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The last to arrive was certainly not the reinforcements the Sacred Dragon Mountain had hoped for.

Instead, it was the werewolf Chen Xuanfeng, who had shaken off the pursuing dragons.

The werewolf lord arrived at the Jade Scale Peak like a streak of white light. He neither aided the Demon Dragon nor attempted to dismantle the dimensional trap.

He made only one move.

A slash.

A swing of the cursed Tiger Soul blade.

The blade's radiance shot into the heavens, twisting the clear, boundless azure sky into a swirling vortex of dark, storm-choked gloom. The blade descended, its edge expanding to a hundred meters in length, layer upon layer of space distorting and overlapping under the dark magic, compressed into a gigantic, ominous black demon-egg that voraciously absorbed all matter and energy in the atmosphere. Finally, it transformed into the herald of primal destruction, crashing down upon the Crystal Palace below.

"Chaos Reborn—Violet Calamity!"

This strike, a fusion of the supreme Nine Yin blade arts and the strongest dark incantation, "Doomsday Birth," had once obliterated the royal capital of the blood elves. Now, it descended upon the Sacred Dragon Mountain.

"NOOO—!"

Within the Crystal Palace, the elders, warriors, and mages clearly sensed the terror of impending annihilation and screamed in terror. None had expected this werewolf lord to slaughter the mountain's dragons, nor that he would disregard the safety of his own mount and deploy such a cataclysmic technique, aiming to annihilate both the Crystal Palace and the Demon Dragon in one fell swoop.

Now, no one cared about the dimensional trap anymore. The Crystal Palace's vast magical systems roared to life, channeling every shred of magical energy from the thousand-billion-ton crystalline structure to erect layer upon layer of magical barriers. Countless gemstones shattered into dust, unleashing the spells embedded within them, their power surging through golden and precious metal conduits to converge into a colossal torrent of magic. In that instant, the entire Crystal Palace was bathed in spectral radiance, displaying the most magnificent and resplendent form it had ever shown since its creation.

*...With such immense power, even a forbidden spell could be resisted, right?...*

Yet, as this thought flickered through the elders' minds, all they saw was the violet-black blade light of the silver-haired werewolf cleaving effortlessly through the Crystal Palace's magical defenses, descending with the force of a comet striking the earth.

The hapless elders of the Sacred Dragon Mountain had no idea that Chen Xuanfeng's strike carried the unique power of "Doomsday Birth," capable of devouring all opposing magic and converting it into its own destructive force. Had it not been for this, how could the blood elves' royal capital, "Crimson Glory," have been flattened in a single slash? How else would Chen Xuanfeng dare use this technique against the Crystal Palace, a structure entirely built of magical materials?

By the time the elders realized this, it was already too late.

"KABOOOOOM—!"

Violet-black explosions shot into the sky as a massive mushroom cloud erupted from the Jade Scale Peak. History repeated itself—just like the Crimson Glory of the blood elves, the mountain peak bearing the Sacred Dragon Mountain's most magnificent structure crumbled in an instant. The colossal Crystal Palace and the majority of the Sacred Dragon Mountain's inhabitants were utterly obliterated.

"HAHAHAHA! The history of the Sacred Dragon Mountain ends here!" The werewolf, standing triumphantly atop the ruins, laughed as he made his declaration.

Indeed, the Sacred Dragon Mountain—the hallowed ground where the Abyssal Dragon King's invasion of the Material Plane had once led to the Dragon God descending in the form of a Sacred Dragon, ultimately forging the alliance between humans and dragons—had now met its end. This place, which had embodied the glory of countless Dragon Knights over a millennium and stood as one of humanity's two great holy lands, had finally reached its demise today.

The setting sun cast a blood-tinged glow over the ruins of the Sacred Dragon Mountain, but the survivors still wandering amidst the wreckage saw only the hue of blood.

Chen Xuanfeng stood atop a high cliff, dispassionately watching the humans still desperately searching the ruins for survivors. He felt neither sorrow nor bloodlust.

Of the five main peaks that symbolized the Sacred Dragon Mountain's existence, three had collapsed, and the other two lay in ruins. The dragons had fled in disarray, and the mountain's elite had been turned to ash. Though many forces had descended the mountain to join the human armies, unscathed—what did it matter? Without the means to produce new Dragon Knights, the Sacred Dragon Mountain had lost its appeal to humanity. Had it remained intact, it might have served as a crucial fortress. But now, with it in ruins, would humans, already threatened by the beastmen, still expend resources to rebuild it?

Moreover, the dragons' performance in this battle had been disgraceful. First, they had panicked under the surprise assault, then recklessly destroyed the "Amethyst Bastion" due to Chen Xuanfeng's schemes, and finally, they had fled without a fight as he demolished the Dragon God's relic, the Dragon-Sealing Summit. Even with their thick hides and pride, how could the dragons now openly call for humans to rebuild this place? And without the dragons, could this still be called the Sacred Dragon Mountain?

Having reflected on this, Chen Xuanfeng felt his mission was complete and prepared to leave. But suddenly, ice water flooded his veins.

In that moment, he felt the visceral terror of a blade at his throat.

A threat—an immense threat. Not even the Dragon Saint or the Beastman King had ever made him feel such danger.

"Who's there?" The silver-haired werewolf spun around—the threat came from behind him.

A gaunt figure clad in black robes stood ten meters away. Yet Chen Xuanfeng, acknowledged as the world's foremost warrior since the Dragon Saint's fall, hadn't detected this figure's approach.

*...A hidden master of the Sacred Dragon Mountain? Did a previous Dragon Saint survive by some means, or...?*

In that instant, countless thoughts flashed through Chen Xuanfeng's mind, his Tiger Soul blade and the Sword of Divine Punishment poised to strike.

Yet the black-robed figure made no move to attack. Instead, he slowly pulled back his hood. "An undead?" Chen Xuanfeng was taken aback. The figure's withered face and sockets burning with ghostly flames marked him as undead—which gave Chen Xuanfeng some relief. *At least the lack of breath or heartbeat isn't my fault... there simply aren't any.* Still, the opponent was undeniably powerful. Given Chen Xuanfeng's current prowess, even if SUPER SPIRITS formed from deceased elves had drifted nearby, he would have detected them.