Chapter 224

Chapter 224: The Most Direct Approach

After sitting in the Dragon’s Blood White Crystal Pool for seven days, Midi had not only completed the rare "Extraordinary Awakening" but also stabilized the previously unsettled White Crystal within him using the immense life force hidden in the dragon bones. Though his appearance remained the same, his aura had transformed completely. Every gesture now carried a natural authority, not from human power or violence, but from a trace of ancient dragon might inherited from King Bacal of the Tyrant Dragon, inspiring awe in all who faced him.

His body had grown more refined, with a lean, flowing silhouette like a mountain spring. The fierce, battle-hardened aura he once radiated now lay hidden beneath the surface. His dark eyes glinted like stars, piercing even the shadows of the chamber like lightning in the void.

When Midi closed his eyes to meditate, he sensed his newly forged blood—thick yet vibrant—circulating with magic. It shimmered with a silvery glow, mirroring the Dragon’s Blood White Crystal itself. His bones, purified by the dragon’s essence, had turned jade-like in purity and strength, flawless as frost.

At the core of this reborn body lay a golden-red small sword: the Dragon Sealing Sword, the culmination of Midi’s mastery.

Outwardly, Midi now resembled a noble of refined elegance. Inwardly, his power neared that of a pureblood ancient dragon—albeit a juvenile one. The Dragonkin’s dragon might and roars paled in comparison, appearing crude and impure before him.

Only now did Midi feel qualified to face Lord Segarth of the Light City.

Yet that was all.

Before his awakening, the Lord of the Light City could have obliterated him with a flick. Now, Midi could resist—even fight back—but victory remained distant.

Midi was still human. Even after the Dragon’s Blood baptism, enhanced by the White Crystal, he remained mortal. The Lord of the Light City, however, was a magical entity crafted by King Bacal for war.

Humans thrived on growth and potential. Given a year, Midi might ascend to new heights. But against the Tyrant Dragon’s war machine, he stood uncertain.

The stronger Midi grew, the clearer the gap between him and Segarth became. Adding the Exiles’ overwhelming numbers tilted the scales beyond his reach.

To win, he first had to eliminate the Exile army, then find a way to weaken the Lord of the Light City. But how?

Surveying the ruined Dragonkin tribe and the weary but determined warriors, Midi sighed inwardly. Their troop strength was insufficient.

Then, an idea struck him.

“Blame-shifting tactic?” Midi’s gaze sharpened as Kelvin reported the week’s events. “With Wiseman dead, can the Empire hold against an awakened Exile?”

“They’ve called in reinforcements from Faero Bay,” Kelvin replied, his tone assured. “Their tactics have shifted entirely. I suspect a new Imperial commander.”

Wiseman had favored ruthless, unconventional strategies. During the noble war in Asreks, he’d tried to kidnap Mist Sorceress Alice to cripple Midi’s forces. In the Sky City conflict, outmatched in troops and alchemy, he’d deployed Earthly Stone Bombs and Undead hordes as cannon fodder.

But the Empire’s new commander opted for steady, methodical warfare. In the Sea of Three Towers, they built layered fortifications, tapped magic veins to create anti-air firepower nets, and reorganized the Imperial army into hundred-man squads—each targeting a single Exile.

Under the three-pronged assault, even magical entities that had undergone their first awakening showed remarkable resilience against the combined firepower of fortifications, magical formations, and a hundred elite troops.

Yet the Imperial army still couldn’t defeat the Exiles. After suffering repeated losses, the Exiles began employing charging formations against Imperial forces. They first cast multiple defensive spells, then shattered and fragmented the Imperial army into isolated groups before annihilating them completely.

Still, forcing these sky-dominating Exiles to adopt organized battle formations spoke volumes about the Imperial commander’s skill. It was like commanding sheep to fight wolves – if the wolves needed to form packs to kill the sheep, didn’t that prove the sheep commander’s worth?

"But what’s the use? Could he possibly be more dangerous than the ‘Hand of Nightmare’ Wiseman? If even Wiseman fell to Lord Midi, what can this newcomer achieve?" Dickson snorted nearby.

"True. Their resistance is just delaying the inevitable. We beat the Empire once, we’ll crush them again," Kelvin nodded confidently. "With Lord Midi here – an Awakened Expert now – no schemes can touch us. His personal power alone could overwhelm them. Another blame-shifting tactic would work even better!"

"Blame-shifting? No need for complications." Midi waved dismissively. "You heard my challenge. I’ll face the Lord of the Light City in one week. No time for games."

"Then…?"

Kelvin and Dickson exchanged puzzled glances.

"Just tell me where the Imperial army camps." Midi smiled.

Minutes later, golden-red light erupted from the Dragonkin camp. After circling briefly, the glow shot across the Sea of Three Towers like a comet – heading straight for the Delos Empire’s expeditionary forces.

This radiance was Midi Asreks himself.

Or rather, his awakened Secret Technique:

"Sky Sword Dance."

When activated, power from the Dragon Sealing Sword enveloped Midi, merging man and blade. He could fly freely, attack fiercely, and evade effortlessly – a supreme skill combining flight, teleportation, offense and defense. This was his foundation for challenging Lord Segarth.

The technique also served as his ultimate show of force.

Wherever the sword light passed, faint Dragon’s might spread. The disturbance dwarfed even Exile incursions. Birds scattered, magical beasts fled, mountains trembled – mirroring Segarth’s arrival at Star Mountain. Though Midi’s aura covered less ground, its purity matched the Light City ruler’s.

Even Exiles observed cautiously rather than intercepting.

Midi tore through Imperial anti-air defenses like paper. Magic Missiles and tracking arrows became mere background scenery as he landed at the Elemental Giants’ tower base.

Beneath the towering structure stood a plain building bearing the Imperial flag – their command center.

Emerging from the glow, Midi scanned the panicking soldiers. His voice carried unnatural weight as he announced: "I’m Midi Asreks, Hawk Brigade vice-captain and Belmar envoy. The Delos commander will parley with me NOW."

Though not shouted, every word shook the Imperial ranks.

Then realization struck.

Midi Asreks?

The Empire’s nemesis who killed Wiseman? Who tore them from the Floating City? The blame-shifting schemer who deserved death a thousand times over?

How did he come here?

How DARE he come here?

How…

Imperial fury ignited, boiling into chaos.