When the red dragon entered the Stigmata Domain, it saw a grayish-white sky.
To be cautious, it did not land directly. Instead, it flew high in the air, its wings barely moving as it relied on the currents to hold itself aloft.
The ocean below was grayish-white, its surface as still as a mirror.
A phantom of a continent floated on the sea, translucent, like looking at a painting through frosted glass.
The red dragon's gaze fell upon that phantom, and its heart trembled.
It was the outline of Source Realm Continent. It recognized the paths of those mountains and rivers.
The Source Realm had already been dragged in and was merging with this world.
It turned around and continued flying forward.
An island appeared on the sea ahead, emanating a deathly aura that filled it with disgust.
The island was not large. Nothing grew upon its blackened, scorched soil.
Many undead wandered across the island. Skeleton soldiers patrolled in square formations, Zombies lay sprawled on the beach, and Wraiths drifted through the air.
At the center of the island stood a church. A bone dragon crouched atop its roof, while a human clad in a dark purple robe stood beside it.
Beside that human stood a massive figure with dark teal scales, golden pupils, and folded wings.
It was their Dragon God—the Chaos Dragon.
The red dragon's heart suddenly lurched.
The Dragon God was still alive?!
Without another thought, it folded its wings and dove toward the island.
The wind howled past its ears and swept across its scales with a mournful roar.
It drew closer and closer to Death Island, and the Chaos Dragon's figure became increasingly clear.
The giant dragon stood there with its wings folded, its tail hanging behind it, and its head slightly lowered. It