School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 115 --Owen vs Spectral Shadow Fiend

Phyllis’ red lips parted slightly, her eyes dancing with light, her pupils reflecting only the image of Owen, the dragon.

"Has the Heart of the Ocean really fallen into Owen’s hands?"

As a genius of the merfolk, rivalling Stanbeck, she naturally had a deeper understanding of the Heart of the Ocean.

Known as the most powerful supporting semi-divine artifact, the Heart of the Ocean even had some abilities that could rival those of divine artifacts.

For instance, it could regenerate severed limbs, increase spellcasting speed, and ensure a ceaseless flow of arcanergy within the body.

Normally, it might take a day for someone to recover their arcanergy, but under the Heart of the Ocean’s aid, it would only take a few breaths.

The marvels of the Heart of the Ocean were too numerous to fully describe.

Each divine artifact was unique in its function, impossible to fully comprehend in such a brief span of time.

"The Heart of the Ocean of the sea race has fallen into the hands of dragons," Phyllis mused with a touch of sadness.

"When will it return to our people?" The plight of the sea race, it seemed, was tragic.

The Heart of the Ocean, emerging from the sea, had barely spent a few years with the sea race – perhaps this was the arrangement of fate.

Owen’s realm soared all the way to the pinnacle of the master-tier, just a step away from breaking through to the grandmaster, before finally coming to a halt.

The water monkey was also consolidating its rapidly increased realm and had not yet made a move against Owen.

"Is it over?" it asked, looking at Owen.

Owen’s pupils suddenly contracted.

"You speak the common language of all races?"

"What’s so strange about that?" the water monkey replied, its mouth moving in sync with the words, though no sound seemed to be emanating directly from it.

"This Statue of Loka is an abyssal anchor point for transportation, our conduit to understand the mainland. It’s only because Hope, that bastard, had a late awakening and sealed Loka that we have not emerged until now."

The black protodragon’s normally dark scales turned an even deeper shade of blue, a clear sign of its agitation.

Anyone would react similarly to being insulted.

"In fact, I should thank Hope," the water monkey said with a sinister smile, eyeing the black protodragon.

The black protodragon’s emotional fluctuation was fleeting.

"You should be thankful to me, as I am your ancestor."

The water monkey narrowed its eyes.

"Still as sharp-tongued as ever. But instead of trading barbs, why don’t you come and fight me?"

The black protodragon was not provoked by the water monkey’s taunts.

"He is your opponent," he said, gesturing towards Owen and stepping aside, leaving Owen and the water monkey in a standoff.

"Hmm, he’s too weak. But there’s a scent on him, a residue of our mixed breed. It seems he’s had the fortune to encounter one of our mixed offspring."

Owen immediately thought of the tentacled creature at the Grand Magus Academy.

Principal Kendo had told him that the creature had become an abyssal creature after practicing the ’Soul Ascension to Divinity’ forbidden technique and being invaded by something sinister.

It seemed that the ’Soul Ascension to Divinity’ technique was inextricably linked to the abyss.

"Come on, water monkey," Owen urged, feeling the surge of arcanergy within his body, his fighting spirit at its peak.

"Water monkey?" The creature narrowed its eyes, a muffled laugh emanating from its throat.

"You have quite the nerve. Do you think being a Gold Divine Dragon makes you my bane? Remember my name, I am the great Spectral Shadow Fiend!"

With a sudden burst, the Spectral Shadow Fiend closed the distance to Owen in a flash.

Its long, slender hand reached out swiftly towards Owen.

Owen hastily mobilized his arcanergy to block the attack.

However, the black mist swirling around the Fiend’s arm shot out like sword beams, extending four claws that grasped Owen.

Owen felt the impact, golden dragon scales appearing at the point of contact.

But they were useless against the Fiend’s claw.

The scales were torn off, and Owen’s wound oozed golden blood profusely.

Holding a palm-sized dragon scale, the Spectral Shadow Fiend extended its crimson tongue, licking the scale.

Its eyes, a fierce red, widened maniacally, and it let out a crazed laugh.

"This is it – the wildness of dragons, the fresh scent of grass, and most importantly, the power closest to the origin. If I devour you, I’m certain I can break through to become a saint."

Owen looked at his wound.

The visible flesh was not the biggest concern.

The wound was enshrouded in a mist, similar in origin to the Spectral Shadow Fiend.

This mist, like little snakes, coiled around the wound, constantly devouring arcanergy and sucking blood.

It not only prevented Owen from healing but also drained his strength because of the wound.

"How am I supposed to fight this?" Owen’s heart thumped wildly, like a drum in his chest.

The black protodragon wore a troubled expression, thinking to itself, "You must hold on. You’ve used the Dragon Blood Tracing Technique; your clan’s elders should arrive soon, and then you’ll be saved."

The Spectral Shadow Fiend, with its fangs glinting coldly, lunged at Owen again.

Owen could only manage a bare defense.

Being a grandmaster, the Fiend’s attacks always seemed to be a second faster than Owen’s defenses.

Losing the initiative in this battle, Owen’s body kept accumulating wounds, his scales peeling off piece by piece.

Before long, Owen was covered in blood, most of his scales stripped away.

The ghastly state of his injuries was difficult for all present to witness.

Phyllis frowned, questioning, "What’s going on? Why is Owen engaged in such a desperate struggle with the Demon?"

They were several miles from the center of the battle and couldn’t grasp the specifics of what was happening, but the scene of combat was clear.

One of the masters of the sea races whispered, "Maybe the black protodragon struck a deal with Owen, handing over the Heart of the Ocean to him in exchange for resisting the Demon."

"Hmph, even with the Heart of the Ocean, Owen performs like this. It would have been better if I had it; I might have done a better job," another muttered.

"You? You’d be slapped to death with a single blow."

"How can you speak like that? Isn’t Owen just relying on the Heart of the Ocean’s healing abilities to tangle with the Demon? I could do the same."

Phyllis, watching the sea folks argue, scolded them in a low voice, "Regardless, Owen is fighting the Demon. It’s not your place to gossip behind his back. Shut up."

The masters of the sea races fell silent.

Still, a voice reached Phyllis’s ears, "It doesn’t look like Owen can hold on much longer. We need to think about a way out."

Phyllis pursed her lips, her mind racing with thoughts.

Finn and the others clenched their fists in tension.

Their taut expressions made it seem as if they were the ones dueling the Spectral Shadow Fiend on the battlefield.

"What do we do now? Mr. Owen seems to be at a disadvantage," one of them said.

"Isn’t that obvious? That abyssal creature is a grandmaster-tier. Mr. Owen managing a few exchanges with it, aided by the Heart of the Ocean, is already an extraordinary feat," another retorted.

"Why not seek assistance from the kingdom?" Berkeley suggested, looking at Finn with a somber expression.

Finn’s fists creaked under pressure: "The best I can summon is a grandmaster. What use would another grandmaster be here? They would only add to the chaos."

"We can’t just sit here and wait for doom," Berkeley replied, frowning.

He felt as if the grip of death was gradually tightening around them.

They were almost suffocating.

Finn pulled out a scroll from his space ring: "If Mr. Owen fails, we’ll use this teleportation scroll to escape."

Morton glanced at the scroll, his pupils constricting.

The appearance of the teleportation scroll was exquisite, its edges carefully trimmed and gilded, shimmering with a faint golden light.

It was enveloped in a rich spatial fluctuation, distorting the space around it just by being there.

It was the work of Raymond, a grandmaster with space-based Mystic Technique.

This realization brought a sense of relief to Morton.

...

Owen’s heart was heavy with despair, facing a completely one-sided slaughter.

He felt like a child against a professional combat fighter in the form of the Spectral Shadow Fiend.

Each of his attacks was effortlessly dodged, while the Fiend’s strikes consistently landed on Owen a step ahead.

His scales were nearly all torn off, even the ones on his face, revealing flesh that glowed golden-red with blood.

Blood flowed all over his body, blinding his eyes.

The Spectral Shadow Fiend seemed to relish in this carnage, its laughter echoing miles away.

Its body, already dark, was now drenched in blood, becoming even more profound in appearance.

The Heart of the Ocean, true to its reputation as a semi-divine artifact, was keeping Owen alive despite his severe injuries.

It emitted a life force so potent that Owen began to heal rapidly.

Even the scales initially torn off by the Fiend were starting to regrow.

Owen realized that the Spectral Shadow Fiend hadn’t fully mastered the secrets of the grandmaster-tier.

It couldn’t finish him off.

"Fine, you like tearing off my scales? Then I’ll let you tear enough!" Owen, his face covered in blood, grinned fiercely.

His body radiated golden light, pushing the Spectral Shadow Fiend away.

As the golden light faded, Owen had transformed into a Gold Divine Dragon.

The Spectral Shadow Fiend licked its lips, its throat moving rapidly with intense thirst: "A Gold Divine Dragon of nearly three generations—have I really hit the jackpot?"

With these words, it lunged at Owen, no longer content with merely maiming him.

It aimed to directly feast on Owen’s blood!