School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 154 --Completion of Cultivation, The Great Battle Approaches
As the arcanergy within Owen continued to strengthen, he felt a transformation within his soul.
It was as if his consciousness had detached from his physical form and entered a mysterious space.
Within this realm, he beheld countless stars twinkling, each star representing a powerful form of arcanergy.
Owen’s consciousness navigated through these stars, absorbing the arcanergy they emitted.
During this process, he felt his own arcanergy intensifying, as though he had reached a new plateau of power.
Suddenly, Owen’s consciousness was pulled back to the training room.
He felt an endless surge of power coursing through his body, a force so immense it was beyond description.
Opening his eyes, he saw the room enveloped in tri-colored light, as if he had stepped into another dimension.
Owen exhaled slowly, and the tri-colored glow in the room gradually faded away.
"Not bad, this period of secluded cultivation has yielded substantial consolidation," he mused internally.
"The constant battles before left no room for reflection, making this session of cultivation particularly effective."
He had also completed the training of the Doppelganger Technique and Substitution Stratagem, adding new dimensions to his combat capabilities.
Most importantly, his integration with the Heart of the Ocean had been successful.
The Heart of the Ocean, known for its soul-stabilizing and power-enhancing effects, proved to be an immensely powerful aid in his cultivation.
Standing up, his bones crackled like popping beans.
"How long did this cultivation session take?" Owen wondered with a hint of curiosity.
As he opened the door, he was greeted by Erin’s anxious face, drawing his immediate attention.
"What’s wrong, Erin?" Owen blinked in surprise, quickly asking.
Erin grasped Owen’s arm, her form of address changing in her urgency: "Saint, the angel race has suddenly issued an Oracle Decree of Rupture against the dragons. They’ve declared a fight to the death with us dragons..."
Owen’s pupils dilated suddenly, his mind reeling from the shock.
Now, he was no newcomer to the continent; after spending so much time here, plus his extensive research in the library, he was well-versed in the continent’s affairs.
The Oracle Decree of Rupture was an ancient artifact, used back when tribes harbored irreconcilable differences.
Its activation meant that war was inevitable, leading to a relentless struggle until one side was annihilated.
The party invoking the war decree would be consumed with a berserk fervor upon sighting their enemy, fighting to the death in a blood-red haze.
Such a measure was considered the last resort among last resorts.
Why would the angel race even contemplate its use? The angel race, in its prime like a vigorous young adult, surely had no need to induce an adrenaline rush by inflicting a wound upon itself.
Why forsake peace for war? Had the angel race’s leadership lost their minds?
A flurry of thoughts raced through Owen’s mind, then settled on a single face: Roger!
The elders of the angel race were seasoned strategists, having weathered many storms on the continent.
Only a young angel, with their aggressive and unrefined plans, could conceive of such a strategy.
Generally, any angel instigating a war would be scorned by the older generation, except for Roger.
Banking on his status as a saint, he was dragging the entire angel race into the fray.
Had he actually managed to do it?
Owen felt bewildered.
Was Roger’s hatred for him so deep?
As this thought surfaced, Owen shook his head.
If it was merely for revenge, such measures were entirely unnecessary.
There must be unimaginable reasons behind Roger’s actions, possibly ones Owen couldn’t access or perhaps they were Roger’s own secrets.
Erin produced a memory stone and handed it to Owen, "Saint, this contains images of Lord Barlo with two grandmasters from our race in the angel race’s domain. Please, take a look."
Owen accepted it and infused it with arcanergy.
The memory stone emitted a glow, projecting images across the room.
The footage vividly captured Barlo’s expressions of surprise, shock, and horror.
Then, it showed Nidaam drawing his sword, a scene of him ripping through the cosmos.
The phrase "dragons will prevail" seemed to echo as Nidaam was torn apart by a formidable force, leaving an irreparable scar on the angel race’s territory with his three-hundred-year-old sword strike.
As both sides suffered, Owen’s face grew solemn.
What exactly had happened within the angel race to drive Roger to such extremes?
He felt a heavy heart; he had heard of Nidaam, even met him.
Known as the "Cold-faced Sword Demon," Nidaam was usually seen embracing his sword, slumbering in his cave.
The only time he met Owen, Nidaam had smiled at him.
Barlo had joked at the time, "Even Nidaam knows to treat the saint well. This guy usually snubs even the great elder."
Hearing Barlo’s comment, Nidaam immediately lost his smile, leaving Owen with the words, "If the saint wishes to practice swordsmanship, seek me out," before retreating into his lair.
Little did Owen know, that encounter would be their last.
Owen only knew that Barlo held Nidaam in high esteem.
The sword nurtured for three hundred years reached its zenith at the moment it was wielded, marking the pinnacle of Nidaam’s life, but also his end.
"Saint," Erin said, noticing Owen’s silence and feeling a bit uneasy.
Owen waved his hand, sighing deeply.
Just then, a voice echoed throughout the entire building: "Owen, come out here."
Owen furrowed his brows and looked out the window.
His gaze wasn’t drawn to the scene below initially, but rather to the clouds tinged with red on the horizon.
Far off, the sky resembled a burning cloud, beneath which the Arabic numeral "2" was inscribed, with what appeared to be streaks of blood flowing down from the number, creating a bizarre spectacle that took Owen aback.
Erin whispered beside him, "This is the countdown to the great battle by the Oracle Decree of Rupture. It’s been eight days already."
That meant Owen had been in cultivation for eight days.
He pulled a wry smile and walked out of the building with Erin.
As soon as they stepped outside, a sword light attacked them.
The attacker was an angel, with a luminescent dot on his forehead and six wings extending from his back.
Bystanders gathered around, murmuring among themselves:
"How come Dickens is back? Wasn’t he serving as a guardian for the Azure Church?"
"The war array is about to start, right? He probably came back home."
"He’s looking for trouble with Owen as soon as he returns?"
"It might be the pull of the Oracle Decree of Rupture.
That thing is bizarre."
"Owen’s really out of luck, Dickens is a veteran angel, having reached the master-tier over a hundred years ago, right?"
"Yeah, Dickens is definitely among the top three in terms of combat power in the academy."
Owen faced Dickens with a cold expression.
His eyes were filled with hatred, as if he were looking at the murderer of his father.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails almost dug into his palms, and his body trembled slightly, clearly on the verge of erupting in anger.
Aware that the Oracle Decree of Rupture had not yet taken effect, Owen sneered, "Don’t throw a tantrum here. I’m not in the mood to fight right now."
Dickens’ eyes were bloodshot as he replied coldly, "I want to kill you here in the academy. If you’re a man, fight me in a duel to the death."
At this moment, Finn ran over, shouting, "Dickens, don’t go too far. This is the academy, not a place for you to run amok. And Mr. Owen is not just any man; he is a dragon that stands tall above all."
Dickens stiffly turned his head to look at Finn.
When the powerful surge of arcanergy swept out, a flash of terror crossed Finn’s eyes.
Though both were master-tier, Finn felt like an ant in front of Dickens.
But quickly, that terror turned into deep, uncontrollable rage.
Pointing at Dickens, Finn bellowed, "Dare to lay a hand on me, and are you looking to start a war with the Laine Kingdom? The Oracle Decree of Rupture clearly states that the great war starts in two days. Your provocation now is against the rules."
In ancient times, tribes set specific times and chose locations before commencing their great battles, to minimize the casualties among ordinary beings as much as possible.
The Oracle Decree of Rupture, being an artifact from ancient times, naturally follows this tradition.
With a cold face and an aura brimming with murderous intent, Dickens spat out, "If you utter two more words, I’ll cut out your tongue. I assure you, you’ll never speak again for the rest of your life."
Though he couldn’t kill Finn, disciplining him was still within his means.
And the angel race had more than enough methods to ensure Finn’s tongue wouldn’t heal back.
Finn’s face turned pale, but he still retorted with a feigned bravado, "How dare you! Do you really think this is the angel race’s Celestial Kingdom?"
Owen raised his hand, signaling Finn to step back, "Dickens, if you’re seeking death, then come."
Accepting the challenge, the crowd around them quickly dispersed to a safe distance to watch the impending clash.
