CHAPTER 195: DRAGON AS DINNER

Just as Igaris moved closer to the upside-down Hanging Fortress, a shadow burst forth from the crimson mist.

A massive tiger, coated in obsidian fur and marked with glowing red veins, lunged forward. Twin demonic horns twisted from its skull, and its eyes blazed with hatred.

"Roarrrr!"

It roared, the sound splitting the sky.

But Igaris simply lifted a hand and slapped.

Bang.

The tiger’s momentum stopped cold as his palm met its face in a casual motion.

And then blood, bone, and brain matter exploded outward before Its body crashed to the ground, twitching once before lying still.

Igaris didn’t flinch. He didn’t even slow down.

He continued forward, silent and composed, like a final boss walking through the early stages of a game.

He didn’t know the location of the Divine Weapon. But the fortress suspended by chains of bone and gold called to him. It felt right. So he headed there.

Halfway across a molten valley, the air shifted. A monstrous pressure descended from the skies. Something enormous stirred in the volcanic peaks ahead.

A Demonic Fire Dragon rose, its serpentine body towering nearly two hundred meters. Flames coiled around its scales like living serpents, and its eyes burned with a savage will.

Igaris stopped.

Then a ripple of power exploded from his core.

[ Ancient Titan Transformation ]

His body transformed. Muscles expanded. Bone cracked and reformed. Within seconds, he had grown far beyond the size of the dragon itself.

From the top, the mighty beast now looked like nothing more than a struggling rodent.

The Fire Dragon froze, its jaw slack. Confusion twisted into disbelief.

Igaris reached down, grabbed it by the tail, and lifted the thrashing beast into the air as if it weighed nothing.

"Let’s have some fried dragon on the way," he muttered.

Flames burst from his mouth, wrapping around the creature. But these were not ordinary flames. They burned with a nuclear fury, melting scale and sinew, roasting the beast from within.

The Fire Dragon thrashed violently, letting out demonic screeches that echoed for miles. Curses poured from its mouth in an ancient tongue, damning Igaris and his ancestors alike.

But he didn’t care.

Within moments, the flailing stopped. The dragon’s body sagged. Its flesh had been completely cooked.

As such Igaris tilted his head back and swallowed it whole.

The crunch of cooked bone echoed through the valley while Igaris was savouring it.

Salty. Crispy. Slightly bitter. But rich in essence.

After that, he exhaled once and moved on.

Toward the Hanging Fortress. Toward the Divine Armament.

---

Far from Igaris’s path of devastation, chaos reigned across the scattered pockets of the Secret Realm.

Each Dao Child had landed in a different nightmare.

Fairy Hua stumbled through a field of obsidian roses, each petal sharper than a blade. The air was laced with hallucinations, forcing her to relive every painful memory from her cultivation path. Phantom voices whispered doubt into her ears. Her spirit wavered, but she clenched her teeth and pressed forward. She sliced through the illusions with her rainbow-hued fan, her steps fueled by sheer will.

"Pretty flowers," she whispered coldly, "but you’ll need more than thorns to stop me."

Not far from her, Mu Chen was surrounded by puppets of his past — illusions made of Qi and shadow, wearing the faces of his fallen rivals. The cursed chessboard beneath his feet groaned, shifting every time he tried to move. Each wrong step triggered a barrage of spectral attacks.

He coughed blood, half-kneeling, eyes twitching with strain.

"Damn this trial," he growled. "I hope this trial kills that bastard."

He cursed for Igaris’ death.

Others weren’t so fortunate.

One Dao Child, a crimson-haired youth from the White Snake Sect, had wandered into a forest of bone pillars. He tried to fly above them, but a swarm of invisible threads sliced his wings to pieces. Screaming, he plummeted, only to be impaled by sharpened femurs rising from the ground.

Another, a girl wielding twin moonblades, was overwhelmed by a swarm of jade locusts. They dug into her flesh, devouring her alive, leaving only blood-slick weapons and a muffled scream that echoed for seconds after her body vanished.

And then came Yang Huo.

He had landed in a canyon of molten stone. At first, it seemed manageable. Fire was his element. He drew on it, summoned waves of heat, and even defeated a pair of lava hounds with ease.

But that confidence was short-lived.

From the shadows emerged something ancient.

A Molten Revenant, twice his size, wielding a blackened spear wrapped in chains. Its body was formed from scorched bones and volcanic ash, and its soul burned with hatred for the living.

Yang Huo launched everything he had — flame javelins, phoenix strikes, burst incineration.

Nothing worked.

The Revenant’s spear cut through his final defense, shattering his flame shield.

Blood splashed the burning ground. Yang Huo stumbled back, gasping, his chest pierced clean through.

"N... no... I still—"

The Revenant raised its spear and brought it down without mercy.

Yang Huo’s body collapsed into the lava, the light in his eyes extinguished.

Three of the top ten Dao Children was dead.

This wasn’t a tournament.

This was slaughter disguised as a trial.

And the realm had only just begun to reveal its cruelty.

---

The towering gates of the Hanging Fortress creaked open as Igaris stepped through, his form returned to normal — his body no longer towering like a titan, but his aura remained vast, oppressive, and untamed.

Inside, the world shifted again.

Gone were the broken landscapes and molten skies. In their place lay a grand celestial hall lit with gentle starlight. Silk curtains flowed like river mist, and every surface shimmered with heavenly radiance. The scent of lotus, honey, and something strangely intoxicating drifted through the air.

A harp played softly from an unseen corner.

And then, they appeared.

Seven women, each more stunning than the last, emerged from veils of light and mist. Every step they took seemed to sing with divine harmony. Their eyes sparkled with moonlight, their voices like lullabies sung in the tongues of the heavens.