King Ghidorah felt that he was careless and did not flash.
He has lived for such a long time - no, he traveled through time not long ago - but no matter what, he is King Ghidorah the King, the universe-level destruction Titan.
As a result, just now, he was flying, feeling the chaotic magic around him, and thinking "Is there some bug in this world?", and then a mouth popped out of the ground and swallowed him.
So, where is this place?
King Ghidorah's three heads rotated at the same time, and six golden vertical pupils swept across this unfamiliar space.
Dimness is not the kind of darkness at night, it is the kind of darkness that is left after the light itself does not want to exist here and is swallowed up by something. It is gray, as if covered with a layer of dirty gauze.
The sky and the earth hang upside down, with the broken earth above your head and the cracked sky beneath your feet.
Countless pieces of land fragments of different sizes are suspended in the air, some are covered with dead trees, some are covered with gray-white powder, and some are bare, leaving only the smooth rock surface polished by the wind and time.
Some of the fragments are close, some are far away, some are rotating slowly, and some are stationary.
The color of the sky is not blue, but dark purple, like a piece of bruise that has been left there for too long, and the color slowly fades from the center to the edge.
Like a dead world.
"What did you do to me? Is this still Yilisai?"
King Ghidorah's three heads were rotating at the same time, and the six vertical pupils were dazzlingly bright in the dark purple light. He tried to flap his wings, and the airflow flowed under his wings, but the thrust generated was much smaller than he expected.
The air density in this space is so low that his wings need to flap more to obtain the same lift.
But lift doesn't make sense here, because he doesn't need lift to fight gravity - gravity doesn't exist. He just needs to push himself from one plate to another.
King Ghidorah glanced at the corpse of a giant snake several kilometers long next to it.
Its body straddles between two suspended pieces of land, like a rotten bridge connecting two isolated islands. Most of its gray scales have fallen off, revealing the dark purple, dry muscles underneath.
Its head has disappeared, and the fracture of its neck is ragged, as if it was torn apart from the inside by something.
Black material slowly flowed out from the fracture, like thick, cooled magma, slowly flowing on the surface of its body and seeping into the gaps between its scales.
This guy brought him in.
King Ghidorah looked at the body of the headless giant snake. If it were normal, he would have to study how to make such a big thing delicious - although he didn't eat, it didn't stop him from thinking.
Steaming? How big of a steamer do you need? Braised in soy sauce? How big of a pot do you need? Slicing and shabu-shabu? That's really possible.
King Ghidorah squinted his eyes and looked at the severed head of the giant snake. Black material slowly flowed out. There were no bones and no muscle fibers. He moved closer and plucked the pile of black things with the tips of his claws.
It has no elasticity or toughness, just like a pile of mixed, semi-liquid black sludge that exudes a faint rancid smell.
What is this? Can it be eaten?
Forget it, let's figure out how to get out first.
"Hello."
King Ghidorah was shocked. His three heads stood up at the same time, and the biological lightning on his scales flashed violently. The golden arc jumped between the scales a few times, and then went out.
Did he hear something?
It was not an illusion. The voice was soft but clear, like the echo heard when someone speaks to the stone wall in an empty hall, but more direct and closer.
"Hello, outsider."
It's not an illusion, something is really talking.
King Ghidorah Take a deep breath - although it is not necessary, it is a habit.
He organized the words in his mind, then suddenly opened his mouth and let out a low, penetrating roar.
The roar echoed in the empty alien space, hit the suspended land, bounced back, and bounced back again, forming sound wave ripples that gradually dissipated in circles.
It's not an attack, it's just a greeting.
"Sorry... I don't understand your language. You can communicate with me directly using your psychic powers."
The voice sounded again, still very calm. King Ghidorah was silent for a moment.
Then you come out first.
His three heads looked at the direction of the sound at the same time. There was nothing there.
There is nothing that can serve as a carrier for "people". There is only a gray void with dust and small debris suspended in it.
Then he saw it.
No, it's not "seeing", it's "perceiving". In that direction, at the edge of his perception, there is a golden light condensing.
It didn't fly from anywhere, it emerged directly from the void, like a drop of ink dripping into clear water, like a seed sprouting in the soil, coming from nothing, growing from small to large. The golden light became brighter and brighter.
Not the kind of dazzling brightness like the sun, but the soft kind, like the first ray of sunlight in the morning shining on the face through the curtains, the warm brightness that makes people want to close their eyes and feel it for a while longer.
The light condensed into a sphere, which was not big, probably only as big as one of his heads.
The sphere is suspended in the air, with fine, water-wave-like lines flowing slowly on its surface.
"Hello, outsider, I am God of Light--Leonsel."
"The god who defeated Evil God."
Valerirus retreated a distance, flapped its wings backwards, and moved its body backwards.
He looked at the huge sphere that expanded from the black material in front of him, and the golden-red light lit up again deep in his throat.
No, you have to try the details of this thing. He opened his mouth, and the golden-red light deep in his throat switched from a condensed state to a released state at that moment.
A beam of light spurted out from his mouth, and the beam of light, brighter than ever before, hit the surface of the black sphere, like a red-hot iron rod thrust into the snow.
The surface of the sphere evaporates and dissipates in the high temperature, revealing the gray-white inner layer that is still crawling.
The light beam did not stop, but continued to advance forward, passing through the front of the sphere and out from the back, punching through the entire sphere.
Boom - the sphere exploded, not an explosion, but a disintegration. The black shell shattered into countless pieces, splashed in all directions, turned into fine, gray-white powder in mid-air, and fell one after another.
The powder continued to decompose as it fell, turning from gray-white to transparent, from transparent to nothingness, leaving nothing behind.
Valerirus flew back a certain distance, fanned its wings backwards, and moved its body backwards without taking its eyes away from the dissipating black smoke.
He looked at the smoke and dust, and his dragon face changed - not fear, but the kind of expression that would unconsciously switch from "I'm fighting" to "I'm evaluating" when faced with an existence that completely exceeded expectations.
He felt the outrageous magical intensity.
Valerirus spread its wings, lifted up its body suddenly, and flew into the air.
His speed was so fast that even the sound of flapping wings could not catch up with him. He had to see the whole thing clearly from a higher angle.
The black smoke cleared.
On the pitted, smoky ground that had been affected by the battle, a figure slowly stood up.
Not big. Compared with the huge body of Valerirus, this figure is pitifully small.
It is only about three or four meters tall, humanoid in shape, with limbs and proportions similar to those of humans.
But it's not a human being - its body is made of black material, which solidifies into an armor-like structure on its surface. Each piece has sharp edges and corners, including shoulder armor, breastplate, arm armor, and leg armor.
The surface of the armor is inlaid with purple crystals. The shapes of the crystals are irregular, some are long and some are short. They are distributed on his body. The center of his face, extending from his forehead, is triangular, like a huge eye standing upright.
There are no facial features on its face, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, only a piece of purple crystal, which is shining slightly.
Valerirus Looking at that figure from the air, he could feel the outrageous magic power.
Even stronger than that monster, much stronger, so strong that his scales were slightly tightened and the golden-red light deep in his throat was beating uneasily.
This thing is stronger than the monster just now! You have to run. It is stupid to not run even though you know the enemy is strong.
After living for so many years, the greatest skill is not being able to fight, but knowing when to run.
Valerirus spread his wings, turned his body sharply in the air, and flew away from the figure.
His speed was so fast that the sound of flapping wings was left behind, and the wind whistled sharply in his ears.
He glanced at the city next to him, where the lights were bright and panicked crowds were swarming on the streets like stirred ants. If this thing went in the direction of the city, no one in the city would survive.
Valerirus gritted his teeth, turned around suddenly, and the golden-red light deep in his throat lit up again, spitting out a huge beam of light towards the figure who was still standing upright.
The light beam hit the ground under its feet, and the ground exploded. The gravel and soil were lifted up by the shock wave, shrouding it in a cloud of gray-black smoke.
He turned around and flew away again, his wings beating faster than before.
Then, the figure started to move.
Valerirus didn't even see how it moved.
There was no warning, no acceleration, no sonic boom that tore the air apart. It just disappeared from the smoke and dust, and then appeared next to Valerirus.
It didn't fly over, it appeared directly there. Valerirus's pupils suddenly contracted.
His wings were still fanning back and his body was still rushing forward, but the arm covered with black armor had already stretched to his side.
The fist was clenched, and the black substance condensed into a thicker and harder carapace on the surface of the fist, with the surface covered with tiny purple crystals.
Then it hit him on the ribs.
Time slowed down at that moment.
Valerirus could clearly feel those purple crystals piercing his scales, piercing his muscles, and pressing against his ribs.
Then the power came, transmitted from that fist to his body, from the side of his body to the whole body. His ribs cracked in the first wave of impact, and then broke in the second wave.
His body was like a baseball hit by a bat, ejected from the spot, rolling and spinning in the air, and flew far away.
Valerirus was flying in the air while doubting Long Sheng.
What's going on? Isn't he the oldest and strongest dragon in the continent?
How come one after another can defeat his existence?
Forget about the black dragon and His Majesty Caesar in front...
What's going on now with this little thing that's three to four meters tall and doesn't even have a face?
What's wrong with this world?