Chapter 128: My Young Dragons Have Grown

The roar of dragons echoed through the dim skies of the abyssal training ground, as one after another, dragons appeared amidst densely packed teleportation circles—red dragons, blue dragons, green dragons, black dragons, and white dragons. Hundreds of multicolored dragons spread their wings in the air, their powerful and ferocious forms causing many low-tier demons to tremble uncontrollably.

Roar! Roar! Roar! Accompanied by the dragons' roars, a barrage of attacks—flames, storms, lightning, acid, and ice—formed and rained down like a torrential downpour.

Entire swathes of demons were struck by a rain of fireballs from the sky, exploding into chunks with black smoke billowing around them.

A pale white lightning storm descended from the sky, countless bolts of lightning slithered through the clustered demons, devouring the lives of one "innocent" and "weak" demon after another.

Acid rain in shades of green fell evenly among the demon hordes. The more powerful demons ignored the acid rain, unaffected by it. However, mid-tier demons could not ignore it, as many were corroded into pits, screaming in agony, though it was not lethal to them, just extremely painful.

The low-tier demons had no chance even to scream; many were dissolved into pus as soon as the acid rain touched them, with only the luckier ones leaving behind some bone fragments.

The chilling winds and biting frost froze many demons into ice blocks, which were then shattered by other magical attacks, scattering into pieces without a trace of blood...

As the demon horde led by the Balrog was bombarded by the spells unleashed by the group of multicolored dragons, nearly all low-tier demons were decimated, and many mid-tier demons were severely wounded. Only the gold-tier demons remained unharmed. The spells cast by the dragons could hurt gold-tier demons but posed no fatal threat to them.

"How are there so many dragons?" The fierce Balrog looked up at the dragons flying overhead, somewhat dazed, then sneered, "But what's the use of numbers? There isn't even a single adult dragon among them; they're all just a bunch of adolescent dragons."

The Balrog, not the sharpest tool in the shed, didn't ponder the implausibility of the situation—five types of evil dragons all gathered together, each demonstrating exceptionally proficient spellcasting and coordination.

Although the waves of attacks seemed chaotic, they were actually well-organized. Spells of earth, wind, water, and fire were all deployed without any mishaps due to conflicting magics in mid-air.

The spells perfectly hit the demon hordes, a testament to the dragons' racial instincts, which if known to the outside world, would shatter many scholars' understanding of dragonkind.

Unfortunately, this bloodthirsty upper-tier demon wasn't one to ponder such matters. It didn't consider how special the appearance of this dragon horde was; it only noticed that these multicolored dragons had attacked its charging demon legion.

Thus, the Balrog swung its flame-whip burning with abyssal flames towards a black dragon about a kilometer away. "Whoosh!" The sound of the air exploding echoed, and though the hundred-meter-long flame whip reached its limit, it miraculously extended further. This terrifying force split the thin atmosphere of the training ground like a sea, creating a visible white mist.

A dazzling bright light shone under the claws of the black dragon, and then a portal shimmering with a faint glow appeared beneath it. Seeing the approaching flame whip, the black dragon quickly dived into the portal, reappearing thousands of meters away. Its bone-armored dragon head showed no expression, but its panicky eyes revealed its terror.

Looking down at the position it had just occupied, a deep chasm extended all the way to the Balrog's feet, the result of the demon's mighty whip.

"Indeed, listening to Muria was the right choice," the black dragon thought, its claws tingling at the thought of what would have happened if the whip had hit it. Shaking its head, it dared not ponder further.

"Thankfully, as Muria instructed, I've practiced the portal spell to instantaneous effect; otherwise, I'd have been finished just now."

As the black dragon sighed in relief from narrowly escaping death thanks to Muria's guidance, the Balrog stared dumbfounded at the trench it had created, doubting its reality. As a peak soul-intent great demon, it had let a gold-tier juvenile dragon escape without even scratching it.

"Mage dragon!" Only now did the thick-headed great demon realize how the black dragon had escaped its attack. Realizing this, the upper-tier demon doubted its eyes even more, "A spellcasting juvenile black dragon? Am I under some illusion?"

If it were metallic dragons, encountering a spellcasting juvenile dragon would be normal, but for the chromatic dragons, known for their laziness, only ancient dragons typically delved into magic.

A spellcasting juvenile black dragon made the Balrog furrow its brows in thought. After recalling all its memories and experiences, it found no similar instance. This seemed to be the first juvenile black dragon it had encountered that could cast spells.

After pondering for several seconds, the Balrog roared out of frustration, giving up on trying to understand—a task too complex for its muddled mind. It decided to vent its anger through the blood of the other dragons.

"Roar!" The Balrog swung its executioner's sword and simultaneously whipped its flame-whip. The savage sword's glow streaked across the sky, and the flaming whip tore through the air. In just a few moments, it launched attacks on several differently scaled dragons.

Then, something that shattered the Balrog's worldview happened: like the previous black dragon, these fierce-looking multicolored dragons escaped using portals, and it didn't manage to injure a single one.

"Am I cursed by those mixed-breeds from Hell?" Watching this, the Balrog began to doubt itself, feeling something was amiss, "Did I mistake a group of metallic dragons for chromatic ones?"

"Boom!" Just as the Balrog was being driven to doubt by these multicolored dragons, the soul-intent Titan intervened. Holding his spear surrounded by wind and thunder, he thrust it towards the grotesque and ugly Balrog, seemingly intending to skewer it completely.

As for the dragons in the sky, the soul-intent Titan ignored them. Seeing so many multicolored dragons, he knew Muria must be in the abyssal training ground, as these dragons had become a unique signature of hers.

After all, among the Titan race, apart from Muria, no other Titan raised dragons, especially a group capable of magic.

Time began to jump forward...