Chapter 346: Sealing Wyoming

Present day, Wyoming.

Reporter Janet Clare's scream mingled with the sound of volcanic ash striking the plane's bulletproof glass: "The magma is advancing at eighty kilometers per hour, the whole pine forest behind us is on fire!" As the camera shook violently, viewers saw an orange‑red giant wave rising on the horizon, like the fire that destroyed Sodom in the Bible.

All radio channels repeated the Geological Survey's warning: "The ash cloud will cover the entire Northern Hemisphere within seventy‑two hours."

In the Pentagon's underground command center, twenty‑four monitors displayed the doomsday countdown. Geologist Howard stared at the expanding crimson blotch on the thermal image, his tea cup slipping to the floor: "Damn! Yellowstone's vent is already over fifteen kilometers wide!"

General Crawford had no patience for the hellish scene and roared for everyone to focus on the dragon's appearance: "Where is the dragon?!"

An intelligence officer said cautiously: "The dragon entered Yellowstone's interior a minute ago and has not emerged yet."

Crawford's face darkened, his prominent hooked nose pointing like a blade at the officer: "Then keep investigating! Damn fool, a volcano erupting like this must be that dragon's doing!"

Howard let out a helpless snort: "It's clearly your nuclear weapons—"

"I advise you to watch your words, sir!" Crawford barked, cutting him off.

At that moment, the officer's excited voice rang out: "One thousand feet above Yellowstone! The dragon has appeared!"

Naimi Xisi folded his wings and hovered at five thousand meters altitude, orange vertical pupils reflecting the boiling earth below. The ash cloud rolled beneath him like an inverted black sea, billions of tons of magma surging out of Yellowstone's vent. The seven‑hundred‑ton silver body suddenly became a moon‑like meteor, diving at supersonic speed along the state border and leaving a dazzling plasma tail.

Having just left the library, he had no intention of heading straight to the reverse world; he refused to watch the ash spread and destroy the planet, so he decided to deal with this first.

But let the whole state's annihilation teach those foolish United States citizens a lesson.

tasyapathaviparyayamnashyatu——

The dragon‑language incantation tore the atmosphere; the sonic boom from Naimi Xisi's flight created a ring of clouds that detonated repeatedly over the Rocky Mountains. Each shockwave sweeping the ground caused basalt to reveal glowing runes up to thirty meters deep—binding spells written with dragon blood as ink and earthquakes as brush.

"What is it doing?!" Crawford asked anxiously, watching the rapidly flying dragon on the radar.

The officer stammered: "According to—according to the footage, that dragon seems to be flying along Wyoming's border, stopping every five thousand feet and leaving an unknown glyph pattern."

Indeed, Naimi Xisi was carving a rune formation that covers the entire state of Wyoming.

A ritual array of this scale could not, in theory, be completed by a single Spellcaster in a day. Wyoming's border stretches three hundred kilometers; even hundreds of level‑16 Mages working together would drain their mana and still fail!

But Naimi Xisi was different now; Mind Power had already amplified his mana tenfold, and the very nature of his soul's higher‑dimensionalization caused his mental affinity for mana to skyrocket.

At this moment, Naimi Xisi's personal mana could match an entire kingdom's legion of Mages.

Thanks to his colossal mana, he could sustain a protective array centered on Wyoming, extending three hundred kilometers in all directions.

Moreover, using the amplified power for the final ritual would greatly strengthen the shield, turning it into a 360‑degree, dead‑zone‑free barrier that completely isolates Wyoming.

Neither earthquakes, lava nor ash could escape the ritual's domain. The only victims would be the ordinary people still clinging to life in Wyoming, who would be burned to charcoal inside an airtight coffin.

The silver‑winged dragon streaked across the sky like a meteor, scattering heaps of magic gems with each landing, which pained Naimi Xisi. By his estimate, completing such a massive ritual would require at least three tons of magic gems.

That would consume almost half of his output from the magical ore vein on the Maztek Continent.

Fortunately, during this period he had been daily using a limited Wishcraft to conjure duplicate magic gems from nothing, greatly easing his burden.

When he swept over southern Wyoming, the CBS‑broadcast helicopter was violently tossed by the magical turbulence he generated, the cameraman clutching his lens. On screen, the dragon performed a miracle along Wyoming's border: on its seventh pass over Pikes Peak, the mountain erupted emerald columns of light, and the snow‑melted ridge revealed mysterious runes woven from lightning.

"Oh God, it's reshaping the continental plates!" In the CNN studio, a once‑rabid geologist ripped off his tie, pointing at the suddenly calm seismic monitor. Before twenty‑three million televisions across the United States, housewives clutched crucifixes, children leaned against the screens, veteran soldiers trembled and saluted—everyone watched the dragon draw a golden line across the lava river with its tail tip, and the boiling magma began to flow backward as if blocked by an invisible dam.

nakatraanetaahaasmi!

As the incantation ended, Naimi Xisi's scales peeled away under the violently expanding mana pressure. The Space‑Time rift generated by his spatial jump tore at his body, yet Juan Ce Long continued to flash among the twelve ley‑line nodes. When the final rune lit up outside Wyoming's outskirts, the entire state's surface rose into a translucent magical canopy. Ash striking the barrier rippled purple, tens of thousands of dragon‑language characters swirled across the luminous film like a seal penned by God himself.

"It's the devil's bargain!" In the Pentagon, Crawford could not accept that the dragon had become their savior, screaming at the satellite images. Yet the crowds on the streets had already knelt, watching the news footage of the sky clearing, magma solidifying into dark‑red amber at the heart of the magical array. The televisions in shop windows suddenly switched to a new feed, showing Naimi Xisi's scar‑covered dragon body.

The apocalyptic ash spreading across the sky resembled a black abyss devouring the heavens; the silver dragon shed golden blood, its scales tearing away as the one‑time manipulation of massive mana ripped them apart.

He, like the Christ of ancient myth, offered his flesh to secure humanity's hope of survival.

At some point, a shaft of light pierced the dense ash, bathing the silver dragon; the shattered body, imbued with a sacred aura, froze in everyone's mind.

It is truly transcendent, a messenger saving the United States.

The American viewers in front of their TVs had reddened eyes, praying devoutly.

At that moment, the show‑off Naimi Xisi watched the helicopter filming him, suppressing a grin. Yes, he wanted these foolish mortals to worship him as a deity, sparing him from their constant meddling.

Moreover, he used magic to record the US Military's release of nuclear weapons that triggered Yellowstone's eruption, intending to have Doctor Brunner expose it.

When the time comes, those Americans will soon learn that the US Military are the evil schemers behind the apocalyptic disaster.

He, however, is merely an innocent dragon who stumbled here and intervened out of compassion for a United States on the brink of destruction.

Thinking of that, Naimi Xisi could barely contain a laugh.

He waved at the helicopter, acknowledging that they had captured a timeless shot of him, and said, "The seal is about to activate; if you don't want to stay here and die, leave immediately."

The reporter on the helicopter stared dumbfounded for a heartbeat, then seemed to realize something and hurriedly ordered the pilot to retreat.

(End of Chapter)