I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 702: He’s truly a frightening Kaiser

The command was broadcast across every telepathic frequency simultaneously, a shriek of pure panic that cut through the organized formations like a blade through silk.

The Herald had perceived it.

The unfathomable concentration of power emanating from that diminutive, obsidian sphere. He had detected the void-signature, the profound influence of dark magic that surpassed their collective capabilities.

The draconic brigades didn’t have time to process the command before the sphere reached its maximum altitude.

The implosion began.

The black lightning sphere didn’t explode outward immediately. It folded inward instead, creating a localized vacuum that existed at the intersection of physical law and magical theory.

The vacuum pulled at everything within its radius. The atmosphere itself.

The very concept of existence.

The screams started then.

Dragons at the center of the formation felt their bodies drawn toward the vacuum’s origin.

Their wings, which had been designed through millions of years of evolution to carry them through any environment, suddenly became useless as the air itself was being consumed.

Their armor-like scales, which could withstand impacts that would liquefy stone, found themselves powerless against the pulling force.

The dragons in the left flank, the dense, interlocking aerial grid where 1,113 creatures flew in perfect synchronization, felt the vacuum’s grasp most keenly.

The dissolution began at the edges first.

Dragons at the periphery of the affected radius felt their scales beginning to sublimate.

Their bodies began to convert directly from solid matter into microscopic black ash, the process happening at a cellular level, their nervous systems registering pain for less than a microsecond before the neural tissue itself disintegrated.

The creatures at the center of the formation experienced something far worse.

They had just enough time to recognize what was happening.

Just enough cognitive function to understand that the small, insignificant sphere had contained something that transcended their existence.

Their wings began to crumble, the bony structure disintegrating into charcoal and then into vapor.

Their bodies started to compress inward as the vacuum’s pulling force intensified, their massive frames being folded into increasingly smaller volumes of space.

Some of the dragons tried to dive away from the effect, their instinctive escape response to the Herald’s command.

Their wings beat frantically, their bodies contorting in maneuvers that should have been impossible for creatures of their size.

They almost made it. A handful of the outlying formations managed to escape the primary radius, their bodies scorched and bleeding but still functional.

But 1,113 dragons did not.

The Ruin Pulse erupted outward.

Not an explosion. That terminology was too crude, too limiting for this technique.

This was an eruption of reality itself, rejecting the presence of this much concentrated dark magic. The shockwave-driven wave of destructive energy laced with black lightning tore across the sky with the force of a continental collision.

The propagation of the wave generated intense atmospheric friction, resulting in the complete obliteration of any dragons attempting to evade its path. The shockwave’s passage rendered their physical forms and fundamental existence entirely null.

The dissolution was as absolute as the sun setting every night.

Bodies are converted to microscopic black ash in the space of fractions of a second.

The process was carried out with such thoroughness and finality that no discernible period of suffering ensued.

The entities in question simply ceased to exist.

Their protective coverings disintegrated into dust, their skeletal structures vaporized, and their bodily fluids dispersed into particles of such minute size that their descent from the atmosphere would span an extended duration.

The shockwave continued its expansion, tearing through the lower cloud deck, creating a miles-wide gap in the atmospheric structure.

The temperature differential collapsed. The pressure waves that had been building throughout the Herald’s descent suddenly found themselves reversed, bouncing back down through the cloud layers and then up into the stratosphere itself.

——-

In the high observation chambers of Caeloria, the massive scrying mirrors that had been displaying the descent of the draconic army suddenly flashed with an absolute, blinding blackness.

The light itself was invalidated.

The magical projection screens, which had been refined through centuries of elven craftsmanship, which had withstood every magical assault the kingdom had ever suffered, which could display combat across continental distances, momentarily lost coherence.

When the image resolved, the observers were staring at a sky that had fundamentally changed.

Where the left flanking wing of the draconic brigade had been flying in perfect formation, there was now only empty space. The void where 1,113 dragons had occupied air and reality just moments before.

The remaining dragons, approximately 3,185 creatures still falling through the atmosphere, had scattered.

Their organized formations had disintegrated into chaos. Dragons were colliding with each other in panicked attempts to disperse.

The telepathic network experienced an overwhelming influx of distress signals, reflecting the profound terror and disorientation of beings who had just encountered an event that surpassed their comprehension of magical capabilities.

Queen Morvana, who had been sitting in her high seat with the absolute, indifferent arrogance of an elven ruler who viewed humans as nothing more than lesser, irrelevant beings, completely lost her royal composure.

She spat out her drink. The golden liquid that had been midway through her mouth erupted across her chin and down the front of her emerald silk robes.

Her eyes widened with a kind of breathless, absolute disbelief as her mind was still attempting to process what had just occurred on the scrying mirror.

A single human standing alone in a desolate borderland. Had just killed more than a thousand dragons with what appeared to be a single spell.

“Impossible,” she whispered, her royal voice cracking with the force of her shock. “That spell. Humans don’t possess that kind of magic control.”

Her words trailed off into incoherence as she continued staring at the empty sky where the dragons had been.

Myrine Archon stood completely motionless.

Her strategic analysis, encompassing the ramifications of the draconic convergence, the wartime decree, and the necessity of relocating Jack Kaiser from the capital, abruptly crystallized into an unequivocal conclusion.

She recognized the exact structure of the explosion’s magic. The specific way the dark energy had imploded before erupting outward. The particular signature of the shockwave itself.

Dark Nova: Ruin Pulse.

The apex bloodline skill of House Kaiser. The technique that had made the Kaiser family legendary. It was a Skill created by Astraios, but lost to time until Jack’s grandfather recreated it and passed it down.

The spell that had been used to end wars, to topple tyrants, to demonstrate that individual magical capability could transcend entire military formations.

She had thoroughly reviewed the historical documentation and meticulously analyzed the theoretical underpinnings of the technique.

She comprehended the profound implications of Jack Kaiser’s proficiency, not only in his ability to employ the skill but also in his capacity to execute it with such precision as to target a specific formation, neutralizing 1,113 dragons without affecting the primary brigade, all while exerting minimal physical effort.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her nails cut crescents into her palms. Blood welled from the puncture wounds.

“He’s a Kaiser,” she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of absolute realization. “He’s truly a frightening Kaiser. Just like his father.”

Shout Out to Xenedra64 and Romir_Campbell on Golden Tickets!