Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill

Chapter 318: 318:The Thorns Hidden Underneath

Ethan immediately stepped back, his eyes fixed on Rathlos. What happened next would decide everything, not only for Rathlos but for the future of the wyverns as well.

“Who knows,” Ethan muttered. “Maybe he will even gain some inspiration.”

The moment Rathlos swallowed the potion, an intense heat exploded outward.

His body trembled as flames erupted across his skin. Black and purple scales glowed red, then darkened again. The air around him warped violently.

A deep and thunderous draconic roar burst from his throat, shaking the land.

The wyverns below instantly responded. One after another, they raised their heads and roared as well, their voices echoing like a chorus answering their king.

Inside Rathlos’s body, two bloodlines clashed.

The shadow dragon bloodline surged like a cold abyss, heavy and devouring. At the same time, the flame dragon bloodline erupted like a raging sun, fierce and unyielding. Darkness swallowed flame, and flame burned through darkness. Neither was willing to yield.

Ethan could see it clearly.

For a brief moment, faint silhouettes appeared behind Rathlos. One was a massive dragon formed of shadow, its eyes cold and ancient. The other was a blazing dragon of fire, its body burning with pride and destruction. The two roared at each other, colliding again and again.

Rathlos’s body began to change.

His muscles expanded, then compressed. His wings stretched wider, their edges glowing with crimson lines. His horns twisted slightly, gaining sharper ridges. Even his aura changed, becoming deeper, heavier, and far more terrifying.

Then—

BOOOOOM!

A thunderous explosion erupted from Rathlos’s body.

Ethan reacted instantly. He raised his hand, casting multiple layers of magic to suppress the sound and nullify the shockwaves before they could spread.

The ground still cracked, but the damage stopped there.

Below, the wyverns stared up at their king with awe. Their eyes shone with reverence, and their roars turned into cries of celebration.

As the flames faded and the darkness settled, Rathlos slowly opened his eyes.

Dense and highly condensed mana swirled around him like a living storm.

Ethan’s eyes widened.

“HOLY SHIT!”

“THIS GUY MANAGED TO BREAK PAST THE SHACKLE!”

For a moment, Ethan could not contain his excitement. His heart pounded, and he almost wanted to dance on the spot.

’Kekeke…King,you son of a bitch,’ Ethan thought with a twisted grin.

’Next time we meet, be ready to get leveled… or else.’

…..

Somewhere in the capital, a sense of unease hung thick in the air.

The reason was simple.

The King, who was about to turn one hundred years old, had announced a grand celebration.

Reaching a hundred years of age with such a frail body was indeed an achievement. On the surface, it was a reason for joy and festivity. The capital was already being decorated, and invitations had been sent far and wide.

Yet beneath the music, the wine, and the smiles, countless eyes watched the King closely.

Everyone was wondering the same thing.

When would this senile old man finally name a Crown Prince?

The King had ruled Ruthina for more than sixty years, yet there was not a single achievement worth remembering under his reign. No great reform, no lasting policy, no moment that history would praise.

At this point, the King barely remembered his own decrees. He often forgot the names of nobles, ignored important matters, and failed to attend council meetings. Yet there was one thing he never forgot.

The taste of wine.

Days passed in indulgence. Nights were spent surrounded by beauties. His life had become a cycle of pleasure and excess, and nothing more.

There was not a shred of respect left for him.

And yet, many still wondered how such a man managed to sit on the throne so comfortably.

The answer was obvious.

A weak king posed no threat to the nobility.

As long as the King remained powerless and careless, the nobles were free to grow stronger, richer, and bolder. They controlled the land, the armies, and the economy, while the King drowned himself in wine.

To them, this arrangement was perfect.

However, not everyone agreed.

“This needs to change.”

A man with a pale face stepped forward into the dimly lit chamber. His footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor as he looked at the figures gathered around him.

Every person present wore a mask that concealed their face. Dark cloth covered their features, leaving only cold eyes visible. Even without seeing their expressions, one could feel it.

Their bodies exuded a bone-chilling ruthlessness.

The man walked slowly among them and extended his hand, his voice calm but firm.

“This kingdom has rotted,” he said.

“The King does not care. The nobles do not care. Even the other princes do not care,” he continued, his tone growing colder. “All they care about is their own profit.”

His words echoed through the chamber, heavy and sharp.

“People are still betting that the King will announce a Crown Prince on his hundredth birthday,” he said. “But I am sure he will not.”

A faint murmur spread among the masked figures.

“The King needs to be replaced,” the man said plainly. “I have thought carefully about your proposal.”

He stopped and turned toward one of the masked figures standing slightly apart from the others.

“Will you truly keep your promise?” he asked.

“Will you do exactly as you said?”

The masked figure did not hesitate.

“Yes,” the voice replied, distorted and low. “We swear in the name of the Lord we serve. Under the guidance of the Great One,as long as you agree to our request, you may do whatever you wish.”

The man narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You speak boldly,” he said. “But are you truly capable?”

The masked figure stepped forward.

“Yes,” the voice said firmly. “Leave everything to us. We will make sure that no one walks out of that place.”

Silence followed.

The man and the masked figure stared at each other, as if trying to see through the other’s soul. It was a moment filled with suspicion, ambition, and hidden intent.

Finally, the man extended his hand.

“Deal,” he said.

The masked figure grasped his hand tightly.

“Yes,” the figure replied. “It is a deal.”

In the darkness of the chamber, their handshake sealed a decision that would soon shake the entire kingdom.

Far above them, the capital prepared for celebration, unaware that beneath the music and wine, a storm was already taking shape.

…..

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