Dragon.
A creature shrouded in legends.
It is said that they dwell in deeply concealed multiverse rifts.
Appearing in the world only during certain eras.
Brutal, powerful, enigmatic.
These are the impressions humans have crafted about the Dragon Clan from countless historical records.
But people often forget one thing—
The dragon dove off the cliff, rushing downward. Halfway through its descent, it suddenly transformed into a man clad in a crimson robe, landing softly before the group.
His features were as if carved by a blade—lips razor-thin, a nose sharp as a mountain peak, and a pair of vertical pupils piercingly fierce, as though capable of slicing through anything.
His words carried undeniable cruelty:
"Kill each other."
"Slaughter those next to you, and then kill yourselves in front of me."
His words seemed to carry an unholy power.
Everyone instinctively began to lift their weapons towards the nearest person.
"Brother Ye!"
Zhang Xiaoyi cried out in a panic.
