Extraordinary Voyage-Chapter 666 - 577: Dragon’s Might! Kill Them All!

In the early hours before dawn, the shadowy sun of Mit had yet to rise.

The Nether River, crystal clear like the air, which stretched across the entire "Forgotten Desert," was shrouded in a thin layer of mist.

Suddenly.

The sound of oars slicing through water...

Accompanied by the rhythmic sound of rowing, three black wooden boats, each with a lantern hanging from its prow, pierced through the dim mist. Guided by the strange lavender light, they slowly approached the right bank of the Nether River.

Each of the black boats carried twelve fully armed, towering Dragon-man Warriors. They were not only clad in full armor, but the weapons in their hands faintly glimmered with a thick Extraordinary Spiritual Light.

In stark contrast to the ordinary Dragon-men living in the Great Oasis, even including the two Tier 3 leaders they had, there was a fundamental difference.

Evidently.

The Sea Emperor Dragon-man Andreas, when facing Aiven, ultimately played a little trick. Although he didn't lie, he didn't fully disclose all the key information either.

In fact, a morning mist would rise on the Nether River every dawn, not even reaching the next day's daylight, and this hunting party had already fought their way here, relying on their own bloodline authority.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!...

Under the command of each commander, the tall silhouettes shot forward, landing on the shore.

Though their formation seemed chaotic and without order, the grand momentum emanating from them was like blazing steel furnaces. Coupled with the thick scent of blood that was impossible to ignore, it was clear this was a battle-hardened troop recently withdrawn from the battlefield.

However, ordinary Dragon-men, though strong, were merely auxiliary troopers compared to the nine Tier 3 Dragon-men standing at the forefront.

Furthermore, each of the three leading figures had reached Tier 3 senior level, just a step away from the racial limit of Dragon-men. Their powerful strength allowed them to maintain the highly exhausting yet forceful Dragon-man form indefinitely.

They were:

Cosmic Dragon-man Kryptonipus, with no horns on his head, possessing fully transparent scales that even rendered his body semi-transparent. Two cold, curved blades hung at his waist, exuding a cold temperament, much like the ancient, eternal waters of the Nether River.

Night Dragon Dragon-man Farazul, tall yet skeletal, resembling an aging Black Dragon.

With each breath, his mouth exhaled a vile gas, his body engulfed in a dense Death Aura, holding a weapon that looked both like a scepter and a scythe, blurring the line between warlock and warrior.

War Dragon Dragon-man Kariex, draped in iron-hard scale armor, akin to a heavily armored tank, representing the pure power and destructiveness of dragon kind, wielding a heavy chain mace.

The hexagonal steel column, as thick as a human thigh, connected three meteor hammers the size of human heads, each detail screaming of brutality!

Simply standing there, he radiated a chaotic, insane bloodthirsty aura, causing even the Dragon-men Warriors who accompanied him to instinctively keep their distance.

"Hehe, for mighty Dragon-men to be robbed of the gods' sacrifice by mere mortals, those stationed in the territory of the Death God have truly degenerated!"

Raising his head to look at the Great Oasis not far from the Nether River, Night Dragon Dragon-man Farazul laughed, but the cold gleam in his pitch-black eyes was unmistakable.

For most normal beings, the "Netherworld" was ultimately a forbidden zone. Apart from the Dragon-men clan affiliated with the Jet Black Dragon, almost no powerful human living beings ventured here, even the managers appointed by the Death Gods in their respective territories would yield to them to some extent.

Mortals, whether dead or alive, were the most humble members of the Netherworld.

Based on this, most Dragon-men looked down on the weak humans and loathed the part of their bloodline that was human, maintaining their Dragon-man form whenever possible.

The only adversaries they deemed worthy were the terrifying Demons thriving endlessly within the boundless nether lands.

Adhering to divine oracles, the group formed a team and descended from the Netherworld with a few of them exhibiting an overconfident demeanor, as if big players entering a beginner's village unimpressed by everyone around.

"Enough with the chatter, let's capture them and hurry back. Combat is the Dragon's life. Were it not for the Main God's orders, I wouldn't even want to leave the battlefield in the Netherworld for a second!"

Like a heavily armored tank, War Dragon Dragon-man Kariex swung his steel chain mace that gleamed with Spiritual Light, the fierce wind it stirred levelling a layer of gravel on the shore.

No one perceived the mission to pose any difficulty for them.

Though the most inconspicuous, it was the Cosmic Dragon-man Kryptonipus, vaguely the leader of the hunting party, who remained silent but suddenly looked up.

Ziiiii——

The curved blades at his waist were unsheathed like lightning, a flash of white light.

A Spiritualized Seagull, from at least a hundred feet high, was sliced down, falling to the ground lifeless.

"Ho, interesting..."

At this moment, all the Tier 3 Dragon-men in the team simultaneously lifted their heads, looking toward the depths of the "Forgotten Desert."

"That is... the aura of a Sacrificial Mark, very close, not planning to hide? Or are you deliberately provoking us?

No matter your intentions, it's of no consequence to me. I will show you that in the face of absolute power, all schemes and stratagems are utterly useless!"

Rumble——

The most hot-tempered War Dragon Dragon-man Kariex unfurled his Steel Dragon Wings, the piercing sonic boom tearing through the air as he led the charge.

Behind him, the nine Tier 3 Dragon-men capable of flying left behind a troupe of Tier 2 ordinary Dragon-men, soaring into the sky in pursuit.