Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 234 – The Might of Level Eight

Deep within the Death Swamp.

A gray mist shrouded the area year-round, and the air was filled with the mixed stench of rotting plants and poisonous miasma. This was a forbidden zone for life; even fifth or sixth-level magical beasts dared not tread lightly into this core region.

A streak of black light tore through the gray mist, forcefully plowing a vacuum channel through the air above the swamp.

Long Jingtian hovered in mid-air, his expression so dark it looked like water could drip from it.

The terrifying pressure of an eighth-level expert was released without reservation. The swamp water below seemed to boil, bubbling and gurgling as countless poisonous insects and strange beasts hidden in the sludge had their internal organs shattered by the sheer force of his aura, floating to the surface belly-up.

“Jingyun…”

Long Jingtian’s gaze was like lightning as he scanned the ravaged battlefield below.

A brutal battle had just taken place here.

The ground was cracked, and scorched marks stretched for several miles in every direction.

Those were the traces left by high-level Dragon Breath.

With a flash, his figure landed beside a huge pile of withered bones.

There lay a completely carbonized corpse.

The body was curled up, its face long since unrecognizable, but the lingering aura, unique to the Pureblood Dragon Clan of his lineage, could not be faked.

With a trembling hand, Long Jingtian picked up a slightly misshapen storage pouch from beside the corpse.

He probed it with his divine sense.

Inside were Jingyun’s usual weapons, medicinal pills, and some personal items that only the father and son knew about.

“Ahhh!!!”

Long Jingtian threw his head back and roared, the sound waves rolling out and scattering the surrounding gray mist.

Although he had been mentally prepared, seeing his son’s body with his own eyes still drove him to the brink of madness with the pain of his loss.

“Hm?”

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After venting, Long Jingtian’s gloomy eyes suddenly locked onto something in the sludge not far from the corpse.

There was a jarring splash of black and white.

With a grasp of his hand, the object flew into his palm.

It was a tattered maid’s outfit.

The fabric was stained with blood and had been torn in two.

At the tear, there were several shocking, enormous teeth marks. The marks were irregularly ripped, clearly bitten through in one go by some kind of giant creature.

Long Jingtian’s pupils constricted.

He recognized this outfit.

It was worn by Jingyun’s favorite maid, the one called Xueqi or something.

Jingyun treasured this maid, taking her everywhere he went.

An image instantly formed in his mind:

The eighth-level Fallen Demon Dragon launched a surprise attack, biting the maid in half.

To save her, Jingyun recklessly charged forward to fight the demon dragon to the death, but was ultimately overpowered and burned alive by the Dragon Breath it spat out.

“Foolish!”

Long Jingtian clenched the tattered maid’s outfit tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“To throw away your own life for a lowly, branch-family maid! Utterly foolish!”

Though he cursed aloud, the killing intent in his eyes grew ever stronger.

He slowly turned, his gaze falling upon the deeper parts of the swamp.

There, a massive nest was built from countless white bones.

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A nauseating, foul stench, mixed with the unique aura of Tyranny characteristic of an eighth-level magical beast, was continuously emanating from it.

“Vile beast.”

Long Jingtian squeezed the two words through his teeth.

Since his son died trying to save someone, died at the hands of this beast, then this debt would be settled with this beast.

Even an eighth-level magical beast would have to pay with its life for killing his son!

Boom!

A blinding black light erupted from Long Jingtian’s body, and in an instant, he transformed into a black dragon with a wingspan of over a hundred meters.

Its Dragon Scales were like iron, its Dragon horns were menacing, and its scarlet draconic eyes burned with the flames of vengeance.

“Roar—”

A dragon’s cry shattered the heavens.

With a beat of its wings, the black dragon, carrying a world-destroying momentum, charged straight toward the nest of white bones.

“Vile beast! Get out here and die!”

…

Dozens of kilometers away.

The black carriage, which had been traveling smoothly, suddenly jolted violently.

The four single-horned, scaled horses pulling the carriage seemed to have been spooked by something. They let out panicked neighs, their legs went soft, and they collapsed directly to the ground, trembling.

“Whoa—”

The coachman desperately pulled on the reins but could do nothing to calm the terrified animals.

Inside the carriage.

Lin Fan frowned gravely.

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She looked through the window in the direction of the Death Swamp.

Even from such a distance, the terrifying fluctuations coming from the horizon still made the air feel thick and viscous.

In the sky, the originally gray clouds were being stirred by an invisible force, forming a huge vortex.

Faintly, one could hear the dull, thunderous sounds of impacts.

It was the collision of pure power.

Each strike felt as if it were landing on one’s own heart.

“They’re fighting.”

Long Yan sat opposite her, his expression solemn.

When he was in the Death Swamp earlier, a single casual blow from that eighth-level demon dragon had severely injured him.

And now, the energy fluctuations from a head-on battle between two eighth-level beings were countless times stronger.

The ancient divine dragon Bloodline in his body was drawn by this aura and began to circulate automatically, causing a faint golden light to appear on his skin, resisting the pressure.

“Eighth-level…”

Long Yan clenched his fists, a trace of fear flashing in his eyes. “Is this the power of an eighth-level expert?”

As an early-stage seventh-level, he had believed that with his ancient Bloodline, he could contend with a mid-stage seventh-level.

But facing the aftershocks from dozens of kilometers away, he felt a sense of powerlessness.

It was like an ant looking up at an elephant.

“Yeah, eighth-level.”

Lin Fan leaned back against the soft cushion, picked up a grape from the floor, and casually tossed it out the window.

Although her expression seemed nonchalant, deep within her golden eyes lay a profound wariness.

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Too strong.

And this was just an early-stage eighth-level.

If it were the legendary ninth-level Dragon Emperor from Long Wu’s memories, what kind of scene would that be?

“Good thing we ran fast.”

Lin Fan patted her chest, feeling a little scared in hindsight. “If that old guy had been a little more careful on the scene, or if that demon dragon had temporarily regained its senses, the two of us would probably have been turned to ash by now.”

Long Yan glanced at her. “Didn’t you say your setup was flawless?”

“Flawless?”

Lin Fan scoffed and extended her foot, kicking Long Yan’s calf. “What flawless scheme is there in this world? So-called perfection is just about exploiting information gaps and the other party’s emotions.”

She looked down at her own feet, clad in black silk stockings.

Her toes were rounded with a faint pinkish hue, looking particularly alluring wrapped in the black silk.

In truth, she was panicking inside.

If the “teeth marks” and the corpse were examined carefully, there were flaws.

Time had been too tight, so she could only rely on her knowledge of biology and use her Mental Strength to forcefully “gnaw” them out.

Although she had fooled Long Teng, Long Jingtian was an eighth-level expert with meticulous Mental Strength.

What if he discovered there was no demon dragon saliva residue on the teeth marks?

What if he discovered that the fabric fibers were torn in the wrong direction?

“I hope that eighth-level demon dragon puts up a good fight.”

Lin Fan clasped her hands together, praying without a hint of sincerity.

“It’d be best if it bashes that old guy’s brains out, so he won’t have the energy to study that tattered piece of clothing.”