Chapter 39: Explosion, Explosion, and Still More Explosions!
The auctioneer, in a captivating tone, introduced the precious dragon slave consigned by a mysterious seller.
Capturing a proud dragon alive was a hundred times more difficult than killing one.
To true powerhouses, mere beauty held no appeal.
They sought “unique” attributes to prove their wealth and status…
Dragon slaves were rare enough, and though this Blue-Eyes White Dragon was male, its appearance was striking. Many nobles were not picky about such matters…
The bidding started at five million gold coins, quickly doubling to over ten million.
Twenty million, fifty million, seventy million…
The bidding in the hall grew frenzied.
It finally reached a terrifying eighty-seven million!
The nobles were stunned. Eighty-seven million for a Blue-Eyes White Dragon alone; was the empire truly this prosperous, or was something amiss?
The auctioneer’s voice was almost hoarse, “Eighty-seven million for the first time, eighty-seven million for the second time, eighty-seven million… sold—”
His words were cut short. He suddenly noticed the body of the young Blue-Eyes White Dragon beside him emit a dazzling green light.
Then, this green light engulfed the entire hall, tearing through layers of defensive arrays.
Two seconds later, the light pierced through the beautiful Supreme Mystery Auction House, spreading to the surrounding blocks, causing waves of continuous explosions and collapses…
“Nature’s Law, Souls Return to the Ancestral Tree!”
A fanatical cry, accompanied by a dragon’s roar, echoed through the heavens.
…
…
At the same time.
“Nature’s Selection Arena”
A combat mage of intermediate magic power, fully armed, was challenging a high-level magical beast beyond his level.
Despite the disparity in strength, the combat mage’s targeted preparations and superb skills had completely suppressed the tiger-like high-level magical beast before him.
Combat mages were the warriors or assassins among mages, proficient in using Mana Weapons for close-quarters combat.
Their attacks were powerful, and their skill ceiling was high, but they were also extremely fragile.
Excellent combat mages could often produce incredibly spectacular and enjoyable fights.
The empire valued martial prowess, and even mages could make combat thrilling.
With over eighty thousand spectators, the audience was swept into a frenzy by the sharp, dancing maneuvers of the combat mage’s blade, cheering him on!
Even the guards were captivated by the intense battle, neglecting their surroundings.
They failed to notice several figures in grey robes entering the arena from different directions.
A faintly visible magic circle covered the vast arena.
“Nature’s Law, Souls Return to the Ancestral Tree!”
Shrieks erupted from different directions as terrifying magical phenomena manifested. Countless spectators clutched their throats in agony.
But the power of growth was also extraordinary. Sprouting saplings accumulated power, eventually piercing through their palms. Upon contact with the air, they developed at an even more terrifying speed!
These spectators were almost instantly drained into mummified husks, and then tree-like beings, ten meters tall or more, emerged from their bodies, madly attacking and destroying everything around them.
Within moments, the arena had collapsed, while the figures in grey robes had turned into blood mist…
…
…
In the Northern Barracks, a celebration banquet for decorated officers was underway.
Although the Empress of Eternal Night was not present, her envoy, Lord Dio Brando, was equally beloved by the officers.
His high praise and affirmation of their recent operation dispersed their confusion and gave meaning to all their sacrifices.
Officers like young Joey Barton, who had been burdened by guilt after witnessing civilians turn on each other, found solace in Roger’s words and were no longer plagued by PTSD from the undercover mission.
The young people indulged in the night prepared especially for them.
Food and drink were constantly supplied at the celebration banquet, and many finally dared to drink to their heart’s content.
Joey had also had quite a bit to drink.
Fueled by alcohol and encouraged by several female officers, she finally mustered the courage to approach Lord Dio Brando with her wine cup.
In Joey’s eyes, this young and handsome Minister of History was an extraordinary figure.
He possessed knowledge far beyond that of ordinary officers, and though of Commoner background, he was deeply trusted by Her Majesty, with a profound understanding of war and history.
Most importantly, he understood the struggles of frontline officers after completing their missions, dispelling the nightmares that had kept her awake for many nights with his charismatic speech.
“To kill for life, to cut down sin, not people!”
“Someone must bear the burden for the empire!”
What profound words!
Many high-ranking officials in the military had explained the significance of the Restoration Army’s actions, but none had done so with the depth and impact that Lord Dio had, resonating so deeply within her heart.
Having just returned to the City of Mysteries, Joey was like a traveler fallen into a bloody swamp, a prisoner lost in the dark night.
When she was at her most lost and helpless, almost unable to breathe or sleep, Lord Dio appeared like a guiding light, illuminating her life and pulling her ashore.
And there was one more crucial point.
Lord Dio was truly handsome!
A gentleman as refined as jade, a lady would surely be attracted.
Joey was not one to dally; her time in the military had made her more straightforward.
Although many male officers had expressed their admiration for her, she had felt nothing.
It was the first time in her life she felt such a strong attraction to someone of the opposite sex.
Joey felt she had to at least try.
Being rejected might mean a few days of sadness, but missing this chance could lead to a lifetime of regret!
Roger, while discussing some applications of unlimited warfare with a senior military figure, turned and saw Joey Barton waiting nearby.
Her eyes sparkled, clearly indicating she had something to say to him.
“Something wrong?” Roger asked.
Joey’s pretty face turned bright red. Facing his dark eyes, she forgot all the words she had prepared.
She awkwardly raised her wine cup and whispered, “Lord Dio, I toast you!”
Without waiting for Roger’s reply, she downed the full cup in her hand.
Roger reciprocated with a toast.
Joey poured another drink, remembering the lines her best friend had taught her.
But when Roger looked at her, her heart fluttered again, and in her flustered state, she blurted out, “Lord Dio, I toast you again!”
She downed another cup, and Roger had no choice but to match her.
“Lord Roger, I must toast you again!”
Joey finished her third cup and began pouring the fourth.
Roger didn’t want to keep drinking.
Was this a toast or a drinking contest?
Moreover, he felt many eyes were already glancing this way, carrying envy, jealousy, and spite. The lemons in the fruit section wouldn’t be enough to go around.
He gently placed his hand on Joey’s, saying with a sigh, “Let’s drink later. Can you talk to me about your experiences on the front lines?”
This female officer was likely here to express her gratitude, but she was too nervous.
Her主动 offering drinks and then chugging them herself was pushing him towards the opposite of what the people wanted.
After all, Joey Barton, even in a Magical World full of attractive individuals, could be considered top-tier in appearance.
She possessed a bold personality and an even bolder figure, with a chest that surged like waves, placing her among the elite of women her age in the Empire.
The kind of woman who needed to place a pair of “wheel weights” on the table when sitting down.
Coupled with her excellent combat ability and intelligence, she had reached the rank of Colonel at a young age, with admirers flocking to her like a relentless tide.
Roger didn’t overthink it, assuming she was still troubled by recent events on the front lines and intending to counsel her privately.
Joey, realizing her performance had been subpar, shyly agreed and followed Roger towards a corner where they wouldn’t attract too much attention.
The celebration banquet seemed to return to normal, with stories unfolding between young men and women, young men and men, and many, many others.
The officers, releasing their suppressed emotions, didn’t notice that some of their colleagues exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.
At the heart of these undercurrents was the Lieutenant Colonel who had reported to Josda.
