Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 47: Abyssal Awakening

The massive snake lay motionless, its body now sprawled across the battlefield, its flesh still smoldering.

The air was thick with the scent of burnt scales and blood. The cavern was eerily silent, the distant dripping of water echoing through the vast space.

Bel stood in the center, his breaths ragged and uneven. His body trembled, he could still feel the fire coursing through him, flickering around his body like a living entity.

Nobody spoke.

The adventurers were frozen in place, their eyes locked onto him, their expressions a mixture of awe and disbelief. Their gazes shifted from the burning corpse of the snake to the lone figure standing before it, his silhouette illuminated by the dying embers of his own power.

The heat around him wavered, distorting the air. And yet, something was wrong.

[HP: 98/966... 91/966... 84/966...]

His health was still dropping.

Bel's vision blurred slightly. The venom from the snake's fang still pulsed through his veins, its corruption eating away at him. He clenched his fists, trying to steady himself, but his knees threatened to buckle.

The elf was the first to notice.

"... Something's wrong... Healer!" Her voice rang sharp, cutting through the silence. She turned to the healer, still on the ground. "Hurry, heal him!"

The words snapped the others out of their trance. The swordsman, realizing the severity of the situation, rushed to the healer, helping her to her feet. The rest of the party surged toward Bel.

Only Garrik remained still, his gaze locked onto Bel. Not because of his power. Not because of the fire still raging around him.

But because of what was beneath the broken mask.

Through the cracked remains of his mask, a portion of Bel's face was now visible — a face that was partially human but hauntingly different.

White hair, strands falling messily over his forehead. Red, slitted eyes glowing. Jagged scales framed the exposed side of his face, their texture smooth yet seemingly armored, blending seamlessly into his skin.

Garrik's breath hitched. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing.

"What... the hell..." he muttered under his breath.

The healer and others tried to reach him, but as they got closer, the searing heat from his aura forced them back.

"Battlemage!" the healer called out, shielding her face from the unbearable warmth. "Turn it off! I can't reach you!"

But Bel wasn't listening, he was in his own world.

[HP: 63/966... 54/966...]

His body was reaching its limit. His mind raced for a solution.

Then, an idea struck him. He had leveled up three times after the fight. That meant he had 15 unassigned stat points.

Among all his stats, there was only one that actively expanded his health: Pressure.

Without hesitation, he funneled 10 points into Pressure.

[Unassigned Stat Points: 15 → 5]

The change was immediate.

A deep, explosive force erupted from within him. His entire body tensed as a surge of power coursed through his veins, igniting every fiber of his being.

His aura detonated outward, a shockwave of raw energy blasting through the cavern.

The adventurers were thrown back, some barely managing to stay on their feet. The heat spiked to unbearable levels, forcing even the elf to retreat several steps, shielding her face from the scorching pressure radiating from him.

Bel gasped as the transformation took hold. His limbs burned, his bones stretched, his entire being twisted in response to the overwhelming surge of power.

His heartbeat pounded like war drums, deep and resounding, shaking his core.

[New Trait Acquired: Lingworm's Ascendance]

Grants an enhanced draconic state, increasing overall stats by 15% while active.

Elemental abilities are 50% more effective.

Natural resistance to status ailments.

[New Skill Unlocked: Pressure]

Effect: Exudes a powerful force that weakens enemies within range.

Debuff: Reduces all enemy stats by 20%.

Exhaustion Effect: Increases the enemy's energy consumption by 50%.

Range: 15 meters.

Duration: Passive, can be suppressed at will.

[New Skill Evolution: Goblinbane → Imp Slayer]

Increases damage dealt to lower-tier demons by 25%.

Bel staggered, but for an entirely different reason now.

He could feel it.

His entire being was changing, adapting. His vision sharpened, his breathing steadied, and his body, previously battered and poisoned, felt renewed. The pain dulled, his wound no longer sapped his strength.

His senses stretched further than before. He could feel the movements of the adventurers around him, the residual warmth of the fire that still flickered in the cavern, the flow of mana in the air itself.

And most importantly...

His Pressure filled the room, an all-consuming force that crashed down like a raging storm, suffocating everything within its reach, burning through the cavern like wildfire.

The healer gasped, her knees buckling. A strangled breath left her lips, her vision swimming as the invisible force crushed against her body.

It wasn't just heat, it was like her power was being drained, her strength slipping away with every passing second.

The archer's hands trembled as he tried to grip his bow, but his fingers felt sluggish, unresponsive. His legs wobbled, his body refusing to obey.

"Damn... I can't..." he wheezed, struggling to stand against the sheer force pressing against his chest.

The dwarves gritted their teeth, Garrik's eyes were wide, his body locked in place.

The force pressing down on them was relentless, suffocating, absolute.

Garrik felt his knees tremble, a sensation he hadn't experienced in years. His fingers twitched toward his weapon, but even he knew, there was no fighting against this.

Even breathing felt like a challenge.

Bel's eyes were black, his slitted pupils gleaming red through the haze, their glow cutting through the red waves like twin embers, his breath came out in visible steam.

Bel straightened, his breathing still ragged but steadying.

Slowly, the chaotic waves of power that had surged uncontrollably from him began to settle. The overwhelming force that had suffocated the cavern, pressing down on everything, receded.

The burning storm of his pressure dimmed until it was nothing but a whisper in the air.

His eyes were pitch black, his pupils glowing crimson slits.

His mask had shattered completely and for the first time, his face was fully revealed.

It was perfect, almost unnaturally so.

Smooth, pale skin without a single imperfection, framed by jagged reddish and black scales that curved elegantly along his jawline and temples. His features were sharp yet delicate, almost feminine in their symmetry.

Long, silken strands of white hair, streaked with deep crimson highlights, cascaded down his back. His lips parted slightly, revealing sharp, predatory fangs, and his breathing slowed further, becoming deep and composed.

His body was no longer just covered in cracks of scales, his transformation had advanced.

The scales that framed his face stretched further, running down his neck, over his shoulders, and continuing all the way to his feet. His hands were now clearly reptilian, scaled, sharp, and ending in formidable black claws.

His aura pulsed once, then finally settled, his presence no longer an oppressive storm but a quiet dominion.

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[Draconic Evolution System]

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Name: Belzerion

Title: Abyssal Tyrant

Race: Dragon

Class: Abyssal Lindworm

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Level: 42

EXP: 0/80,000

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Core Stats:

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HP: 1,250/1,250

MP: 460/460

Strength: 190

Toughness: 175

Intelligence: 165

Speed: 155

Agility: 150

Stamina: 170

Pressure: 65

Unassigned Stat Points: 5

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Draconic Core: 60%

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Unlocked Traits:

Final Wyrm:

Grants extreme endurance, rapid recovery, heightened battlefield awareness. Bloodlust further amplifies physical attributes.

Burning Soul (Advanced):

Enhances physical and mental abilities using fire-infused aura. Increases Physical and Mental strength by 50% INT. Physical attacks deal additional Abyssal Fire damage and have a 50% chance to inflict BURN status.

BURN: Causes continuous damage over time, reducing HP by 3% per second for 10 seconds. Stacks up to three times. Weakens physical defenses of the affected target.

MP Cost: 10 MP.

Detection (Advanced):

Allows the user to perceive hidden objects possessing magic. Now extends to detecting life forms, mana currents, emotional imprints, and heat signatures.

MP Cost: 5 MP.

Lingworm's Ascendance:

Grants an enhanced draconic state, increasing overall stats by 15% and elemental abilities are 50% more effective while active. Natural resistance to status ailments.

Lingworm Armor:

Grants natural armor, increasing durability and resistance to slashing and piercing attacks by 40%. Further reduces elemental damage taken by 60% of elements mastered.

Abyssal Pressure:

Exudes a dominant aura that weakens enemies within range. Reduces all enemy stats by 40%. Increases the enemy's energy consumption by 70%. Chance of inflicting FEAR status.

FEAR: reduces target's attack and defense by 30%.

Range: 30 meters

MP Cost: 15 MP.

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Unlocked Skills:

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Imp Slayer: Increases damage against lower-tier demons by 25%.

Fire Mastery (Abyssal): Fire-based attacks are 100% more effective, resistant to heat damage, and capable of absorbing ambient flames to replenish stamina. Can create Abyssal Flames that do not extinguish naturally and can consume other magical flames.

Reptilian Slayer: Increases damage against reptilian-type monsters by 25%.

Piercing Strike: Allows physical attacks to ignore 35% of enemy defenses. The effect increases with Strength.

Draconic Regeneration: Significantly boosts HP regeneration and allows passive recovery of minor wounds. Fully restores HP after a long rest.

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Bel exhaled. He could feel it.

The raw power within him, the deep transformation that had taken place. His body had now crossed the threshold, and now his body started to look like a lizardman.

And judging by the stunned expressions of the adventurers around him, a mask wouldn't be sufficient to hide that.

Nobody spoke.

Some had collapsed to their knees, still trying to process the sheer weight of what had just happened. The healer was frozen, wide-eyed with disbelief.

The archer wiped sweat from his brow, his breathing shaky. The dwarves exchanged silent glances, their expressions unreadable. Even the elf, composed as she usually was, had a bit of uncertainty in her gaze.

But unlike the others, Garrik's reaction was different.

He did not kneel. He did not falter.

Instead, his fingers tightened around his sword's hilt, the metal ringing faintly as he pulled it free from its sheath.

His stance was firm, his eyes locked onto Bel with unshaken intensity.

"What the hell... are you?"