Understanding spatial Magic was much the same, requiring one to defy their own worldview to grasp even a fragment. "I can tell a bit about this seal," Dotleivy said from the side, having lived for thousands of years. "At least, it created an extra space."
That explained how it could seal an Ice Spirit for thousands of years. The essence of the seal was simple, creating a small space that existed within the world yet was cut off from it. Ordinary elemental seals could never confine an elemental spirit itself.
This was not something brute force could break. It was like a separate layer beneath a painting, visible but untouchable. Talking about smashing space with sheer strength was a joke, like trying to beat a game master with raw stats, because it challenged the world's underlying logic itself.
Only one with equal authority could defeat such authority. So did that mean a Black Dragon who understood spatial Magic really came here, broke the seal, and swallowed the fragment. No one knew, because no one had ever seen that Black Dragon.
"So should we take this with us," Fei'er Li asked, pointing at the shard on the platform. "Is it useful to you?" "Ah, whatever," Icelis snapped. "I don't want to see it. Take it away!"
The three left that place of heartbreak and returned to the snowstorm. Somewhere far away, Belial once again flew with ease toward another city. Below, as usual, monsters were attacking the walls.
Having seen it so many times, it looked almost normal. But if one looked closely, the monsters and the army below did not seem alive at all. If one had to describe it, it was like a crude puppet show, pulled by a giant unseen hand, aimed at only one person.
Belial used to worry that he was killing too much and might cause a collapse of the local ecology. After the scale of the Beast Tide gradually shrank, he also stopped roaming everywhere with the same enthusiasm. Later on, he tried to kill a little less, even if that effort was mostly symbolic.
Once he learned that large-scale Beast Tide were not some natural migration unique to the Otherworld but a man-made plot aimed at attacking cities, everything changed. After discovering that the mastermind behind it had entered a very close relationship with him, one where both sides wanted the other dead, the dragon became cheerful again. From his point of view, extinction and environmental collapse had nothing to do with him, and he was clearly doing good deeds.
He felt confident about it, since the humans he saved would all speak for him if asked. In his mind, they owed him walls covered in banners of thanks. Recently, perhaps because the mastermind was running out of strength, the scale of the Beast Tide had dropped a lot, though in truth it was because he had killed too many.
If he wanted to eat his fill, he usually had to wait for a Beast Tide to attack a city. He did not want to admit it, but this kind of large-scale killing and eating made him quite happy. Countless monster corpses were swallowed and turned into nourishment, and Magic was drawn in and merged into his body without pause.
With such steady supply, his strength rose quickly. His body had grown again to around fifty meters in length, and in terms of sheer mass, he was already close to the early generation. Godzilla did not need age for growth, since as long as the energy level rose, the body could grow larger.
After all, when Lidor inherited the remains of Burning Mode, his size surged straight to the hundred-meter range. Under the nourishment of so much monster life, Belial also grew again, reaching fifty meters as mentioned. What mattered more was not size itself, but the rise in every internal function.
The color of his scales seemed deeper, though the ice and snow hid the change, and his horns and back spines had grown darker and less flashy. His whole frame was thicker, with muscles and bones growing stronger, and even the internal biological Nuclear Reactor ran at higher output. With this, his current energy level could support more frequent use of Spiral Heat Ray over a period of time.
His weight had long since passed the ten-thousand-ton mark, and when his length increased from forty to fifty meters, his mass rose by more than half. This number was expected to keep climbing. With his current strength, he likely qualified to show his face in the Heisei Era.
For a while, without massive energy input, his body length would slow its growth and shift toward improving internal systems that supported such size. This meant upgrading internal capacity, such as energy output, including the ice-forming organs he gained after entering the Northlands. His breath attack was now far stronger, and perhaps one day it might reach the level of the Absolute Zero Cannon.
Though it might be a kind of hell for humans, Belial actually felt a bit grateful to the mastermind for causing all this trouble. Without the Beast Tide triggered by that person, how could he have grown this fast. It even unlocked a new panel waiting to be explored, and the only repayment he could offer was to use more strength when killing them.
Following the map given by the system, he arrived at another city under attack by a Beast Tide. The dragon bared his fangs again. Dark malice seemed to smile, and the audience for the play was already in place.
It was time to present the performance.
Through specially modified eyes, Salva had already spotted the massive figure faintly visible among the clouds. In a secret chamber beneath the city's castle, a swollen brain almost the size of a person loomed behind him, connected by blood vessels to nameless crimson organs and rooted deep into the ground. A thin spinal cord linked to the back of his own head, allowing him to grasp the situation of the entire city without leaving this room.
Faced with material he found pleasing, Salva had prepared this puppet show with great care. Souls and real flesh served as strings that linked to his fingers, and even more fingers beyond those of his own hands. Each string was connected to the Warrior on the city walls who appeared to be fighting desperately side by side with perfect coordination.
Their eyes were dull and their expressions frozen, but that was enough to fool observers. Current intelligence still could not explain why the dragon did not attack humans directly, but that did not matter. He simply used this trait, knowing that at critical moments, these humans could serve as secondary ritual materials.
The mindless monsters required no extra effort. He knew that these frenzied, controlled beasts would die in the end, and all they needed to do was act naturally. This play had tens of thousands of extras, dozens of the Lord performers, one director, and one audience.
With the audience seated, the show began.
Because the White Dragon had appeared many times in cities attacked by monsters, Salva had gathered a great deal of information. Dozens of spies hidden among monster hordes were killed, nearly a hundred cultists were exposed and died, and five bases were destroyed to gain this intelligence. With these results, Salva tailored an entire play for this audience.
Direct observation through one spy showed that this mutated Ancient White Dragon was more than twice the size of an ordinary dragon. As an expert, he only needed to look at its posture, muscles, and the impact of its steps to judge the situation. From its size alone, it clearly had hard bones and muscles far stronger than its kin, with a mass of several thousand tons.
"First, massive physical enhancement, yet it still keeps a fairly balanced form. Looks like it adapted well to Blessed Power."
Salva calmly took out a small notebook and began to record, finding the subject largely matched the intelligence. Its surface defense was not particularly strong and could be breached by Wind Magic, but the muscles beneath were tough. Because of this, he had prepared poisonous works of art that would quickly seep into the body once the scales were compromised and spread through the blood.
While weakening its strength, the poison would also corrode the organs. In repeated sightings, this dragon had shown terrifying brute force, enough to tear apart his creations by hand. If that was not addressed, later modification plans would be difficult.
"Next is large-scale spell attacks with ice laws. Too bad the ice spirit cannot be used, or I would have had a better plan."
Salva flipped to the next page of his notebook. From the castle window, he could glimpse part of the coming disaster. A huge ice-blue vortex churned the clouds, snow drifting down, white and cold in a way that reflected death.
Before the ice arrived, the humans and monsters below who were still performing suddenly stopped. Each froze in a different pose, yet all began the same action. They trembled, silently.
"Hm?"
Salva thought he was ready and had even planned to make coffee to enjoy the scene. Instead, he saw that within the circular area spread by the dragon's freezing breath, all the puppets he controlled lost response. His links were cut by a far stronger mental pressure, expanding outward without resistance, like eggs shattered by a hammer.