Dragon and Dragon

Miasma Throat flew at full speed.

The polar darkness stretched endlessly around him. After a long flight, the Dust Serpent Heavy Armor he wore felt somewhat constricting.

In particular, the roll of flesh on his belly was squeezed tight, unable to stretch out.

As a member of the noblest race among dragons, Miasma Throat disliked the feeling of being restrained.

This time, however, the enemy possessed large numbers of high-kinetic-energy weapons.

Both he and Xiyu had changed to new equipment in accordance with the main god's instructions.

Miasma Throat looked ahead.

As he approached the pole, the already thin concentration of Magicules fell even further.

In this world so pure it was almost blank, Miasma Throat, who had descended from Eden, felt as though he had stepped straight from a bustling market onto a deserted snowfield.

His Destiny Level perception could be brought to bear to its fullest.

The faintly discernible mixture of auras ahead stood out sharply.

The aura of the undead was the most prominent and chaotic among them.

According to the intelligence, most members of the Final Bone Mad Machines were necromancers.

That matched.

As the distance narrowed, Miasma Throat sensed a cluster of elemental power as well.

It was quite strong:

It should belong to the target, Bay Owl.

But compared with Lord Abidaqi, Clock Hand Sequence One, it was still far too weak.

Mixed in with these powers was a trace of obscure, indistinct fluctuations.

Miasma Throat's gaze sharpened slightly.

He found those fluctuations somewhat familiar, and they brought someone to mind.

Qingming, the former Clock Hand Sequence Two and Traitor!

A chill gripped Miasma Throat, and cold seeped beneath the scales on his back. He almost instinctively drew in his wings to slow down.

But he quickly steadied himself.

After sensing them more closely,