Rebirth as a Time Dragon

After the conclave of the gods ended, Garon returned to the Hall of Eternal Heroes.

Under the gaze of his force dragon mate, the silver dragon produced a peculiar liquid.

This liquid was colorless and transparent, viscous, and constantly shifting forms. At times, it took on the shapes of ferocious beasts like lions and tigers; other times, it transformed into mountains, trees, and even the sky and the earth. It had no fixed shape and emanated an overwhelming aura of power.

"What is this?" Yuna asked curiously.

She could feel the terrifying oppressive force emanating from the strange liquid in Garon's claws.

It was alive and very dangerous.

But with Garon nearby, Yuna felt safe, unafraid, only curious.

"The Faceless King. It can transform into anything with absolute fidelity. It once battled the Metal Dragon God without yielding, a primordial entity of immense power."

If the Faceless King hadn't recklessly used the Time Dragon's reverse flow, the pseudo-powerful deity Garon it transformed into would have posed significant trouble, even if only for a brief period.

"What are you planning to do with it? Admire your trophy?" Yuna teased as she played with the treasures piled in the dragon's lair.

Among the hoard were numerous time ambers, each sealing away various primordial entities. Garon often napped nestled among these time ambers, enjoying a deeper, sweeter sleep surrounded by his collections.

Garon frequently admired and toyed with his treasures. But this time, taking out the Faceless King wasn't for mere admiration.

"I'm thinking of turning it into a new avatar," Garon said, his silver eyes narrowing as he carefully examined the shifting liquid form of the Faceless King.

The Faceless King's spirit and soul had been taken by the Amethyst Garon. Now, it was just an empty shell, a body imbued with the pseudo-powerful divine strength but devoid of a soul.

This is why Garon hadn't sealed it in time amber and could handle it freely.

In its current state, the Faceless King posed no threat to Garon.

"Then go ahead and try," Yuna encouraged. "You've had experience creating avatars before; you should be able to do it successfully."

Yuna nodded, then added, "I feel like I'm very close to reaching pseudo-intermediate divine power. I need to rest deeply."

After some conversation, Yuna followed her usual routine, burrowing into the bottom of the dragon's lair. She took with her a dragon egg that Garon had carelessly placed at the edge of the lair, then settled into sleep.

Garon willed a small stream of life energy to gather into a cocoon around Yuna.

Having used much of his own life energy during his breakthrough, he didn't draw too much now. These energies were just supplementary. To reach pseudo-intermediate divine power, Yuna would mostly rely on herself.

For a force dragon, there was no significant barrier between pseudo-minor and pseudo-intermediate divine power. Given enough time, it was a natural progression. When the time felt right, they usually achieved the breakthrough without any surprises. With Garon's assistance, Yuna's success was almost guaranteed.

Once Yuna fell into a deep sleep, the lair grew quiet and serene.

In this peaceful setting, Garon focused his gaze on the ever-changing liquid in his claws.

"Faceless King."

"You once said that mastering time was a delightful feeling that enchanted you."

"Now, your chance has come — a chance to truly become part of me."

Garon whispered softly as his massive form shimmered. Though his body remained solid, his aura became ethereal, almost unreal, as if existing simultaneously in the present, past, and future, transcending the current timeline into the river of time itself.

A faint ripple spread through the temporal river covering the entire realm of the heroes, shaping into an immense, intangible dragon silhouette. This colossal spectral dragon mirrored the serene expression and calm eyes of the silver dragon in the lair.

This was a peculiar state of simultaneous existence and independence.

In the lair, the physical silver dragon extended a claw, the temporal river water flowing between the scales. Garon's eyes gleamed with a myriad of reflections.

At the same time, the massive temporal dragon encompassing the Heroic Domain also reached out with a claw made of flowing time.

The strange liquid form of the Faceless King was caught between these two dragon claws, one large and one small, one real and one spectral.

With Garon's guidance, the temporal river within the Heroic Domain surged with turbulent waves.

Unfortunately, this phenomenon was noticed by only a few beings; the inhabitants of the Heroic Domain remained unaware, continuing their daily lives.

Wave after wave of time currents, infused with Garon's spirit, converged upon the colorless liquid.

In Garon's claws, a vortex of temporal energy had formed.

Simultaneously, the Faceless King was inundated with this energy.

Buzzing and humming, the previously formless and chaotic liquid began to reshape according to Garon's will.

First, a robust torso emerged, followed by a head and limbs. Then, wide wings sprouted, along with a long tail. Scales began to form, followed by majestic horns. Soon, a lifelike replica of Garon, another Time Dragon, stood in the dragon's lair in the Hall of Eternal Heroes.

Suddenly, the newly formed dragon's wings melted like wax near a flame, reverting to liquid form.

The next moment, it reformed, but the transformations continued.

The dragon's wings, head, claws, horns, and scales all occasionally melted, unable to fully take shape under Garon's will.

Given the Faceless King's immense transformative ability, reshaping it should have been simple.

"... There's still some residual, unconscious instinct."

"It's instinctively resisting my will."

"If I hadn't reached pseudo-powerful divine strength, this might have been a challenge. But now, it's just futile resistance."

Garon's eyes remained cold as he watched the transforming Faceless King in his claws.

In its current state, the Faceless King was merely a pseudo-powerful divine shell.

However, there remained some remnants of instinct within this shell.

Given another ten thousand years, these instincts might develop into a new consciousness, a new soul, rebirthing as another Faceless King through this peculiar process, essentially passing down its legacy.

But Garon had decided to turn the Faceless King into his primordial avatar, necessitating the complete eradication of its lingering instincts.

With its primordial nature, the Faceless King was exceptionally suited for becoming an avatar. Any deity obtaining it and managing to eliminate its residual instincts could transform it into their avatar.

Its adaptability was even higher than that of the Time Abomination, which was the predecessor of the Time God.

After all, the Faceless King could transform into Garon with astonishing accuracy, albeit briefly, showcasing its immense transformative power.

"Let's see how stubborn you are."

The silver dragon closed his eyes slightly, focusing part of his consciousness into the temporal river, continuing to infuse it into the Faceless King.

Garon's consciousness descended into a bizarre world.

It was a world beyond description, filled with surreal, ever-changing visions.

The surrounding scenery was never fixed, constantly shifting.

One moment, the sky turned into a vast ocean; the next, the ocean collapsed into the eye of a colossal beast, which then morphed into mountains and forests. The landscape was chaotic and unpredictable, defying comprehension.

Garon's consciousness condensed into the form of a radiant, scaled silver dragon.

With an impassive expression, Garon surveyed the chaotic, ever-shifting world.

As his gaze swept across, everything within sight became still.

The chaotic scenery froze, its myriad colors and forms turning into an abstract painting-like world.

Suddenly, the canvas began to stir.

In this world of will, a searing red iron-clad claw, radiating intense heat and steam, descended from the sky like a massive continent, aiming directly at the silver dragon formed by Garon's consciousness.

Looking up, Garon's vision was filled with the overwhelming giant claw.

An overpowering sense of helplessness and unresistible oppression loomed over him.

"Is this all it takes to try and shake my will?"

The dragon shook his head slightly.

Garon unfurled his wings and soared into the sky.

Though his form was merely a few hundred meters long, he fearlessly charged at the giant claw.

Crash!

The silver dragon, tiny as a speck of dust against the massive claw, collided with it. 

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Then, countless cracks spread across the giant claw, shattering it into fragments.

The Faceless King's remaining instincts resisted, trying to expel Garon's invading consciousness.

But, facing the unyielding, steely will of the Time Dragon, the fragmented, instinct-driven consciousness of the Faceless King stood no chance.

No matter how the residual instincts of the Faceless King postured or what methods they employed, they could only crumble before Garon's will.

Boom!

After another clash, the Faceless King's will shattered into countless sparks, scattering throughout the will-world, no longer opposing Garon's consciousness but instinctively retreating, breaking into fragments.

Garon's will, now fragmented into countless miniature silver dragons, each pursued a piece of the Faceless King's will, hunting them down.

The Faceless King's remaining will possessed a strong survival instinct.

It fought desperately to elude Garon.

But all its efforts were in vain, merely making Garon exert a bit more effort.

Time flowed quietly.

In the Hall of Eternal Heroes, the silver dragon with closed eyes stood over a dragon that resembled himself, its form occasionally melting. However, the melting slowed, and a gleam of life began to emerge in its

 eyes.

...

The Abyss, the 570th layer.

Under the light of a blood-red Abyssal moon, there stood an opulent fortress adorned with countless gemstones, ribbons, and suggestive motifs, dominated by colors of lust and corruption like pink, red, and black.

This fortress belonged to the ruler of this Abyssal layer, the Succubus Queen.

Succubus Queen Mephistopheles, the most alluring demon lord of the Abyss. Regardless of race, status, or gender, anyone with a sense of beauty would be captivated by her unmatched allure.

She possessed a lithe, humanoid figure, her fiery red lips always curved in a lazy smile, her eyes smoldering with seductive charm, like precious gems reflecting a fiery passion.

Never before had a succubus earned the title of Succubus Queen until Mephistopheles. With her unparalleled beauty, she stood out among all succubi, turning one powerful demon lord after another into her thralls, thus solidifying her position.

Because of her extensive network of alliances, even pseudo-powerful demon lords would not lightly oppose the Succubus Queen.

At this moment, the Succubus Queen was clad in a sheer, form-fitting red silk robe.

Under the crystal lights of the palace's ceiling, her exquisite, curvaceous form was perfectly outlined.

A rough, furry hand was wrapped around her slender waist, groping and squeezing without regard for her delicate beauty.

The hand belonged to a demon archduke.

"Baphomet, my strong and brave archduke, haven't you had enough?" Mephistopheles purred softly.

The demon archduke with massive, menacing bull horns atop his head, Beast Lord Baphomet, laughed heartily and said, "No matter how many times I come to you, no matter how long I stay, it will never be enough. The pleasure you give me is endless."

In her current form, the Succubus Queen stood about 1.6 meters tall, while the Beast Lord was a towering 3 meters of solid, muscular bulk.

The Succubus Queen sat on the Beast Lord's lap, her waist no thicker than his wrist.

The stark contrast between them painted a striking picture of beauty and the beast.

"In that case, why not stay for a while longer, Archduke? You can do whatever you want with me," the Succubus Queen said in a voice as soft and tender as a fawn's, her words dripping with seduction and vulnerability, inciting a powerful urge to dominate.

The Beast Lord hesitated, then shook his head with difficulty. "No, the War of Kings is at a crucial point against the Worm King and the Spider Queen. I can't stay away for too long."

The Succubus Queen feigned disappointment, looking pitifully at him. "Can't you stay a bit longer for me?"

The Beast Lord's heart burned with desire, but after a moment of inner struggle, he shook his head.

"My beauty, once I become the Abyssal King, I will stay in your palace day and night, reveling in pleasure with you."

Though he was enticed by her beauty, Baphomet, to rise to the rank of a demon archduke, also possessed a firm and resolute will.

"Alright then."

The Succubus Queen snuggled against Baphomet's broad, powerful chest, her delicate hand caressing his coarse, black chest hair.

"Archduke, since the Primordial God was defeated, it seems the Pantheon's attention has turned to the Abyss."

"With the Nine-Faced Dragon God and the Heavenly Emperor leading them, do we stand a chance against the Pantheon if they decide to invade the Abyss? I'm a little worried and scared."

She displayed a look of fear and apprehension.

"With me by your side, what is there to fear?"

"If the gods invade the Abyss, they will be at a disadvantage fighting us demons on our own turf."

"Besides, though the War of Kings is fierce, if the gods descend and meddle in the Abyss, we demon lords will unite temporarily to fend them off. If the Pantheon decides to attack the Abyss after the War of Kings has a victor, it's not clear who will be invading whom."

"Furthermore, the Pantheon won't target the King Slayers first."

Baphomet spoke slowly.

After the Dawn War, the Undying Queen had contacted Baphomet, promising the Beast Lord that once the Pantheon had recovered to a certain extent, they would assist the King Slayers against the other two demon princes.

The former pact with the dragon pantheon had now become a significant assurance for the King Slayers.

"I see."

"Then I'm not afraid anymore. I trust you will protect me."

The Succubus Queen laughed softly.

"Ha! Don't worry, how could I bear to see you get hurt?"

Speaking further, Baphomet asked casually, "By the way, my beauty, has Demogorgon contacted you after his downfall?"

The Succubus Queen lightly slapped Baphomet's chest, feigning anger. "Did you come to me just to inquire about Demogorgon? How annoying."

The Succubus Queen had connections with many demon lords in the Abyss.

The most powerful among them was Demogorgon, the Prince of Demons.

It was Demogorgon's favor that had helped her secure her position, becoming the first true Succubus Queen in history.

It was only natural for Baphomet to suspect that Demogorgon might be hiding with her.

The Beast Lord grabbed her tightly, pulling her into a crushing embrace, as if trying to meld her into his own body.

"A cornered beast is the most dangerous. He's a significant threat now, and I fear he might harm you."

Seeing the Succubus Queen's mock anger, the archduke explained.

"I trust you understand the situation."

"If you encounter Demogorgon, stall him and find a way to contact me."

"If we can capture Demogorgon, my beauty, I'm confident I can ascend to the throne of the Abyssal King. Then I will crown you as my queen, ruling over countless demons and endless worlds together."

Hearing Baphomet's bold words, the Succubus Queen displayed a look of longing and anticipation.

Her eyes glowed with fervor as she whispered seductively, "Archduke..."

Her soft hand slid down the archduke's stomach, venturing lower.

"Sigh, my beauty, I really must go."

"The Lady of Chaos and the Spider Queen are formidable foes. Their power is growing, and I need to discuss cooperation with the Worm King on behalf of the King Slayers."

Afterward, Baphomet reluctantly parted from the Succubus Queen, leaving her territory with regret.

As soon as she confirmed that the Beast Lord had left her Abyssal layer, the Succubus Queen's affectionate expression vanished.

She adjusted her appearance, straightening her waist-length waterfall of hair and smoothing the wrinkles on her silk robe, transforming from a disheveled state into an unmatched beauty once more.

"Baphomet has left."

"Come out."

In the opulent palace room, the Succubus Queen suddenly spoke.

At the same time, in the corner of the palace, near a floor-to-ceiling window draped with light curtains, under the glow of the blood-red Abyssal moon, the shadows on the ground wriggled like ink, rising to form a solid silhouette.

This figure turned to face the Succubus Queen, its sinister gaze locking onto hers.

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