Chapter 546 - 490: The Shackle of United Will, the Final Sword

Chapter 546: Chapter 490: The Shackle of United Will, the Final Sword

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Using the last of his strength, he gave a firm, heavy nod toward the blood-red figure in the sky.

His gaze was filled with unwavering trust and faith.

High in the sky, wreathed in Blood Qi and Dragon Mighty, Roland absorbed the desperate cries and resolute gazes of his companions below, his eyes burning with dark red Flame.

Without a shred of hesitation.

All of it—the rage, the sorrow, the vow to protect, the yearning for an end, the ferocity of the Dragon Race, the searing heat of a Frenzied Soul Burning, the icy chill of Space-Time Resonance...

In that instant, everything was forcibly gathered, compressed, and forged by a will made lucid through emotion.

Behind him, the phantom, bronze-colored Energy of his membranous wings erupted with an unprecedented, searing light. Then, the wings violently contracted and collapsed inward, as if funneling all their Power back into his body.

The surging blood mist around him was instantly sucked into his body. Beneath his skin, bulging blood vessels and bronze Scale patterns shone with a blinding light, as if he had become a blood-red star on the verge of going supernova.

The Power of Mad Soul was pushed to an extreme he himself had never imagined. The Flame of his life and soul burned furiously.

The faint glow of the Time Trace Weaver’s Engraving Blade was no longer confined to his fingertips or the edge of his sword. It spread over his entire body, merging completely with his newfound, "tamed" rage and transforming into a strange Force Field that seemed capable of directly "defining" Destruction and finality.

The characteristics of Dragonification reached their peak at this moment, yet bizarrely presented a kind of restrained, destructive "perfection".

He gripped "Bright Moon" with both hands, raising it high above his head.

The sword’s original, cool moonlight was long gone. It was now completely enveloped in destructive Energy condensed to its absolute limit—an Energy that pulsed and shifted madly between dark red, pale gold, and bronze.

Where the sword’s tip pointed, space itself spontaneously twisted and wailed as fine black cracks appeared.

The target: the core of the giant, dark red cocoon of chains!

Time seemed to stretch, then freeze for an instant.

The next moment.

Roland moved.

There was no Charge, no flashy trajectory.

He simply brought "Bright Moon," which he held high overhead, down toward the giant cocoon of chains. It was a simple motion, yet it seemed to condense his entire life’s will and the hopes of all his companions...

He swung down.

"SHHHHCK!"

An indescribable sound.

It was not the clash of metal nor an explosion of Energy, but something more fundamental—the terrifying shriek of the Law itself being forcibly "cut into" and "torn apart."

A destructive streak of light, too condensed to be looked at directly, slashed down through the sky. It was a chaotic mix of every color, yet it seemed to devour all color.

It effortlessly "sliced" through the chaotic Energy turbulence in its path, ignoring the faint resistance of space itself. It carried a sense of inevitability, a preordained certainty that it would strike its mark. With flawless precision, completely unopposed...

...it pierced the giant, dark-red cocoon of divine Chains.

The moment the streak of light cut in, countless dark-red Runes on the cocoon’s surface—symbols of forging and suppression—flickered erratically, emitting the sound of cracking under an unbearable load.

The entwined Chains trembled violently and twisted, like a layer of ice being cut by a red-hot branding iron.

All of the Destruction was carried by the streak of light, delivered deep inside the cocoon.

"URGH-AAAAAAAH!"

A scream—far clearer, more shrill, and more...

..."human" in its pain and terror than ever before—erupted from within the cocoon of chains.

The voice belonged to Yemiga.

And then...

"BOOM!"

The entire dark red cocoon of chains suddenly expanded and bulged outward from within.

Countless rays of destructive light burst out frantically from the gaps between the chains.

The cocoon’s surface was instantly covered in a dense, spiderweb-like network of blindingly bright cracks.

The binding Chains were stretched taut to their limit, then, with a grating "KREEEAAK," began to snap and shatter one by one.

Fragments of shattered, dark-red Energy mixed with the chaotic, silver-white light and destructive radiance spilling from within, scattering through the air like a magnificent firework display.

The cocoon was being forcibly...

Burst open!

Meanwhile, the core of the destructive light—its most lethal part—had already pierced through layers of divine Chains and Space-Time barriers, deeply and irrevocably...

...branding itself upon Yemiga’s very "existence."

Beneath the firmament, disintegrating Chains, erupting light, a God’s wail, and the roar of Destruction wove a tapestry of armageddon.

The scene came to an abrupt halt.

Its echoes lingered in the Storm of Destruction.

But it was not yet over.

In the heart of the Chaos—of disintegrating Chains and erupting light—the being grievously wounded by Roland’s strike of Destruction did not fall or dissipate as expected.

On the contrary.

A more ancient, vaster, and more...

"inhuman" aura.

It began to spread, irrepressibly, from deep within the shattered silver-white light and dissipating divine fragments.