Dracotitán

"Scram!" Muria glanced at the three Soul Intent level werewolves, "Considering you didn't abandon this dragon, I'll spare your lives."

The three Soul Intent level werewolves were silent, offering no response, and their bodies didn't move an inch, showing no intention of retreating.

Below, one werewolf continued to reach out its claw towards the Demon-Swaying Sword, but the sword, being sentient, trembled lightly on its own. The thunder and flames bursting from it grew more intense, causing the werewolf's already skeletal claw to start cracking. It wouldn't allow anyone other than Muria to hold its hilt, not even the slightest bit.

"It seems, I still need to teach you a lesson," Muria sighed lightly, his body shimmering with spiritual light. His massive dragon form quickly shrank and transformed into a human teenage boy with black hair and golden eyes, about 1.5 meters tall.

"However, I won't bully you!" In his human form, Muria reached out his hand, and a great halberd wrapped in wind and thunder, burning with golden dragon flames, with a black shaft and a gilded blade, appeared in his hand. This was the first exclusive weapon Muria forged – the Prison-Suppressing Battle Halberd.

"Just withstand one strike from me."

"If we withstand your attack, will you let us take away the Red Dragon, Othrales?" One of the Soul Intent werewolves, full of wariness, looked at the battle halberd in Muria's hand and asked in a deep voice.

"Yes, provided you can survive," Muria smiled, and then, his comparatively small figure instantly vanished from the spot.

Next, Muria's figure appeared above one of the alert Soul Intent werewolves, halberd in hand, and he cleaved downward without any obstruction, cutting the werewolf's arm, adorned with arm armor, like a hot knife through butter.

Following that, the crescent-shaped blade of the halberd entered from the right shoulder of the werewolf, slashing diagonally out from the left abdomen. Black and red corrupted blood spilled across the sky, and the werewolf's body was cleaved into two by Muria's halberd, falling from the air.

"Too weak." Muria disappeared once again, and then, two screams followed in succession. The three Soul Intent level werewolves, unable to resist, never touching Muria, were chopped down, lying on the ground wailing, barely clinging to life.

Even in his human form, Muria's physique was still superior to these werewolves. Coupled with the Prison-Suppressing Battle Halberd, forged from mythical metal with an almost indestructible edge, these three werewolves couldn't withstand a single strike from Muria.

"Go lie down over there." Muria rushed to the back of the Red Dragon, Othrales, and kicked the werewolf whose claws were nearly blasted apart by thunder and fire in the jaw. With a harsh sound of bone cracking, he kicked it into the air.

Before it could react, Muria swung the Prison-Suppressing Battle Halberd, bisecting it at the chest, along with both of its claws.

A scream filled with agony rose, leaving only the werewolf's intact head and half of its chest on the ground, gasping heavily. At its horrific wound, flesh wriggled, attempting to regrow.

However, every bit of growth was destroyed by the golden thunder and dragon flames attached to the wound, the residual power left by Muria's attack, preventing and even exacerbating the opponents' injuries.

The other three werewolves were the same, with thunder and fire entwined around their wounds inflicted by Muria, preventing their injuries from healing.

For creatures at the Soul Intent level, even being quartered wouldn't matter much, as long as they could reattach their limbs, they could regrow and recover.

But in the case of these four werewolves, with Muria's residual power, they shouldn't harbor any naive thoughts of reattaching limbs to heal.

"The result of overestimating oneself!" Muria looked indifferently at the four werewolves below, then, amid a loud dragon roar, transformed back into his dragon form, flying towards the sky above Varianthi.

He wasn't worried that these four Soul Intent werewolves could stand up again and rescue the Red Dragon. Cut to such a state, it was a wonder if they even had half a life left, let alone whether they could withstand the erosion of his power.

It would be good if two of the four Soul Intent werewolves survived today, and even if they did, their power levels would definitely drop, effectively rendering them useless.

Because Muria, except for not aiming at their heads, had hardly held back. Previously, he had given them a chance to escape, considering their loyalty, but unfortunately, they didn't cherish it.

As part of a naturally evil race, Muria naturally couldn't talk about kindness anymore. Well, the main thing was, Muria wasn't interested in them. He already had a pack of dragon-transformed wolves.

Regarding factional opposition, such things could still be forcibly twisted and diverted through "education." Under his command, even inherently evil chromatic dragons could only obediently act as good dragons.

"Let me handle this group of green dragons, Sister Kaslana!" Muria spread his broad dragon wings, covered in feather-like scales, and flew towards the sky above Varianthi, looking at the golden dragon struggling under the siege of seven Soul Intent level green dragons.

"Are you joking?" Seeing Muria's oppressive dragon shadow flying nearby, the elder green dragon glanced at the spot where he had just fought. The red dragon, which had just been arrogantly challenging her for position, was now impaled by a huge greatsword, lying motionless on the ground, seemingly dead.

"You killed the Red Dragon, Othrales!" The elder green dragon looked at Muria in fear.

Among the dragonkind, there's an unwritten rule, or rather, an unspoken agreement. Dragons refrain from killing each other, even if they are evil or good dragons.

The victorious dragon typically deals with the defeated dragon by imprisonment, expulsion, or banishment, rarely harming their life. This is a tacit understanding among dragons.

For instance, the elder green dragon never intended to kill the golden dragon, Kaslana, though a large part of her hesitation was fear of retaliation from her clan.

But the main reason was her desire to capture Kaslana alive, then demand ransom from the golden dragon clan.

"No, she's still alive," Muria stated indifferently, his golden dragon eyes observing the golden level green dragons starting to scatter and avoid him, a hint of excitement in his eyes. So many dragons, he couldn't let them escape.

"Phew!" The elder green dragon breathed a sigh of relief, then, seeing Muria already standing in front of the golden dragon, Kaslana, she said, "Honorable golden dragon, how about we call it even this time? I'll take my kin and leave."

"Leave?" Muria turned his head to look at Kaslana, whose dragon scales were shattered in many places and was still bleeding, then turned back to stare at green dragon, "After injuring my sister to this extent, you still think of leaving?"

This confrontation marks a pivotal moment where Muria's resolve and power are tested against the elder green dragon's intentions to retreat with her kin. Muria's protective stance towards Kaslana, his unwillingness to let the aggressors go without consequence, and his dominant position in the conflict highlight his role as a powerful protector and a formidable opponent. His transformation into a dragon and his subsequent actions serve as a testament to his strength and his commitment to safeguarding those he considers family, setting the stage for further developments in this epic narrative.

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