Chapter 370: Become a Frog

Dimensional Exile!

"Big Cat?" Nagris jolted in surprise, looking up at Lightning's head; Ange also tilted his head to look.

Seeing Ange look over, Big Cat instantly stiffened its ears—never before exposed beyond its fur—and shook its head frantically.

"Not it? Then is it Xiludi?" Nagris murmured.

Far away in the Star Union, Xiludi suddenly sneezed, utterly unaware she had nearly been blamed for a massive mishap.

Soon, her suspicion was cleared as several creatures turned from another street—the leader had a long neck, two short arms, thick hind limbs, a long tail, and fine iron-gray scales.

Everyone involuntarily turned to Nagris; Nagris was stunned too—except for lacking wings and a large belly, and having a longer torso proportion, this was unmistakably a bipedal dragon.

"Dragon descendant?" Nagris exclaimed in shock.

Unfortunately, none present was a dragon; Nagris was in fact a lich, unable to sense whether the other was a dragon descendant.

But the creature had also spotted Ange and the others; from its reaction, some clues emerged—it too was startled, then cried out in delight:

"Huh? A young dragon? Oh my, wonderful! There's a young dragon here? Grab it, drain its blood!"

The bipedal dragon instantly forgot about the Arcane Mage, pointing at Nagris with a giant hand and shouting excitedly—clearly, draining dragon blood mattered far more to it than the Arcane Mage.

Beside the bipedal dragon stood four strong humans; at the command, the frontmost human sneered: "Arcane Dragon Mage, as you wish. Ulas serves you."

Hearing Ulas's words, the other humans looked somewhat resigned but still crossed their arms and stopped, as if planning to watch? Did they truly believe one human could crush the opposite side and seize the "young dragon"?

The Arcane Phoenix had already foretold an Arcane Mage nearby—where did these fools get such confidence?

Though unbelievable, these people truly thought so: Ulas stepped forward alone, scales surging over his body.

"Huh?" Many on Ange's side were startled, glancing at Ange—isn't this Dragon God Transformation?

Nagris clearly heard their confusion and hurriedly said: "Dragon Chiang! It's Dragon Chiang! Dragon Chiang transformation—be careful!"

"Got it." Lu Se stepped forward, solemnly pulling out a beetroot and chewing it loudly.

Misha was baffled: "I told you to be careful, not to eat! Why are you acting weird? I don't date weirdos."

Lu Se smiled carefree, sweeping his hand across the Arbiter's Sword: "My love belongs only to it—the Dragon Wen steel core #￥amp; mp; amp; mp; *# Posuizhe ·Arbiter's Sword."

He spoke too fast; Misha didn't catch it, but confirmed one thing: this man truly was a weirdo, then silently stepped two paces away.

Du Luo Ken rested his chin on his hand, pondering: "These are Dragon Chiangs—so is this bipedal creature truly a dragon descendant? Do you know it?"

Nagris awkwardly replied: "There are so many dragon descendants—how could I know them all? I don't recognize it."

Du Luo Ken blinked, recalling legends about dragon descendants, then his expression cleared in sudden understanding.

Nagris smiled weakly, too exhausted to explain—dragons had been terrible at dragon descendant lineage; some dragon descendants were single-line descendants, with no one knowing if they'd awaken or mutate—only a ghost would track every dragon descendant's pedigree.

But regardless of type, all dragon descendants inevitably carried dragon blood and possessed notable talents—whether in magic, martial qi, or knowledge acquisition—they far surpassed ordinary people.

This "Arcane Dragon Mage" was clearly a powerful spellcaster, dismissing even Arcane Mages—no one knew his true level.

Dragon Chiangs were beings corrupted by dragon blood or aura—like Xiao Bu.

In lineage, Dragon Chiangs were even more chaotic than dragon descendants, and outcomes weren't always beneficial.

Some creatures corrupted by ice dragon power became perpetually cold-sensitive, developing frostbites whenever temperatures dropped, suffering terribly.

Others corrupted by red dragon power became heat-averse, hating sunlight, desperate to hide in ice cellars.

Of course, there were positive effects too: some Dragon Chiangs were immensely strong, with vigorous blood and qi, capable of seven rounds of vigor nightly, cultivating martial qi several times faster than ordinary people.

Or they advanced in magic at astonishing speed—far surpassing those who'd eaten fire dragon fruit their entire lives.

Moreover, aura corruption could be controlled: too much was bad, but just enough was a tremendous blessing—sometimes even better than being a dragon descendant.

The Ulas and his companions before him were Dragon Chiangs with perfect corruption—each physically robust, with no visible defects, able to control their Dragon Chiang transformation at will.

Ulas's body swelled, fine scales covering his vital areas and limbs, layering over his armor to boost defense; he drew his greatsword from his back, gripping it as aura flared unpredictably at its tip.

Misha involuntarily gasped: "No good—High Rank Sword Saint! Weirdo, move aside, let me handle this!"

She flipped open a bottle of glowing blue potion, ready to drink—but before she could unscrew it, her hand was empty; the potion vanished.

Turning her head, she saw the potion now in Du Luo Ken's hand; he held it half-closed-eyed, studying it, murmuring: "Huh? Magic potion? I heard rumors people once developed potions to restore mana—finally get to see one."

Misha couldn't help rolling her eyes—this kid looked young but spoke like an old man. Magic potions had been invented over a thousand years ago—how could he claim never to have seen one?

Just admit you're poor, no need for excuses. Fine.

Thinking Du Luo Ken might be poor, Misha didn't snatch it back; instead, she pulled out a second potion, drank it while turning her gaze back to the scene—but what she saw nearly made her spit.

Lu Se, surrounded by a half-ring of solidified aura, sliced off the enemy's head with one sword stroke.

"T-Truth Ring? Truth Sword?" Misha cried in shock—she couldn't remember how many times she'd been stunned today: first a mage rivaling the Flame God, now a Truth Sword?

Misha turned, her gaze sweeping over Du Luo Ken, Fei Ti, Big Cat, Lightning, and He Mo Er—could these unassuming figures all be this level of powerhouse?

The Truth Ring was a visible trait of Sword Masters who reached the Truth level—their martial qi could tear space ahead of their movements, creating wave-like ripples visible as half-rings of light.

"Oh? He broke through?" Nagris exclaimed.

"Beetroot stimulation," Du Luo Ken shook his head.

"Still a breakthrough—he never reached Truth level when he ate beetroot before," Nagris said.

Under the beetroot's push, Lu Se broke through to Truth level, cleaving Ulas down with one strike; exhausted, he jogged back: "Can't… can't anymore—dead tired, muscles almost gave out."

He plopped down, pulled out a vial of essence, and drank it down.

Misha's eyes widened—she knew that vial well: concentrated Holy Essence, originally 1500 mana crystals, now sold for 1800.

She had one too—she considered herself rich, and usually only dabbed a drop on her face. This guy was drinking it straight?

Looking at her own mana potion, she suddenly found it tasteless.

The Arcane Dragon Mage was stunned too—there were Arcane users here, and now a Truth Sword?

But seeing Lu Se's condition, he realized this power was forcibly boosted and unsustainable.

"Good, good—would've been a headache. All of you, attack. No more games."

He now regretted it—he should've attacked together from the start. Playing around, he'd lost a High Rank Dragon Chiang Sword Saint.

Though he said "all of you," only two Dragon Chiangs stepped forward; the last remained in place, guarding the Arcane Dragon Mage.

Scales flaring, the two Dragon Chiang Sword Saints charged forward.

Du Luo Ken said: "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll show you a magic trick."

As he spoke, he rolled up his cloak; the cloak rapidly contracted inward, then Du Luo Ken and the cloak vanished together.

When he reappeared, a puff of smoke rose to the left of the two Dragon Chiang Sword Saints' charge path; before the smoke faded, Du Luo Ken had already flung a light seal—Alchemical·Permanence—directly onto the left Dragon Chiang Sword Saint.

The Dragon Chiang Sword Saint froze rigid, struggling violently.

Du Luo Ken emerged from the smoke, smiling slightly: "Dragon Chiang transformation? I love transformation powers. Fine—I'll give you one too—"

As he spoke, he raised his Gilded Rod and tapped the immobilized Dragon Chiang—suddenly, smoke burst forth; the Dragon Chiang Sword Saint vanished, replaced by a green-skinned frog.

While everyone was stunned, Du Luo Ken sprinted forward and kicked out with his foot.

The green frog flew far away, arcing toward the marsh beyond town; mid-flight, the transformation faded—he reverted to human form, but bones shattered, muscles torn, barely alive.

Everyone stood frozen, stunned by Du Luo Ken's bizarre method—only when he bowed and slowly retreated, vanishing into his rolling cloak, did they recover.

"Ku Ba Da! Alchemical·Permanence I can accept—but how can you turn him into a frog? Do you know how many variables are involved? How did you do it? You're not a god!" Nagris yanked Du Luo Ken's collar, roaring.

Alchemical·Permanence freezing a High Rank Sword Saint was already incredible—but understandable, since Du Luo Ken was the owner of one of the Four Deputy Halls, ranked even slightly higher than Luo Ke.

Earlier, after his rebirth, his soul had been unstable, making him seem weak—but after so long recovering, his power had returned about halfway; freezing a High Rank Sword Saint wasn't hard.

But turning him into a frog? Absurd! That involved elemental transmutation, requiring immense energy—he wasn't Ange, with divine power at his disposal—how could he possibly do it so easily? Did he think this was a magic trick?

Du Luo Ken leaned close, whispering: "I just used his own Dragon Chiang transformation power, gave him a little nudge—it's essentially his own energy turning him into a frog. Far easier than forcing it with someone else's power."

Nagris was speechless with shock—though Du Luo Ken made it sound simple, it surely involved countless techniques and variables, nothing like his casual words implied.

But what did it matter? Regardless of the tricks, the result was clear: he had done the impossible—turned a High Rank Sword Saint into a frog with magic.

Yet clearly, this wasn't easy—he stopped after one, leaving the other Dragon Chiang Sword Saint standing there, bewildered.

Using abilities beyond normal comprehension easily terrified others.

Seeing the opponent frozen, the little zombie stepped forward and unleashed his ultimate!

The Deathly Shockwave slammed into the Dragon Chiang Sword Saint—the black light vanished, yet he didn't die; he clutched imaginary martial qi blades before him, barely blocking the shockwave, his body smoking.

The Arcane Dragon Mage's eyes now showed terror—among these unassuming figures, any one could be this powerful! He'd thought only one Arcane Mage stood opposite—he was the one best suited to counter mages.

If this continued, they'd lose.

The Arcane Dragon Mage slammed his staff on the ground—CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! space fissures opened before him, and flea monsters burst forth.

The emerging flea monsters leapt instantly, slamming into the wounded Dragon Chiang Sword Saint, their front limbs stabbing forward.

The wounded Dragon Chiang Sword Saint mustered his last strength, slashing through the first flea monster's body, then sidestepping to sever the second's head—but the third flea monster pounced, pinning him down, sharp limbs piercing his body.

The Dragon Chiang Sword Saint roared, unleashing a burst of martial qi, blasting the flea monsters off—but his injuries slowed him; soon, more flea monsters swarmed and tore into him.

Subsequent flea monsters immediately pounced on the corpses of their fallen kin—only when no bodies remained did they turn their attention to Ange and the others.

Nagris quickly analyzed: "No distinction between friend or foe—not even their own dead spared. Primary instinct: feeding. These creatures aren't for combat, nor reproduction—they devour their own young. These aren't insects—what the hell are they?"

Misha turned, blinking in confusion: Just talking? No one's acting? Has the Bronze Dragon even moved? Is it his turn now?

All of them are powerhouses—hanging out with them, the Bronze Dragon surely isn't as weak as he looks. Why isn't he acting?

Should I act? No—too weak, too embarrassing, don't want to show off.

As Misha wrestled internally, Ange's cannon roared—a compressed explosive fireball hissed through the air, as if squeezed out under pressure.

This greatly increased the fireball's speed and intensified its explosion upon impact—flea monsters were thrown back, swallowed by the blasts, none able to cross Ange's firepower line.

The cat perched atop Lightning's door suddenly stood, leaping silently and gracefully to the ground.