Dragonia's silence had ended.
And the moment it did, the world finally remembered something it had "forgotten" for far too long:
A dragon can sleep.
That doesn't mean it lost its claws.
For days, the God-Nation Alliance had used Adrian Vale as a blade—shouting "morality" with one hand while reaching for Dragonia's resources with the other.
At first, it was "condemn Adrian."
Then it became "condemn Dragonia."
And now, it was open extortion:
"Cut Adrian off!"
"Hand over the resources!"
"Get off Blue Star!"
They didn't want justice.
They wanted Dragonia to kneel.
God-Nation Alliance — The Knife Gets Sharpened
In a sealed conference hall, Miracle Nation's representative finally showed his real face.
Liam Davenport's voice was calm, almost polite.
"Dragonia won't fold under noise."
He paused, then smiled faintly.
"So we stop relying on noise."
The Eastern Isles' balding official leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"You mean… internal destabilization."
Liam nodded.
"Years ago, Miracle Nation planted enough 'organizations' inside Dragonia. They've been waiting for a moment like this."
The room's air turned heavier.
Because everyone understood what those words meant:
Not debate.
Not diplomacy.
Sabotage.
The Eastern Isles official chuckled.
"We have nails too."
Liam's smile deepened.
"Good. Then we light the fuse together."
And just like that, the plan was set—quiet, poisonous, aimed at Dragonia's spine.
Dragonia — A Purge That Arrived Like Thunder
But they underestimated one thing.
Dragonia had tolerated for years, not because it couldn't strike—
but because it chose restraint.
Once restraint was gone, the response was immediate.
That same day, the sweep began.
"Charities" vanished overnight.
"Civil organizations" had their doors kicked in at dawn.
"Companies" were sealed before lunch.
In ports, in alleyways, in basements that never saw sunlight—hidden networks were ripped out by the roots.
No warnings.
No public speeches.
Just results.
In Dragonia's high-level meeting hall, reports piled up like snow.
An aide spoke with a stiff expression.
"Elder Long… the first wave is complete. The scale is bigger than expected."
Elder Long didn't look surprised.
He only exhaled once, slow and heavy.
"My gut tells me… the old rules are about to break."
He lifted his gaze.
"And when the rules break, the ones who survive are the ones who move first."
No one in that room dared to speak after that.
Because they all understood:
Dragonia had decided.
If the world wanted a fight—
then Dragonia would give them one.
Divine Domain: Forbidden Zone — Adrian Vale
Inside the Forbidden Zone, Adrian had no idea how many knives were being drawn for him outside.
He had just crossed the threshold.
Half-Kakuja: Centipede.
The new power sat in his bones like a sleeping hunger—quiet, heavy, patient.
He stood in a wasteland stained dark with blood and iron.
The air still carried the stench of what had happened here.
Adrian's ghoul eye pulsed once.
Then he frowned slightly.
Because the ground beneath his feet—
shivered.
At first, it was subtle.
A low vibration that felt like distant thunder.
Then it grew stronger.
Closer.
The sand lifted in tiny ripples.
A wet scraping sound followed—rapid, layered—like countless legs brushing stone.
Adrian's head turned.
His posture didn't change.
But something behind him shifted, almost like a segmented shadow settling into place.
The viewers watching his stream didn't even realize they were holding their breath.
Then the Will of Blue Star rang out—cold, absolute, heard in every competitor's mind:
[Congratulations! Dragonia competitor Adrian Vale has encountered a Divine Domain: Forbidden Zone creature. Analyzing…]
The ground in front of him bulged upward.
Cracked.
Split.
Something massive was coming.
Adrian's lips lifted by a fraction.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Anticipation.
"…Good," he murmured, voice calm as a blade.
And the earth finally erupted.
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