their core, making their lineages sluggish, bound, and burdensome.
The restraint touched Max too.
He perceived it distinctly.
Yet for him, unlike the rest, it failed to overwhelm.
The restraining might clashed with his lineage, only to encounter steadfast opposition. His Black Dragon Chaotic Bloodline surged back on reflex, solid as unshakeable supports. Instead of sinking under the load, Max stood like against a surging wave that couldn't fully engulf him.
To him, that force avoided becoming strangling.
It stayed as a vibe.
A weighty, reverent essence that called for honor, but not submission.
Max then comprehended it wasn't due to feeble restraint. His lineage simply overpowered it.
Shortly after, guided by Grand Elder Waller, the disciples passed into the dome, and as their sight cleared, an icy shudder gripped everyone there.
Right in the heart of the expansive space rested a Black Dragon's skull.
No meat. No hide. Just skeleton.
Even stripped to bare bones, its scale defied imagination.
That cranium dwarfed peaks, its sharp teeth jutting like bone spires, each surpassing a urban avenue in length. The orbital hollows yawned as endless pits, profound and mysterious, holding echoes of a stare that once commanded the skies.
The bone's form blended ferocity and grandeur, each line and contour etched with the clear supremacy of a pinnacle being from existence's top.
Disciples' throats constricted.
Lacking eyes, the skull pulsed with vitality.
Endless surges of unseen force emanated from the bone head, dense and smothering, slamming into their forms and lineages relentlessly. This arose not from vitality, but something far more horrifying. It marked the enduring intent of a Black Dragon that once lorded over the Divine Realm, forged into bone and echo, defying oblivion post-mortem.
Intensity mounted with each advance.
Plenty of disciples' legs quaked as their lineages flared wildly, some surging against it while others recoiled in dread. Breaths turned ragged, torsos heaving like the atmosphere had thickened to solidity.
Some practitioners even suffered stabbing aches in their centers, as the skull's mere vibe sought to shatter their cultivation base.
The dome appeared built just to hold that vibe.
Faint ancient symbols shimmered on walls and roof, bolstering the build, like they caged a power that could otherwise rip everything asunder. Absent those marks, the force surely would pulverize frail cultivators on contact.
Max positioned himself with the group, eyes fixed on the bone head.
Clarity dawned now.
This explained the aura's greater weight than the Nine Dragons Painting's Black Dragon. That one lived, its strength curbed by shape and intent.
Yet this cranium came from a Black Dragon that ascended to inconceivable peaks ere demise. Its intent merged with the corpse, rendering the skeleton a container of dominance and command.
Demise hadn't diminished it.
Death merely removed limits.
Instinct told the disciples this transcended a mere artifact. It proclaimed a truth. A bone-inscribed warning that the Black Dragon Clan towered over all once, and even postmortem, their rule endured unchallenged.