Primordial Awakening: They Targeted My Daughter, I Became The Butcher! Chapter 45: Seventh Form

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

The dragon vanished, and the throne behind it exploded into fragnts.

A mountain-sized claw descended from the heavens.

The attack hadn’t even arrived yet.

Yet the pressure alone caused the earth beneath Amon’s feet to collapse.

Thousands of ters of land caved inward.

The dragon was fast.

Far faster than any creature Amon had encountered before.

Unfortunately.

Amon was faster.

Space folded, and the claw struck empty air.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The entire valley vanished completely!

A shockwave erupted outward, obliterating everything within dozens of kiloters.

Floating islands shattered, and ancient temples collapsed.

The dragon’s golden eyes narrowed.

Amon had already appeared above its head.

The Winter Frost Blade descended.

Swish.

A silver arc tore through the sky, however the result was...

Clang!

Sparks erupted.

Amon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The blade had penetrated several ters into the dragon’s scales before stopping.

An attack capable of bisecting a B-rank monster had failed to sever its neck.

The dragon laughed.

Its laughter echoed throughout the world.

"Hahahahaha!"

"Good!"

"Very good, human!"

Its tail swept through the sky.

BOOOOOOM!!!

Space exploded.

Amon vanished.

Then reappeared hundreds of ters away.

The dragon imdiately followed.

The enormous creature moved with terrifying speed despite its size.

Mountains exploded wherever it passed.

The battlefield descended into complete chaos.

Far away, the President and the other B-rank hunters finally arrived.

The mont they saw the battle...

Everyone froze.

One of the hunters nearly stopped breathing.

"W-What..."

The battlefield was gone.

Completely gone.

The valley they had spent weeks exploring had vanished.

In its place was a wasteland of destruction.

Every exchange between the dragon and Amon was reshaping the world itself.

The President’s expression gradually beca solemn.

"A-rank."

Those two words escaped his lips unconsciously.

The surrounding hunters felt chills run down their spines.

A-rank.

Only an A-rank existence could release such terrifying power.

And the Butcher...

Was fighting it head-on.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The dragon smashed through a mountain.

Amon appeared before it.

The Winter Frost Blade flashed repeatedly in rapid succession.

Once.

Twice.

Three tis.

Golden blood rained from the sky.

The dragon roared, and the surrounding world shook violently.

Yet its wounds rapidly healed.

Its scales regenerated, and its flesh rapidly recovered.

As though the damage had never existed.

The President’s face darkened.

"Regeneration."

A terrifying ability.

Against such a creature, even inflicting damage was aningless.

The dragon laughed again.

"You cannot kill , human."

Its wings unfolded, and ancient runes ignited across its scales.

The heavens darkened, and a terrifying pressure descended.

Amon’s gaze remained calm.

The dragon opened its mouth, and in the next instant, a sphere of black-gold energy rapidly condensed.

The surrounding space began collapsing inward.

Even the B-rank hunters in the distance felt their hearts stop.

"No!"

The President’s expression changed.

"Retreat!"

Unfortunately, it was already too late.

The dragon had fired the attack!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The beam pierced through the world.

Everything in its path disappeared.

Mountains.

Ruins.

Floating islands.

Nothing remained.

The attack continued for dozens of kiloters before finally dissipating.

Silence followed.

The dragon’s eyes swept across the battlefield.

Searching.

Then its pupils contracted.

Amon was standing atop a fragnt of floating stone.

Completely unhard.

The dragon froze.

The B-rank hunters froze.

The President froze.

Because none of them had seen how he survived.

It was as though he had simply stepped outside reality itself.

Amon slowly raised his sword.

The Winter Frost Blade began trembling.

An eerie yellow radiance erged around his body.

The dragon’s expression changed.

For the first ti since their fight began, a trace of danger appeared in its eyes.

The shadows throughout the battlefield began stretching unnaturally.

The temperature plumted, and the sunlight dimd.

Even the dragon’s laughter gradually faded.

Amon’s voice echoed softly.

"Abyssal Soul Requiem Sword Art."

The fifth form.

The world darkened.

A phantom moon appeared high above the battlefield.

The mont it appeared, every B-rank hunter felt their souls tremble.

The President’s pupils contracted.

"What kind of sword technique is that?"

No one answered.

Because nobody knew.

Amon swung his sword downward.

Swish.

A black crescent erged.

It was silent, beautiful, and extrely terrifying.

The dragon’s instincts exploded the mont the attack was released!

Danger.

Extre danger.

It imdiately unleashed all of its power.

Ancient runes illuminated its body, and golden light erupted violently across its scales.

An overwhelming aura surged from its soul as the black crescent struck.

Silence.

Then black flas ignited, and the next mont.

BOOOOOOM!!!

The dragon roared, and its enormous body trembled violently.

Black fire spread across its scales, and its golden eyes widened.

The flas weren’t burning its body.

They were burning sothing deeper.

Its soul.

The dragon slamd its claws into its own chest.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Trying desperately to extinguish the flas.

Nothing worked.

The black fire continued spreading.

The President stared in horror.

A technique that attacked the soul itself?

What kind of forbidden sword art was this?

The dragon’s roars grew increasingly frantic, and its aura rapidly weakened.

Its vitality plumted, and victory seed inevitable.

Then suddenly, the dragon stopped moving.

An ancient symbol appeared between its eyes.

The symbol erupted with blinding light.

BOOOOOOM!!!

A golden barrier enveloped its body.

The black flas began weakening.

Then fading.

Before disappearing entirely.

The dragon staggered backward, and its breathing beca ragged.

Yet it was alive!

The black flas had been extinguished.

The President’s face changed dramatically.

"It blocked it?"

Every hunter stared in disbelief.

Even after suffering such a terrifying attack...

The dragon had survived.

The dragon raised its head.

Its eyes were filled with lingering fear.

Fear directed toward Amon.

The black flas had nearly killed it.

If not for its innate A-rank ability.

Soul Sanctuary.

It would already be dead.

For the first ti since awakening.

The dragon no longer looked down on the human before it.

It looked at him as an equal.

Amon remained silent.

His gaze never changed.

The failure of the fifth form didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest.

Slowly.

He raised the Winter Frost Blade once more.

The atmosphere changed.

The dragon froze.

The President froze.

Every B-rank hunter froze.

Sothing felt wrong.

Very wrong.

The sky cracked.

The earth fractured.

The space surrounding Amon began compressing, collapsing, and distorting.

Reality itself seed unable to endure the pressure.

The President’s face instantly lost all color.

His instincts scread.

Run.

Every instinct in his body scread at him to flee.

The dragon felt it too.

Its pupils contracted violently.

For the first ti.

True fear appeared in its eyes.

Amon slowly swung his sword a second ti.

Only this ti, it was even more deadly than the first.

"Spatial Phantom Sword Art."

The seventh form.

There was no sword light.

No explosion.

No visible attack.

Nothing.

Then.

CRACK.

A sound echoed throughout the world.

The sound of space breaking.

A thin line appeared.

Stretching from Amon’s blade.

Across the battlefield.

Across the sky.

Across reality itself.

The dragon froze.

Its body remained motionless.

The President stared blankly.

The surrounding hunters stared blankly.

Nobody understood what had happened.

Then the line expanded.

And everything it touched disappeared.

Not destroyed.

Not severed.

Erased.

The dragon’s eyes widened.

For a brief mont.

Pure terror appeared within them.

Then its body vanished.

Its soul vanished.

Its aura vanished.

Its existence vanished.

As though it had never existed at all.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The sky split apart.

The mountains collapsed.

The entire dungeon trembled violently.

Silence followed.

Absolute silence.

The President stood frozen.

The strongest B-rank hunter in the nation couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t think.

His eyes remained fixed on the empty space where the dragon had once stood.

Gone.

Completely gone.

No corpse.

No blood.

No remains.

Nothing at all.

One of the B-rank hunters unconsciously dropped his weapon.

Clang.

The sound echoed loudly through the silence.

Nobody reacted.

Because every single one of them was staring at the lone black figure standing amidst the fractured world.

The Butcher.

A monster capable of erasing an A-rank existence with a single strike.

And for the first ti in their lives.

The gathered B-rank hunters understood sothing.

The most terrifying creature inside the Cold Moon District.

Had never been the dragon.

...

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