Skinwalker Belle – Chapter 326 – How is the Seniority Calculated?

The golden radiance was not blinding, yet it carried a suffocating weight.

Under that light, Long Jingtian’s proud Soul-Devouring Domain sizzled like snow meeting boiling oil, rapidly dissolving.

The viscous, dark, corrosive black space was forcibly pried open by the domineering Golden Dragon Qi.

No fancy techniques.

Pure, unadulterated suppression through raw power.

“This… this is way too overpowered!”

Lin Fan floated in mid-air, his body still in its ethereal state, but his eyes were wide as saucers.

In his field of vision.

The hundred-meter-long Five-Clawed Golden Dragon moved.

A simple flick of its tail.

Boom!

Space shattered like glass struck by a hammer, cracks spreading everywhere.

Long Jingtian’s massive body, swatted like a fly, was sent hurtling deep into the mire by that single tail strike.

The earth split apart, mud geysering a thousand meters into the air.

“ROAR—!”

Long Jingtian let out a miserable shriek as most of the black scales on his body exploded off, revealing writhing flesh tinged with Soul-Devouring aura.

He was trembling.

Not from pain—from fear.

That terror carved into his very marrow, festering for fifteen years, erupted all at once.

“Long Yi! You can’t kill me! The Grand Elder will find you—”

“Annoying.”

The Five-Clawed Golden Dragon opened its massive maw, its voice booming like a great bell, rattling eardrums.

The next second.

A colossal golden dragon claw descended from the heavens, ignoring the layers of defensive barriers on Long Jingtian’s body, and pressed directly down onto his dragon head.

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Crack!

The sound of skull shattering was unmistakable.

Long Jingtian’s enormous head was forcibly shoved into the mud, leaving him only able to let out muffled whimpers.

This was a beatdown.

A complete, one-sided slaughter.

Lin Fan watched from mid-air with great amusement.

Suddenly, his gaze lingered on Long Yi’s majestic, awe-inspiring form for two seconds, then turned to look at Long Yan in the distance—who was equally stunned, radiating golden light all over.

His expression turned somewhat strange.

These two dragons…

Don’t they look a little too similar?

Aside from the difference in size and aura intensity, the curve of their dragon horns, the arrangement of their scales, even that fierce edge that only surfaced when fighting for one’s life—

They were practically cut from the same mold.

“Cheap uncle is a Five-Clawed Golden Dragon, and this fool is also a Five-Clawed Golden Dragon…”

Lin Fan stroked his chin, a bold conjecture forming in his mind.

Could these two be father and son?

Back then, when Long Yi fled in defeat, if he’d left behind a seed…

“Hiss…”

Lin Fan sucked in a sharp breath.

If Long Yan really was Long Yi’s son, then by seniority, Long Wu would be Long Yan’s cousin.

Isn’t this script a little too ahead of its time?

Even German orthopedics wouldn’t dare write this.

Just as Lin Fan’s mind wandered, the battle below took a sudden turn.

Long Jingtian, ground into the dirt, clearly had no intention of dying like this.

“You want me dead?! Dream on!!”

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Long Jingtian let out a desperate roar.

Then.

His broken, mangled body suddenly began to swell, the Dragon Bone within driving all his Soul-Devouring Power, burning the last of his Life Origin.

A destructive aura erupted from within him.

Self-detonation?

No.

He was using this illusion to force Long Yi back, buying himself a sliver of hope to survive.

Boom!

A massive cloud of black mist exploded, knocking Long Yi’s golden dragon claw back half a meter.

Seizing that instant of opening.

Long Jingtian transformed into a streak of black light, not charging toward Long Yi, nor toward Lin Fan, but in the opposite direction—frantically fleeing toward the outskirts of the swamp.

His speed was astonishing, nearly burning half his life force to achieve such extreme velocity.

“Trying to run?”

Long Yi snorted coldly, his massive body just beginning to give chase.

At that moment.

A cyan light, without any warning, blazed to life along Long Jingtian’s escape route.

The light was not dazzling—it was even somewhat dim.

Like a candle flame in the wind.

But it was exceptionally steadfast.

It was Long Teng.

The city lord of Border Dragon City, drenched in blood, his spiritual sword riddled with cracks.

He stood like a silent reef, firmly blocking the path Long Jingtian had to take.

He had waited for this moment for far too long.

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So long that gray hairs had grown at his temples, so long that the sword in his hand had nearly rusted.

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!”

Long Jingtian looked at the obstructing Long Teng, a flicker of disdain and fury in his eyes.

A crippled seventh-rank dragon dares to block the path of an eighth-rank?

Even if he were a severely wounded eighth-rank, killing a seventh-rank was as easy as turning his hand!

The black streak showed no sign of slowing, crashing straight into Long Teng.

Long Teng did not dodge.

His refined, pale face bore no expression at all—only his eyes, blazing with a terrifying light.

“This sword… is named Qingyue.”

He whispered softly.

The broken sword in his hand, with no ornate technique, was simply thrust forward.

In that instant.

All his essence, spirit, and vitality—even his soul filled with regret and love—merged into that single strike.

No sound was made.

It was as if the world had been reduced to that single, mournfully beautiful flash of cyan.

Pfft.

A soft sound.

Long Jingtian’s massive body, carrying terrifying momentum, came to an eerie halt the moment it collided with that broken sword.

Then.

A hair-thin line of blood emerged from his neck.

“You…”

Long Jingtian’s eyes bulged as he stared in disbelief at the man he had always regarded as an ant.

How is this possible?

How could this sword… have cut through his defenses?

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His vision began to spin and tumble.

He saw his own headless body, still frozen in its charging posture, but already falling toward the ground.

I’m dead?

That was the last thought to cross Long Jingtian’s mind.

Thud.

The massive dragon head crashed into the mud, splashing up a spray of filthy sludge.

And the headless eighth-rank dragon body sprayed blood like a golden fountain, drenching Long Teng from head to toe.

“Hah…”

The broken sword in Long Teng’s hand completely shattered, dissolving into specks of starlight.

He looked at the corpse on the ground, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Qingyue, did you see that…”

“I avenged you.”

Before the words even faded.

Long Teng’s body suddenly lurched.

The dragon blood splattered across him did not slide off—instead, like living things, it burrowed madly into his body through his pores and wounds.

It was Long Jingtian’s origin poison.

And the final curse of the Soul-Devouring Domain.

“Urgh…”

Long Teng let out a pained groan, his already pallid face instantly turning deathly gray.

Black patterns crawled across his body like venomous snakes, frenziedly devouring the last of his vitality.

His flame of life, like a candle in the wind, guttered out to its very last ember.

Her body went limp and she fell straight backward.

“Father!”