From Blood Mage to Styx Ancestor

Chapter 54 Mormontis's Malice

Elena believes this has been the most difficult month she has ever endured.

She underestimated Mordi's abilities and was easily crushed by him.

If that were all, she would have been fine. She admitted that she had misjudged him and failed to notice that this man, who looked more like a warrior, actually had the heart of a mage.

But she couldn't understand why a brainless skeletal dragon could learn so quickly.

"Of course it's because of me. Our soul contract allowed it to quickly master the skills I possess."

Looking at Elena lying on the dragon's back, seemingly utterly despondent, Mordy offered an explanation.

Upon hearing this, Elena did a somersault, her eyes regaining their sparkle, and shouted, "You're cheating!"

"Compared to us, your talent for absorbing dragon souls is more like cheating."

Modi gently patted away her hand that was on his shoulder and softly uttered in the Dragon Language.

"*Dragon Language [Imbalance and Expulsion]*"

Nothing happened.

Instead, the bone dragon beneath him roared, its roar carrying a repulsive force that pushed everything away, and slammed heavily against the wall.

"I don't have a dragon soul. Even if I learn dragon language, I won't be able to use dragon roars without practicing for ten or twenty years."

But Mortisia doesn't have a dragon soul either, so why can it use it?

Mortisia's soul fire flickered, indicating that it knew nothing.

It was, after all, just a skeletal dragon that was only a month old.

"Perhaps, because it is a dragon, and you are not?" Elena guessed.

"I can be too."

As soon as he finished speaking, ice-blue scales grew on his body, and his head, torso, and limbs began to transform into dragons. A dragon tail even grew from his back.

This is not the appearance of a blood dragon manifested by the Seed of the Mind, but a change caused by the activation of the Ice Dragon bloodline.

"*Dragon Language [Whirlwind Form]*"

The roar was loud enough, but it was still of little use.

Mortisia instinctively yelled along with him and crashed headfirst into the wall.

After a while, it pulled its head out and took two unsteady steps.

Modi stared at it silently, about to revert to human form, when a strange premonition welled up in his heart.

A strange sound echoed in his ears, sounding like babbling or a group of people chanting incantations.

"An echo from another world? How did it arrive so quickly?"

In just a month and a half, the Ancient Blood has already vaguely located another world; that's incredibly efficient.

But this is also a good thing, as he can't wait to go to his world to spread the Mohist ideology and sow love and peace.

As he was pondering what preparations he should make, he suddenly stiffened, feeling a strange sensation behind him.

Turning around, he saw Elena holding the tip of his dragon tail, her slender hands caressing the scales on his tail, the cold, smooth touch seemingly enjoying her.

Looking up, she saw Mo Di's face, as black as the bottom of a pot, and tentatively asked, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"What do you think?" He said expressionlessly, as if he was enduring something, and with a forceful pull, he drew out the dragon's tail.

"Could it be an erogenous zone? I think it was mentioned in 'Argonian Maids' that the tip of an Argonian's tail is very sensitive."

She murmured, and Modi almost couldn't resist flicking her tail.

In less than half a second, he exited his dragon form, and the activated dragon scales on his body adapted to his changed body shape, while also patching up the hole that had been stretched out by the dragon tail.

The dragon frost forging technique, originating from Niflheim, helped him create this magical dragon scale armor.

The materials are dragon scales, dragon skin, frost steel found in the Dragon Worship Cult's treasury, and dragon bones obtained through the [Bone Hyperplasia Technique].

This dragon scale armor can not only adapt to changes in body size and repair itself, but also has functions such as mimicry, constant low temperature, enhanced spellcasting, and constant cleansing.

With this, Mordy no longer needs to worry about his clothes tearing off after transforming.

Similarly, Elena also has one, which she imitates as a nun's habit, which, according to her, was inspired by a nun named Friede.

Modi didn't comment on her cosplay behavior, since mimicry doesn't affect defense anyway.

Occasionally, when he is alone, he will try this behavior to amuse himself.

For example, getting something like the Lich King's armor.

"...Elena, Mortisia," Mordy suddenly spoke, snapping out of his reverie, "get ready, we have guests."

Elena, who had a perfect understanding with him, knew without his explanation that the visitor was up to no good.

She retrieved her weapon from the rack and stood beside him, waiting for the unwelcome guest to arrive.

Mortisia raised her head, her soul fire flickering with malice.

It spoke in dragon language, transformed into spiritual fire and disappeared, then lay dormant somewhere in the sacred realm, patiently waiting.

Modi, carrying the reforged greatsword, stared directly at the entrance to the Holy Land. His Soul Eye pierced through the many obstacles, casting its gaze upon the entrance to the Frost Tomb.

A group of scantily clad dark elves and followers of the Dragon Cult formed an alliance and sneaked into the Frost Tomb of Frost.

"Rodrig, you better pray that this place contains the ancient treasure you mentioned, or you can forget about getting any help from the Shadowblade family."

In the middle of the group, a beautiful female dark elf with a mature aura spoke a threat.

When she looked at the stout Rodrigo, she made no attempt to hide the disgust in her eyes.

Her attire was unusually revealing, so much so that it contrasted sharply with the surrounding Balong followers.

It's like one side has a three-dimensional art style and the other has an X-anime art style.

"Oh, of course, my dear Isela, when have I ever lied to you?" Rodrigo wasn't angry; instead, he had a smiling expression.

He used the news of the Ancient Treasure Vault of the Dragon Cult to lure the Dark Elf Shadowblade Clan there.

In reality, he didn't know if there was an ancient treasure vault here; he only knew that the blasphemers had hidden the sacred remains here.

Luring the dark elves here is merely to use their power to explore the way and fight against the blasphemers.

Even if there were a treasure vault, he wouldn't care. How could this thing compare to the Holy Remains? It's probably only worth a lord's treasure vault at most.

He kept glancing at the enormous human heart of the dark elf, a gesture that was noticed by the dark elf girl behind him.

"You fat pig, if you dare to look around again, I'll gouge your eyes out and feed them to the Shadowhounds."

"Looking around? I wasn't looking around." Rodrigo denied it, his gaze sweeping over the sharp-tongued girl's thin figure as he sneered:

"Instead of this, you should worry about how to grow up, you poor little thing."

This dark elf girl, Velana, was different from Ysera, who was the eldest sister. She was just the youngest sister of the Shadowblade family and didn't have much say, so he didn't care about her.

"You...!" Verana said angrily, but was interrupted by her elder sister.

"Alright, Verana, if you don't want to see your poor lips cut off and fed to the Shadowhounds, you'd better shut them now."

Isela's words completely lacked the attitude one should have towards family.

The Dark Elf Shadowblade family values ​​class more than kinship.

In Ysera's view, no matter how hateful the Bishop of the Church of the Dragons was, he was still someone of the same class as her, and it was not up to a mere younger sister to point fingers at him.

They were on a mission right now, otherwise she would have already punished the overstepping Verana.

The group continued forward, but Karen, the old sorcerer of the Dragon Cult who was walking in front, suddenly stopped and issued a warning:

"There is a magic trap ahead."

"Then tear it down," Rodrigo said coldly.

Karen and another dark elf mage stepped forward and began to examine the magical trap closely.

He spoke shortly afterward: "Done..."

Before he could finish speaking, a cloud of ice mist exploded beside him, instantly blasting the dark elf mage into a pile of ice shards.

"Oh no, there's a hidden trap!" Karen quickly changed her mind, cold sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Useless!" Ysera's lazy expression turned gloomy, and she was about to slice him off with her sword.

"Wait," Rodrigo raised his gilded candlestick to stop her. "We didn't bring many people with us. If you kill him, our team will be one less mage."

He is also a mage of the transcendent level.

Although the frequency of appearances of superhumans has increased significantly since the outbreak of the Dragon Disaster, this does not mean that they have lost their value.

Karen was trembling with fear, thanking them for sparing her life while praising her bishop.

They set off again, encountering numerous magical traps along the way, and it took them a great deal of time and effort to get through the passage.

Upon arriving at the tomb, they were immediately confronted by a group of White Walkers.

After barely managing to deal with them, they came to a large door. Just as they were about to open it, they discovered that the door was locked and could not be opened from this side.

Ysera, who had already suffered enough, suddenly snapped and drew her sword, tearing the door down.

But they discovered that behind the door was an ice wall that could not be demolished no matter what.

"This is Dragon Ice; we have no way to destroy it."

Rodrigo's face was grim.

"Who designed this disgusting grave? If I ever find it, I'll chop them up and feed them to the dogs!" Ysera screamed in frustration.

Left with no other option, they had to take a detour and enter a wide passage.

There were no White Walkers or magical traps on either side; it was unusually quiet.

"Be careful, this passage isn't right..."

Before he could finish speaking, everyone saw a chariot speeding towards them.

"It's a dragon-headed chariot! Everyone, retreat!"

Rodrigo yelled and, displaying a speed beyond his obese frame, lunged toward one side of the passage.

As the tanks passed by, several unfortunate men were instantly crushed into mincemeat.

The survivors ran frantically away from the passage, finally escaping this terrifying creation that spewed dragon frost.

"Rodrig, you fat pig!" Leaning against the wall, Isera cursed, "Why didn't you stop it just now and give me the chance to tear it down?!"

"The Dragon Head Chariot is not so easy to stop, and it is made of Frost Steel, which has extremely high resistance to magic. You can't possibly dismantle it."

After catching his breath and regaining his composure, Rodrigo waved his hand.

"Besides, this should be the final hurdle. Look over there, that should be the entrance to the Holy Land."

Ysera looked in the direction he pointed and indeed saw a spacious area behind the door, but it was pitch black inside.

It felt as if some kind of darkness was swallowing up my vision.

Even as a dark elf with innate dark vision, she couldn't see what was inside.