Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 325 – That Man is Back

Level 8 is called Level 8 because they have mastered the Domain.

With the Soul-Devouring Domain fully unleashed, Long Jingtian was like a god within this pitch-black space.

“Ants are ants after all—no matter how many there are, they can never bite an elephant to death!”

Long Jingtian’s face twisted savagely. Every swing of his massive Dragon Claws carried the viscous power of his black Domain.

That power didn’t just corrode flesh—it was like being dragged through a quagmire with a thousand-pound boulder tied to your body, slowing every movement to a crawl.

Clang!

Lin Fan retreated explosively. Her body, which should have phased instantly under Spirit-Flesh Unity, now showed a hint of stagnation.

That single moment of delay was all it took—a black corrosive beam grazed past her shoulder.

Sssss.

Her spiritual body, supposedly immune to physical attacks, was actually scorched, a wisp of smoke rising from the wound.

“Careless.”

Lin Fan’s brows knitted tightly, her gaze grave.

Her Mental Strength at the mid-7th level was vast, but in a confrontation at this level, she was still at too great a disadvantage.

Under that old bastard’s Domain interference, her Spiritualization had become sluggish.

“Xiao Wu! Fall back!”

Long Teng was drenched in blood, his cyan longsword chipped in several places, yet he still stood firmly in front of Lin Fan.

“Fall back? None of you are leaving today!”

Long Jingtian saw Lin Fan’s predicament, and the killing intent in his eyes surged.

That little girl’s abilities were strange, but under his Domain, she still showed openings.

As long as he killed her, Long Teng and that bastard child would completely collapse.

“Die!”

Long Jingtian abandoned his suppression of Long Teng. His massive body folded with astonishing agility in midair.

In that instant, he burned his origin dragon blood.

His speed tripled!

The black Dragon Claws seemed to tear through space itself, appearing above Lin Fan’s head in an instant, slamming down with the will to kill without mercy.

Rеαd оո ΚаtReаdіnɡСafe

This strike sealed off the space around her.

Lin Fan had no way to dodge.

“Damn it.” Lin Fan’s pupils contracted. She pushed her Spiritualization to its limit, trying to forcibly phase out of existence.

But then—

Just as Lin Fan was halfway through her phasing, the pitch-black sky was suddenly dyed a ghastly blood-red.

Boom—!

A mountain of flesh, carrying a desperate, reckless momentum, crashed sideways into the battlefield.

No defense.

No evasion.

It simply took the blow head-on, using its own spine to absorb Long Jingtian’s killing strike.

Squelch!

The sound of claws sinking into flesh made one’s scalp crawl.

A torrent of scorching, crimson dragon blood rained down like a storm, drenching Lin Fan completely.

Lin Fan froze.

She looked up at the colossal figure shielding her from above.

It was the Fallen Magic Dragon.

A gash dozens of meters long had been torn across the scales on its back, deep enough to expose bone. The black corrosive energy was frantically eating away at its flesh.

Pain.

Agonizing pain.

“Roar…”

The Demonic Dragon let out a low, mournful cry. Its massive head slowly lowered.

Those crimson eyes—once filled only with chaos and Tyranny—now held a tenderness that was impossible to understand.

It gazed at Lin Fan, covered in blood, its enormous pupils trembling.

“Qing… Qingyue…”

The voice was squeezed from the depths of its throat—hoarse, broken, like a child just learning to speak.

Rеaⅾ οn KαtRеaⅾiոgCafе

“Don’t… don’t be afraid… Big brother is here…”

A single turbid blood-tear slid down from its savage eye corner, splashing into the mud at Lin Fan’s feet.

Lin Fan, still in his spiritualized state, hovered frozen in midair.

Long Qingyue? This demonic dragon was Long Qingyue’s elder brother?

What the hell kind of twist was this?

“You’re asking for death!”

Long Jingtian, enraged by his missed strike, flew into a fury.

“Since you want to die in her place, I’ll grant you that wish!”

With a vicious grin, the claws embedded in the demonic dragon’s back suddenly tightened, and the black Soul-Devouring Domain surged violently into the wound.

He was going to detonate this beast from within!

“ROAR!!”

The demonic dragon howled at the heavens, its body convulsing violently.

That was the agony of a soul being torn apart.

But it did not retreat.

Even as every bone in its body creaked and cracked, even as its life force drained away at terrifying speed, it remained like a great mountain, shielding the girl beneath it with unyielding resolve.

The floodgates of memory, under the ultimate torment, collapsed completely.

Scenes from fifteen years ago flashed through its mind like a revolving lantern.

—”Brother, you must survive.”

—”As long as you’re alive, the branch family still has hope.”

—”Pureblood Dragon Clan! Even if I become a monster… I will have my revenge!!”

Thump!

A dull heartbeat suddenly resounded across the entire swamp.

Then a second. A third.

Thump! Thump!

Reαd оn КаtRеaⅾiոɡСαfе

The heartbeat was powerful and forceful, drowning out even the thunder, numbing the claw Long Jingtian had embedded in the demonic dragon’s back.

“What?”

Long Jingtian’s expression shifted, a foreboding sense of dread enveloping his entire body.

He felt as though what he was gripping was not a dying beast, but a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Crack.

A black scale peeled off the demonic dragon’s body.

Then a second. A third…

Those black scales representing corruption and decay fell away in large sheets like aged bark.

And beneath that dead black skin, a blinding, unbearable golden light burst forth like a blazing sun!

“This aura…”

Long Yan in the distance shuddered, the Golden Dragon Bloodline within him resonating uncontrollably.

That was… the source!

An aura purer and more ancient than his own!

AWOO—!!

A dragon’s cry.

No longer the rasping, grating roar from before.

But a pure, majestic, awe-inspiring true dragon’s voice, filled with dignity and dominance!

BOOM!

Centered on the demonic dragon, a pillar of golden light shot straight into the sky, piercing through the thick layers of clouds.

Long Jingtian’s “Soul-Devouring Domain,” under the impact of that golden radiance, melted and dispersed instantly like snow meeting magma.

“No… impossible…”

Long Jingtian was hurled back several hundred meters by the terrifying shockwave. Steadying himself, he stared fixedly at the center of the light pillar, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

His body trembled.

Not from injury, but from fear.

A fear etched into his very bones—a fear from fifteen years ago.

Rеαd оn КаtReаdіոɡСafe

The light faded.

The bloated, hideous Fallen Magic Dragon was gone.

In its place stood a Five-Clawed Golden Dragon over a hundred meters in length!

Every one of its scales seemed forged from pure gold, flowing with divine radiance; its dragon whiskers drifted through the air, slicing the void itself; its eyes were no longer blood-red, but had transformed into vertical pupils burning with golden flames.

Majestic. Sacred. Unrivaled.

It coiled in midair like a god-king overlooking all living things.

And around its body, a golden Domain slowly unfolded.

Wherever the golden light touched, all things bowed in submission.

“The Golden Dragon Domain…”

Long Jingtian’s voice trembled, his teeth chattering, “It really is you…”

“Long… Long Yi!”

Fifteen years ago.

It was this man.

Though merely a lowly branch family member, relying on his mutated atavistic bloodline, he had carved his way through half the Pureblood Dragon Clan.

If not for the Grand Elder and the Dragon Emperor personally intervening to suppress him back then, at least half of the Pureblood Dragon Clan would have died in that battle.

Long Jingtian had only just been a newly promoted Eighth-Rank Elder back then, and he was pinned to the ground and ground into the dirt by this mad dragon, nearly having his Dragon Bone dug out.

That shadow had tormented him for a full fifteen years.

That was why, for these fifteen years, he had frantically suppressed the branch families. Whenever he saw a seedling with even a hint of talent—whether it was Long Yan or anyone else—he would nip it in the bud without hesitation.

Because he was afraid.

Afraid that another Long Yi would emerge.

But now.

That man had returned.

“Long… Long Yi?” Long Teng leaned on his sword, gazing at the resplendent figure in the sky, tears streaming down his aged face.

“So that’s it—back then, Qingyue hid you in the Death Swamp…”