Reborn As A Evil Dragon

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From every corner of the body, power surged into his colossal body. His scales gleamed brighter than ever, pulsing with ancient lines long forgotten by mortal scholars. His aura ballooned outward like a collapsing star—dense, crushing, eternal.

Boom.

The fourth legendary tier shattered beneath his feet, as if it had never been an obstacle at all.

Boom.

The middle stage, the late stage, even the pinnacle—crumbled like rotten wood.

Boom!

The fifth legendary tier rose before him—and he devoured it.

Still, he rose higher.

Hundreds of legendary-level familiars.

Thousands of master-class elites.

Tens of thousands of high-ranked warriors.

Millions of intermediate cultivators.

All gone. All fed to their god.

Black Wing Lair, once a bastion of might that had threatened empires, seas, and the very main continent of Tal, was now a ghost.

A willing sacrifice.

And yet… it had all happened in the space of a single thought. A single breath. A blink.

Even the watching deities and overlords from distant planes—those who viewed mortals as ants—stared in disbelief.

This army of Black Nest Familiars, which could run rampant across the main continent of Tal and even put great pressure on the Deep Sea Clan, was instantly turned to ashes and nothingness, dedicating all its strength to the Black Dragon Lord and pushing his power to an extremely exaggerated level.

High above the battlefield, a pressure now hung in the sky like a second sun. A presence that bent the world around it. The air thickened into syrup. Magic trembled. Reality itself seemed to cower.

And Snow Demon Mello, the apex predator of frost and ruin—feared across the northern realms, undefeated for centuries, wielder of the legendary armor [Ice Mark]—felt fear.

Real, primal fear.

He was not weak. He stood at the peak of the fifth tier of legend, tempered in the crucible of ancient wars. Even the Crimson Mother will failed to kill him. He was supposed to be unbreakable.

And yet now… the pressure crawling over his body made it feel like his bones were cracking under divine gravity.

Run.

It was not a thought. It was instinct. Ancient. Terrified. Absolute.

Run.

Flee.

Escape!

And so he did. Without shame. Without hesitation. Without so much as a second glance.

In a single burst of desperate magic, Snow Demon Mello transformed into a white streak of light and hurled himself across the sky, fleeing the battlefield he once ruled like a king. He didn't care who saw. He didn't care who mocked. He knew what he had just witnessed.

The birth of something unholy.

The awakening of the true Black Dragon Lord.

And if he stayed even a second longer, he would die.

In fact, the Snow Demon did just that. Almost at the moment the Black Dragon Lord's momentum peaked, he turned and became a stream of white light, fleeing madly into the distance.

In just one thought, the Black Dragon Lord's momentum rose to a level that frightened Snow Demon Mello.

Snow Demon Mello, the pinnacle of the fifth level of legend, held the legendary item [Ice Mark] and was limited to the fifth level in the Tal plane. Even the Crimson Mother could only defeat it without being able to kill it.

This was why the Dark Frost Giant Lord Thorn could safely let him take the lead on his behalf.

However, at this moment, the Snow Demon felt its entire body tighten, and the air itself seemed suffocating.

Escape.

Instinct told the Snow Demon that it should flee immediately—without hesitation.

In fact, the Snow Demon did just that. Almost at the moment the Black Dragon Lord's momentum peaked, he turned and became a stream of white light, fleeing madly into the distance.

The very fabric of space trembled—locked in frost and pressure, twisted by the remnants of my power. Even teleportation, the fastest means of escape, dragged slower than the beat of a dying heart. In the same fleeting breath, the panicked Snow Demon flailed through the air, sending out desperate psychic cries to his master beyond the veil.

It all unfolded in the time it takes for lightning to split the heavens.

The moment I opened my draconic eyes—still resonating with the ecstasy of transcendent power—I spotted the creature fleeing like a startled insect, wings beating with terror.

"Running?" My voice was calm, almost bored, but my gaze cut colder than a northern blizzard.

With but a thought, my obsidian-scaled body shifted, melting away into a storm of ash and Voidlife. The air groaned as my form shed its earthly shape and assumed the divine anatomy of a Void Dragon—an entity born from realms beyond stars and time.

The ancient watchers, who had yet to recover from the overwhelming surge of my ascension, were left stunned. For in that instant—right before their eyes—the Black Dragon Lord vanished into the space.

And reappeared.

Far ahead, hundreds of miles beyond the battlefield, the Snow Demon Mello was just beginning to sense a reply from his master. He had barely touched the edge of the recall spell descending from the floating island—a colossal force capable of piercing the fifth level of legendary—when he saw it.

Me.

Standing before him like the shadow of the end.

My scales gleamed like starlit obsidian, each curve a testament to violent perfection. My massive, spear-tipped claws had already filled his field of vision—unseen, unannounced, and inevitable.

And then they closed.

Before Mello could even scream, his entire body was crushed within my grip. The spell from the floating island tried to envelop him—to snatch him away to safety—but under my claws, it burst like a fragile soap bubble.

Waves of Void energy poured from me, boiling with ancient hunger. Mello shrieked like a dying beast, his power unraveling his strength, his body shattering under pressure beyond comprehension.

I didn't even glance at him.

My eyes turned upward, northward, into the wind—past mountains and the veil of sky—and fixed themselves upon the floating island in the distance. A smirk curved my lips.

"Thorne. Your loyal hound is whimpering for your help. And yet… here you sit, cowering in your sky fortress, watching from afar."

Thousands of miles away, atop the icy citadel, the Dark Frost Giant Lord Thorne loomed, a towering colossus of deathly power. His deep-set eyes, like twin moons glazed in shadow, widened with fury. The Black King's voice had struck true—mocking, barbed, and heavy with the weight of absolute confidence.

"You dare..." he growled. "You seek death!"

The giant's bellow shook the floating island itself. Cracks snaked through its ancient runes, and his cry sent tremors through the demon legions stationed there. Even the legendary ones among them averted their eyes in fear.

Then, in a blinding surge, the island vanished.

It reappeared a breath later—directly above me.

Without so much as a warning, the floating island's core flared like a newborn star. An energy cannon, bound by runes older than empires, howled as it charged, and then it fired—a cataclysmic lance of pure destruction aimed straight at my heart.

The sky tore in half. Space quivered.

Even I—who had just torn through the legendary boundary—felt a glimmer of caution. I twisted my body, wings slicing the air, and narrowly avoided annihilation.

The beam struck the land below.

And the world opened.

A deafening roar echoed across continents as a cavernous trench, over ten meters wide and deeper than a hundred thousand meters, was carved into the crust of Tal. The ground along the beam's path was no longer rock or earth—it was nothingness, atomized and erased from reality.

"Tch…" I turned my head, gaze falling on the abyss the cannon had left behind.

"So that's what passes for wrath these days?" I said, amused, voice rich with contempt. "Impressive. But you'll need more than that to stop a god in the making."

"Tsk, tsk, what terrifying power." I looked back at the abyssal hole left by the Floating Island's energy cannon and spoke in wonder.

Fortunately, I escaped.

Otherwise, I'm afraid I might have gotten slightly injured.

At the early stage of the fourth biological level, my strength was not weaker than the Snow Demon. Compared with the Crimson Mother and the average Dark Frost Giant Lord, I was only half a level weaker.

But now that I have received all the power of 30 million elite followers—excluding their souls—my biological order has directly broken through from the threshold of the fourth level to the middle of the fifth level, more than a full major level.

The power gap between these levels is enormous. This can be seen from the fact that I easily captured the Snow Demon Mello. Even when the Snow Demon at the peak of the fifth level used ice marks to explode into full strength, it was only a matter of time before he was subdued. He was captured in a single encounter.

At this point, I am no longer weaker than a high-level legendary powerhouse who has just advanced to level 25.

Just as I stood in the sky, marveling at the destructive might left behind by the first blast of the floating island's energy cannon—a trench deep enough to swallow a mountain range, vaporized clean into oblivion—another shift in the atmosphere tugged at my senses. The air no longer simply trembled. It screamed.

Far above, perched like a frozen continent hanging from the heavens, the Frost Floating Island began to stir. Massive rings of runic patterns shimmered to life, burning white-hot along its underbelly. Then I saw him—Thorne, the Dark Frost Giant Lord, still towering in the command hall of the ice-forged sky citadel.

His storm-wrought face twisted into a grimace as his icy gaze bore down on me from afar. His massive hand, clad in gauntlets of enchanted glacial steel, slammed down upon the floating platform's command crystal. His voice boomed like thunder echoing in the bones of the world:

"Full power. Burn it all."

In that moment, the sky changed.

From deep within the heart of the Frost Floating Island, the elemental energy pool—a sealed chamber holding thousands of tons of liquefied elemental essence—shuddered and then ignited. The very floor of the chamber fractured under the sheer violence of the release. Entire lakes of crystallized power, condensed over centuries, were vaporized in an instant.

This wasn't a simple attack.

It was annihilation.

The Island Spirit—Han, a semi-sentient being forged from pure elemental will—obeyed the command with chilling resolve. Her luminous body, shaped like a towering ice maiden, sank into the core of the array as the circuits of power lit up. From that nexus of frozen energy, she initiated the ultimate offensive protocol: The Wrath of the Seven Stars.

With a soul-rending explosion, the lower half of the island glowed white as hundreds of square meters of liquid energy ignited. The heat wasn't heat—it was raw force, a surge of mana dense enough to bend local reality. The eruption of magical pressure blasted clouds away for miles, collapsing entire weather systems in seconds.

Far below, I felt it—a pulse of pure death rolling toward me.

My draconic senses screamed. Every fiber of my being told me the same truth: this was a killing blow.

I looked up. The very sky fractured.

Seven beams of white light ignited beneath the island, so pure they burned violet at their cores. No longer beams—they were stars. Each one was a crystallization of a unique aspect of frost: Absolute Zero, Entropy Lock, Eternal Stillness, Cryo Disruption, Freezing Gravity, Soul Severance, and Domain Seal.

They spiraled together in a cyclone of frozen wrath and launched downward at incomprehensible speed. The light they cast eclipsed the sun. Space itself groaned and folded as the seven Frost Stars descended upon me.

The pressure locked the heavens. I reached out for the Void, but the surrounding area had already been sealed off—space and time stitched closed like a coffin. Teleportation? Useless. Dimensional slip? Blocked. Not even the echo of my will could escape.

And they were coming.

Faster than light. Faster than thought as it folded the space to reach its target.

I could not dodge them.

And those seven intertwined white light points were rapidly approaching.

I couldn't escape.

My instinct told me that even with my speed, I wouldn't be able to avoid such a rapid attack.

But—

My eyes narrowed. The void-dragon blood roared in my veins, and the gray-white of my body pulsed once. I no longer flew—I became motion incarnate. I didn't move through space.

I was absorbed in it.

The cold, gray-white dragon body shuttled directly into space, evading the bombardment of the seven entangled white stars and reappearing above the Frost Floating Island.

In an instant, I was gone from that sealed fragment of reality—and reappeared high above the Frost Floating Island, the storm clouds burning behind me as the Seven Frost Stars struck the earth below with unimaginable fury.

And then—

Silence.

For one breathless moment, the world held its breath.

Then the Seven Stars detonated.

The ground, the mountains, the rivers—they all vanished beneath a dome of absolute frost. A shockwave of silence pulsed outward as space itself was flash-frozen. Light bent. Time faltered.

Within seconds, a thousand-mile radius around the impact point turned into a crystalline death world. Glaciers the size of cities erupted from the earth. Forests became ice sculptures. Rivers shattered into frozen dust.

Castle Black and Monster City, once distant silhouettes in the horizon, were both consumed. The battlefront between demons and the surviving forces of Tal was erased. Tens of millions of demons—vanguards, commanders, beasts, even legendary elites—were caught in the blast.

They didn't die.

They were preserved in the moment of their death. Frozen mid-roar. Mid-stride. Mid-battle. A cursed museum of souls claimed by the wrath of seven dying stars.

All gone.

An army's worth of power, obliterated.

I looked down, wings spread, casting a long shadow over the floating island. The great dragon's eyes were wide—not with fear, but with reverence. I had seen many weapons in my time, but this… this was divine judgment forged by mortals.

A slow smile curved across my lips.

"Beautiful," I murmured. "But wasted."

Then I opened my jaws.

The void gathered.

An abyssal light swirled in my throat, silent and colorless—a breath not of flame, but of unbeing. A tide of entropy laced with the power to unravel creation surged forth from my maw and crashed upon the floating island like a god's curse.

The shields flared. Ancient runes sprang to life. But the breath of the Void Dragon devours.

It does not burn. It does not freeze. It erases.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the energy shield, and beneath it, the elemental pool was drawn into dissolution. Power designed to last centuries began to corrode within seconds, consumed by entropy made manifest in form of a beam.

Due to the breath's decomposing and devouring properties, the elemental energy pool of the Frost Floating Island was being rapidly consumed.

Inside the island's control hall, Thorne staggered.

"No…" he whispered.

The command crystal flickered. The floating island groaned like a beast on the edge of collapse. The impossible had happened—the Void Breath was winning.

Thorne's massive hand clenched into a fist as disbelief overtook him. His icy eyes stared through the crumbling barrier of his fortress until they locked onto mine, high above.

We met eyes.

"How is that possible?" In the main hall of the Floating Island, Thorn looked in astonishment at the gray-white dragon breathing on the island. A look of confusion filled his eyes.

The Seven Stars of Frost is the strongest attack move of the Frost Floating Island. Under Thorn's control, its unleashed power is enough to suppress and severely injure an ordinary high-level legendary powerhouse on the Tal plane. Because the Seven Stars of Frost has powerful spatial blocking abilities, the enemy confronted by this move can only endure it.

First, use the energy cannon to make the opponent drop their guard, then use the strongest method to eliminate them. That was Thorn's strategy.

"He actually traveled directly through space." Thorn's eyes seemed to pierce through the hall and the energy shield, meeting my gaze.

The bloodline possessed by this strange black dragon was definitely not simple. There was no way such a terrifying bloodline could come from mere mutation.

"You—" he breathed, voice low and shaken. "That bloodline… that body… it's no mere mutation. No natural evolution could produce such defiance of all laws. Just what are you?"

I didn't answer. My only reply was the thunderous beat of my wings as I rose higher, the void still burning in my throat.

How could a black dragon with water and dark bloodlines mutate into having such perverse spatial abilities?

"Could this guy have obtained divine blood like me? Or is it a spatial attribute?" Thorn couldn't help but think to himself, suspicion rising toward the Black Dragon Lord's insane abilities.

With suspicion came greed.

"If I could obtain this ability to traverse the void…" A flash of greed appeared in Thorn's eyes.

This was a supreme life-saving ability. Not only could it save lives, but in pursuit, he could completely crush an enemy's will.

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