Unholy Player-Chapter 160: Sevrak, The Dragon Rider

"You really ranked up, didn’t you?" Malrik asked with a smirk.

There wasn’t a major change in Adyr’s appearance, but a glance into his eyes revealed something new—an intense glint, as if a vibrant universe had taken root behind them.

Adyr wasn’t surprised he noticed. "Yeah, thanks to you."

He hadn’t even used much of the 6,000 crystals Malrik had paid him, but the help had made a significant difference.

"Thanks to us? Don’t do that. A practitioner only rises through their own talent. Don’t get modest and start giving away credit," Malrik said, patting his shoulder. He wasn’t wrong.

"Alright, let’s go. Don’t keep him waiting. He can be... aggressive." Malrik quickly steered the conversation back to the point, then mounted his Frost Wyvern.

Rather than manifesting his wings, Adyr climbed onto the wyvern with him. Showing up half-naked to meet a Rank 4 practitioner—especially one with a title—wasn’t exactly a great first impression.

Soon, the two were gliding through the air, approaching the place where the massive black dragon had landed.

The dragon’s electric-blue eyes, glowing like storm-charged skies, were lazily fixed on Colossith. The behemoth, on the other hand, seemed entirely unbothered, still focused on what remained of its meal. Its calm, almost indifferent nature was unmistakable.

Adyr couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if the two titans clashed. They seemed to be complete opposites.

The black dragon was clearly a Nether-path Spark—likely with immense [Resilience]. Colossith, despite being from the Astra path, was infamous for its physical durability and reflective hide that turned many attacks back on their caster.

Who would win in a fight was anyone’s guess. But one thing was certain—the destruction would be catastrophic enough to level the entire kingdom.

Oddly, even as he approached the dragon, Adyr didn’t receive a system alert like [Spark Detected]. He figured it was because the Spark had already been subdued by someone else.

As Malrik gave the wyvern the descent command, Adyr’s gaze dropped to the ground below.

In the middle of the dry soil, someone had laid out a massive carpet with five luxurious black leather chairs arranged on it. Four were occupied. The last, likely Malrik’s, was still empty. The practitioners seated there appeared calm, chatting casually.

"He’s here," Mirela said, glancing at the approaching figures with her multicolored eyes.

"Hmm... I thought you said he was Rank 1?" Sevrak asked, legs crossed, his pitch-black eyes swirling with smoky darkness as they fixed on Adyr.

His robes were pitch black, resembling the regal attire of cultivation realms—like Lucen’s white robes, only inverted. His long black hair reached his waist, and his pale skin stood out sharply against the dark fabric.

The black obsidian scales stretched from his chest to his ears. Whether they were part of his race or the result of a practitioner’s evolution was unclear. But that unnaturally white skin alone was enough to make him look like something alien.

He was taller than Adyr, perhaps around 1.85 meters, and looked quite young, early twenties at most. Everything about him gave the air of a sect’s arrogant young master. But Adyr didn’t buy the illusion. He could easily be over a hundred years old.

"Yeah, he was Rank 1 yesterday," Liora Virell said with a giggle. With her short, muscular frame nearly swallowed by the large chair, her feet didn’t even reach the ground.

Adyr hopped off the wyvern and approached with measured steps. At a glance, the atmosphere didn’t seem tense—but that was only an illusion.

"Lord Sevrak. I’m Adyr." He walked straight to the honored guest, who sat like the master of the place, and offered a formal bow.

Sevrak gave him a brief look, then nodded. "I heard you arrived not long ago."

His voice was low and cold, though it held no direct threat.

"Yes, Lord. I’m just traveling, and by chance, I ended up here," Adyr replied—technically not a lie. His presence here was indeed a result of circumstance.

Sevrak nodded again and extended his hand. A sixth seat materialized on the edge of the ornate carpet. "Sit," he said, gesturing.

After offering a polite nod to the others, Adyr took his seat. Malrik followed suit, and silence fell. No one spoke—waiting for Sevrak to begin.

The tension beneath the calm was unmistakable. Everyone resented Sevrak for breaking his promise and failing to show up when Colossith first emerged. But what could they do? He was a powerhouse, and the best they could manage was to swallow their dissatisfaction and maintain a fragile line of communication. Making an enemy of someone like him was the last thing any of them wanted.

"Well, since all the key figures of the Velari Kingdom are here, let’s start with why I’m late," Sevrak said with a smirk. He didn’t seem to care about justifying himself—if anything, he appeared to enjoy the control his presence exerted over them.

Liora’s expression shifted for a moment. Her brows furrowed as if she was about to speak, but she held her tongue.

"Well, something urgent came up. That’s why I was late," Sevrak said bluntly, as though the excuse meant anything. "But it seems you managed to stop it somehow, so I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much." He smiled as he added the last part.

"Yes, Lord Sevrak. Even if you arrived late, your presence is appreciated," Mirela quickly replied, just before Liora could speak.

She knew that if her big sister Liora opened her mouth, her personality and sharp tongue might ignite a full-blown conflict.

Sevrak let out a soft chuckle. "Since I came all this way, I’ll help regardless. I gave my word, after all. Now that Colossith has fed, it should be considerably weakened. Its size seems to be shrinking, too. If you’d like, I can capture it for you. That would put an end to your kingdom’s problem—permanently."

His tone and words sounded generous, even cooperative—but no one in the circle was fooled. The intent behind his offer was anything but selfless. Everyone could see the personal gain behind it.

Colossith, as he said, appeared close to slumber. It would have left soon. A practitioner with a Rank 4 Spark, like his Black Dragon, stood a real chance of capturing it.

While a Nether Path user couldn’t truly subdue an Astra-aligned Spark, he could later trade it for another. The value of such a creature was immense. Holding two Rank 4 Sparks would place any practitioner among the region’s elite with ease.

And of course, that wasn’t his only motive.

"Also, with this, I can take that young woman with me without feeling guilty. What was her name again? Vesha? My grandson really liked her. I imagine there’s no issue if I take her as a maid."

The atmosphere instantly chilled.

Liora finally spoke. "Grandson? Maid? I thought you wanted her for yourself, as your consort. When did that change?"

Her voice was sharp, laced with restrained anger.

When Sevrak had first offered to help, it was under the condition that if they defeated Colossith, he’d claim Vesha as his official consort, impressed by her beauty. A formal arrangement.

But there was a vast difference between taking her as a wife and demoting her to a maid for his grandson. Such a shift in status would strip her of any protection or influence, and everyone there could imagine the kind of life a girl like her might face in the hands of such a man’s family.

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