The blood-red axe crashed into the ground with a bang. If the ice dragon hadn’t dodged, its head would’ve been split.
Bingpo’s a genius. With just a sliver of Filo’s skills, she wielded them like a pro. That axe swing? Slicker than Filo’s one-time try.
The ice dragon’s lifeless eyes stared at the axe. Like the corpse dragon, it’s a husk, but unlike the corpse dragon’s special-skill-driven pseudo-life, this one’s pure puppet, stats preserved, controlled by the third floor’s consciousness.
[Blood Clan skill! Crap, I’m reporting her for cheating!]
The ice dragon stepped back, itching to complain. But to whom? The white dragon, the only higher-up, was by the Blood Clan’s side…
Blood threads shot out, weaving around the ice dragon. It roared, blasting chilling mist to freeze them. It worked—Bingpo’s threads, weaker than Filo’s, were a feint. The real attack? Hidden below.
Bingpo twitched a finger. The ground under the ice dragon cracked. Those scattered threads were a distraction; the true threads lurked beneath.
The ice dragon plummeted, wings unopened. Loose threads snapped tight, binding it!
[Oh no!]
“Fall to Master’s power!” Bingpo snapped her fingers, unleashing a skill even Filo never used.
[Blood Explosion]
The threads glowed red, like bombs pre-detonation. And they were bombs—way deadlier.
Boom!!
The threads erupted, scorching air blasting everywhere. Bingpo’s ice skills finally shone, conjuring a thick ice wall. But the meters-thick wall melted visibly—imagine that heat!
Even Chiyan, a red dragon, not a fire dragon, crossed her arms and squinted. No absolute fire immunity, just high resistance, but still…
Blood Explosion is a Blood Clan trump card, even for high-tiers. Not just for damage—it’s versatile, pairing with threads for unavoidable strikes. One miss, and it’s fatal.
Filo, watching, felt enlightened. This is in my skill set? In her weakened state, it could maybe one-shot big shots. Like~
She side-eyed the white dragon, who, oblivious, gaped at the fight.
The blue girl used Blood Clan skills?!
Can you do that? So, the True Ancestor was pulling strings? Unheard-of skill—her power’s unreal… Crap, why am I muttering? Do something, or it’s too late!
Snapping back, the white dragon turned to Filo. “The fourth floor’s leagues above the first three. Red and blue girls are tough, but it’s no joke—they can’t pass. Pull them out.”
She paused. The unspoken part: unless they cheat again.
Why’s the fourth floor harder? Simple. Other races get 100 floors; dragons get 10, split into three stages. The fourth floor starts medium difficulty, meant for level 700–800 powerhouses. Bingpo and Chiyan? Mid-600s.
Even with special skills or Blood Clan tricks, a 100–200 level gap is brutal.
Filo nodded. Keep going? Too risky. She helped Bingpo this time, but next? No guarantee.
As she agreed, two white beams appeared. Bingpo and Chiyan stepped out, waving.
“Yo, Master!”
“Master, we’re back!”
Filo blinked. “Why’re you out?”
“Duh, it’s obvious,” Bingpo said, arms crossed, grinning. “Third floor was rough. Fourth’s gotta be way worse—probably leagues tougher. We’re not dumb enough to keep going.”
Bingpo’s sharp—nailing the smart call without prompting.
Filo was about to praise them when Chiyan, arms crossed, pouted, clearly miffed.
“Pfft, I could’ve kept going. I’m a red dragon, not a fire dragon—no targeting like Bingpo. With my Passionate Explosion, no way I’d—” Whack! “Ow! Bingpo, why’d you hit me?!”
“Because you picked intelligence on the third floor, I got targeted! Without Master’s help, I’d be toast!”
Bingpo and Chiyan brawled, yanking each other’s cheeks. These frenemies fight anywhere.
Filo’s used to it. If they ever got along like real sisters, that’d be weird.
The white dragon, stunned, gawked. Dragon hierarchy’s strict—when did disciples get so bold with their master?
And the True Ancestor enjoys this?
Crap, their vibe’s unreadable. What’s this True Ancestor planning?
Whatever. I’m “dead.” Not my problem.
The white dragon gave up thinking.