CHAPTER 897: EVERYTHING AS PLANNED

The roar startled Max for an instant, a chill running down his spine, but he quickly realized the dragon’s body was trembling too much to move, its strength completely drained from the brutal battle and the devastating self-detonation of its beast core.

Max exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. Black flames erupted around his body like a shroud, twisting and writhing as his unique power surged. "Devour," he whispered, his voice low and calm. Immediately, waves of energy from the dying three-headed black dragon began to flow toward him, drawn into his body like streams feeding into a hungry abyss. The surge of power was immense, but Max didn’t stop to savor it, knowing there was no time.

He moved like lightning, the One Step Mile technique propelling him forward at astonishing speed. One moment, he was a hundred feet away from the Pure Yang Flower, and in the very next, he had halved the distance to fifty feet, his body nothing but a blur of black flames racing across the blood-soaked ground.

The roar, however, had another unintended effect—it snapped Kyle back to consciousness. Lying bruised and bloodied from the devastating beast core explosion, Kyle’s eyes fluttered open, and his blurred vision settled on Max’s figure speeding toward the pond. Disbelief and rage flooded Kyle’s gaze. He had seen battles before, seen opportunists try to take advantage of chaos, but this? This was beyond anything he could tolerate.

A person, someone so insignificant that he hadn’t even noticed during the fight, had been hiding nearby this entire time, waiting like a vulture for the right moment to swoop in and claim what so many had nearly died to obtain.

"You dare... Kill him!" Kyle’s roar rang with raw killing intent, his voice reverberating with enough force to make the others freeze momentarily. His aura flared slightly, though faint and unstable, and murderous intent poured off him like a suffocating tide.

But it was useless—Kyle had no spare strength left to personally stop Max. His body refused to move, pain shooting through him as his injuries screamed in protest.

Arnold and his two companions, however, reacted immediately. Rage twisted their expressions as they finally grasped what was happening. "Max! Stop right there!" Arnold shouted, his voice cracking with fury.

The young man named Devon and the young man named Rick didn’t hesitate, charging forward with every ounce of speed they could muster. Their mana surged, tearing cracks into the ground beneath their feet as they shot toward Max like arrows loosed from a bow.

They were livid—beyond livid. So many had fought tooth and nail, paying in blood and lives, and yet now, an outsider from the mere Master Rank—a rank they wouldn’t even glance at under normal circumstances—was taking advantage of their sacrifice. If word of this spread, they would become the laughingstock of the entire secret domain. Their reputations as proud geniuses would be shattered.

"This Max must die!" Dustin’s voice roared through the clearing as he pushed his speed to its limits. Rick’s expression was just as grim, his killing intent no less than Kyle’s.

But they were too far. A hundred feet separated them from the pond, and Max, fueled by the One Step Mile technique, was moving faster than their eyes could track, each step shrinking space as though he were bending the distance itself.

In just a breath’s time, Max was there—standing before the Pure Yang Flower, its delicate petals glowing faintly like embers of pure life essence. With a swift motion, he reached out, plucked it from its place, and with another flick of his wrist, placed it safely into his storage space.

The golden-red glow of the flower vanished instantly, leaving only the scent of its essence lingering faintly in the blood-tinged air. Behind him, Arnold, Dustin, and Rick’s furious cries echoed, but by then, it was already too late—the Pure Yang Flower belonged to Max.

Max didn’t waste a single heartbeat after securing the Pure Yang Flower. His eyes turned toward the enormous corpse of the three-headed black dragon, which was still wreathed in his black flames, its massive body twitching faintly as the last vestiges of life left it. Without hesitation, Max rushed forward, his steps quick and precise, his aura surging like a tide.

As soon as he reached the dragon, the flames covering its body intensified drastically, roaring upward like a dark inferno eager to consume everything. The scales cracked, the flesh sizzled, and within moments the once-mighty dragon that had dominated the battlefield was reduced to nothing but ashes, leaving behind no bones, no skin, no essence—nothing.

"Swish!" In one smooth motion, Max vanished from the spot, his figure blurring into an afterimage as he bolted away at full speed, his expression calm yet alert.

"Catch him!" Kyle’s furious voice ripped across the battlefield, laced with venom and killing intent. He struggled to push himself up despite his injuries, his face turning an ugly shade of purple from sheer anger. Max’s actions had gone beyond snatching an opportunity—he had outright stolen everything Kyle had intended to claim.

The reason was simple: the three-headed black dragon had three beast cores, and only one had been destroyed in its self-detonation. The remaining two, along with its body that was overflowing with valuable materials—scales, blood, tendons, and bones, all priceless treasures—had been Kyle’s next target.

He had envisioned subduing or at least harvesting the beast after finishing it off, using its parts for rare treasures or refining, which would have added significantly to his strength. Now, all of that had been stolen in the blink of an eye, reduced to ashes by Max’s black flames.

Arnold and his two companions were equally stunned for a moment. They had assumed Max’s audacity ended at stealing the Pure Yang Flower, but watching him take away even the dragon’s corpse sent shockwaves of rage through them.

Without hesitation, they roared in unison and shot forward, mana flaring as they desperately tried to close the distance.

Max, however, moved like a phantom, his figure twisting and weaving through the trees like a spirit snake, graceful yet impossible to catch. The One Step Mile technique left shimmering afterimages in his wake, further taunting his pursuers as he widened the gap.

Just when he thought he had created enough distance, a figure appeared ahead of him, stepping out from behind a blood-soaked tree with a whip already in her hand. Her figure was alluring and curvaceous, her face deceptively beautiful, but her eyes were filled with venomous hatred. It was Nell.

"Go to hell!" she screeched, her voice sharp and vicious, echoing with killing intent. The whip in her hand lashed downward like a bolt of crimson lightning, cutting through the air with a deafening crack as it descended toward Max’s head.

Max’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "Do you want to die?" His voice was ice cold, filled with lethal intent. Earlier, he had spared this cruel woman, choosing not to waste time or energy because he had been focused on collecting the Pure Yang Flower.

He had even ignored her selfish act of sacrificing her own companions to save herself. But now, for her to block his path and attack him in such a critical moment... it was nothing short of courting death.

His black flames surged violently, responding to his rage like a living thing, wrapping around his sword arm as he prepared to deliver his answer—a fatal one.