Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill - Chapter 398:Advent Of Demon Army
Chapter 398:Advent Of Demon Army
The body resisted and the art could not keep up.
Days passed in his mental world. Then months. Then years.
Until one day, a thought struck him.
“…Why am I forcing human flames to temper a draconic body?”
His eyes widened.
“I already have the answer,” he whispered.
His Draconic Flame Body.
Instead of suppressing it, instead of treating it as a separate power, he decided to merge it completely with the tempering art.
“Use draconic flames,” he said slowly, voice trembling with excitement. “Use dragon fire to forge dragon flesh.”
The moment the thought settled, inspiration exploded.
A wave of knowledge surged into him, far clearer than before. The Crimson Flame Tempering Art shattered apart inside his mind, its structure breaking down completely. Old pathways collapsed. New ones formed.
His muscles began to tighten again.
His bones rang like metal struck by a hammer.
Beneath his skin, crimson scales reappeared, thicker and darker than before. They overlapped briefly, then sank back in, leaving faint glowing patterns that pulsed with heat.
His blood boiled.
Not painfully, but powerfully.
The flames around him changed. They were no longer wild crimson fire. They turned darker, deeper, carrying a faint draconic roar within them.
The art was reforged and was elevated.
The Crimson Flame Tempering Art evolved.
It became the Infernal Dragonflame Body Forging Art.
“Infernal Dragonflame Body Forging Art…” Ethan breathed out slowly. “…Damn, what a mighty name.”
His lips curled into a faint grin despite the pain.
With the foundation stabilized, Ethan did not hesitate.
He raised the potion bottle again and poured the remaining contents down his throat and shouted,”Add another five hundred and prepare.”
WHOOOM!
Energy flooded his body like a raging river. Mana gathered violently from the surroundings, forming a massive whirlpool that tore through the chamber. Cracks spread across the ground. The walls glowed red.
Ethan clenched his fists.
His aura surged.
His cultivation climbed rapidly, approaching the threshold he had been chasing.
Then suddenly, it slowed.
The power weakened.
“…What?” Ethan’s eyes widened slightly. “I already poured six hundred years. Why isn’t it enough?”
His heart sank for a brief moment.
“Does that mean I’m doomed?” he muttered. “Is reaching the Legendary Realm really this hard? Is it all about potential?”
He shook his head hard.
“No. That can’t be it.”
He recalled the legends. The old monsters. The hidden powerhouses.
How many treasures have they consumed?
How many divine medicines? How many forbidden resources that carry centuries of cultivation?
His path was different.
What he gained was pure time. Pure effort. No external amplification.
“That’s why it’s harder,” he concluded. “But also why it’s cleaner.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Pour all the remaining.”
BOOOOM!
A blinding flash erupted from his body. Violent light and roaring flames swallowed the entire chamber. The ground melted completely. The air screamed under unbearable pressure.
The flames twisted into the vague outline of a massive dragon before collapsing inward.
The blinding light lasted for a long time.
And within it, Ethan sat unmoving, enduring the final storm.
….
Deep inside a forest filled with thick mist, two figures stood silently, their shapes half hidden by drifting fog. The air was cold and heavy, and the ground beneath their feet was dark with old blood and rot. From where they stood, they could see far beyond the trees, toward the distant land that lay on the edge of ruin.
Their gazes fell on the massive array of troops gathered behind them.
Endless shadows moved within the mist. Rows of demonic beasts stood packed together, their forms twisted and monstrous. Horns, claws, wings, and fangs overlapped in a terrifying mass. Some were as large as towers, while others crawled low to the ground, drooling corrosive saliva. Their eyes glowed with hunger and madness.
Far ahead, the broken walls of Frontier were barely visible. They had been repaired again and again, reinforced with desperation rather than strength. Even now, smoke rose from several places, and the land around it was scarred beyond recognition.
The reason those walls still stood was clear.
“That Legendary rank Guardian is troublesome,” Rayon Beelzebub said, his voice low and irritated.
His sharp eyes narrowed as he stared at the distant defenses. Even from this far away, he could feel the faint pressure of a powerful presence guarding the land.
“It seems we need to act together, Damor,” Rayon continued, turning slightly toward the man beside him.
Damor Lucifer stood tall, his posture relaxed yet filled with an overwhelming sense of dominance. His silver hair moved gently despite the still air, and his crimson eyes carried a natural arrogance that made others instinctively lower their heads.
“How many times have I said this already?” Damor shouted suddenly, his voice echoing through the forest. “I don’t like such foolishness. If I fight, I will fight alone.”
Rayon froze for a moment, then cursed inwardly.
These damned bastards from the Pride Clan. Conceited fools who drive everyone insane with their arrogance.
He clenched his fists and forced himself to stay calm.
“That is a Legendary realm opponent,” Rayon said, trying to reason. “With one of us, she might escape. But if two of us act together, we can block her completely.”
Damor slowly turned his head. His expression hardened, and the temperature around him seemed to drop.
“Are you doubting my skills?” he asked coldly.
Rayon’s lips twitched.
“I said I alone am enough to deal with a mere rat like that,” Damor continued. “Do not compare me to weaklings.”
Rayon opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak another word, Damor had already moved.
Damor raised one hand.
The air screamed.
A catastrophic shockwave exploded outward, tearing through the mist like a blade. Trees bent violently, then snapped. The forest trembled as if struck by a natural disaster. The fog was blown apart, revealing the land beyond in terrifying clarity.
With a casual swing of his arm, Damor cleared a wide stretch of land ahead. The ground cracked, rocks shattered, and a wave of destruction rolled forward, flattening everything in its path.
Rayon stared in silence.
Damor then extended his hand forward and shouted, his voice filled with authority.
“We have waited enough. The demonic beasts have done their work.”
He lifted his arm high and brought it down with finality.
“Demonic Army,” he roared. “Time to advance. Go.”
