Novels by Drakon Flameborn

Tarian Lysand felt… uneasy. Not just the usual kind of imperial caution, but a gnawing, unusual nervousness he couldn’t shake.The battle between Kaelen Viremont and Lorian Zethar earlier still played over and over in his mind like a relentless storm. The sheer intensity, the speed, the raw, terrifying strength—it had been more than impressive. It had been frightening.Kaelen had fought like a force of nature, a young man capable of tearing the heavens apart. Not just a cultivator, no. A prodigy who had descended into the world, and one powerful enough to unsettle even an emperor. That was exactly why Tarian Lysand felt off balance.He had no clue why Kaelen had asked to see him—alone.The battlefield had quieted. Most of the major figures had left, their presence no longer needed. Only a few elders from the Shadowfang Sect lingered in the distance, observing with cautious eyes.Kaelen stood not far away. Injured, yes, but still emanating a pressure that made anyone nearby instinctive

“I’m fine.”Kaelen Viremont leaned against Kael’s arm, putting more weight on him than he probably wanted to admit. His face had gone pale—almost paper white—and every breath seemed heavier than the last. Still, somehow, he managed to force out a faint smile.The fight had taken nearly everything out of him.At this point, even standing straight felt like a challenge.But his eyes?Still sharp. Still clear.After a moment, his gaze slowly drifted across the battlefield. Broken stone, scattered weapons, people standing in stunned silence… and then his eyes settled on someone not far away.The Northern Suppressing King.The man who had looked so arrogant earlier now seemed like a completely different person. Gone was the proud ruler who had spoken with absolute confidence. His face was pale—deathly pale—and fear filled his eyes.Kaelen watched him quietly for a few seconds.Then he spoke.“Senior Brother Kael,” he said softly, “kill him.”His tone wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic either.

“You…!”Zephiron Glacien’s face went pale in an instant.The man standing before him looked barely thirty. White robes fluttered gently in the wind, and his expression was calm—almost indifferent.But Zephiron knew better.Liethan wasn’t young. Not really.They were from the same generation, nearly the same age—both closing in on fifty. Back in the day, they had been two of the most brilliant prodigies of their era. Now, though… their paths had diverged. And today, they stood on opposite sides of a battlefield that could swallow men whole.Zephiron’s eyes narrowed slowly. A cold light flickered deep within them as he fixed his gaze on the white-robed swordsman.“Step aside,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a deadly edge.“That brat—Kaelen Viremont—killed my son. Today, I take his life. No one can stop me.”The air seemed to freeze. Onlookers instinctively stepped back, sensing the raw killing intent beneath Zephiron’s restrained tone.Liethan didn’t move. Not an inch.The gentle

“Ah—!”A sharp cry ripped through the air as Kaelen Viremont’s body suddenly shook, hard enough that it looked like he might collapse at any second.Pain flooded him. Not the dull kind either—the kind that comes in relentless waves, one after another, like the ocean slamming against jagged cliffs. It crushed into his bones, twisted through his muscles, and squeezed the air straight out of his lungs. For a moment—just a moment—he genuinely thought his body might crumble apart like dry sand.It was unbearable.The invisible pressure bearing down on him carried a frightening weight. It felt less like an attack and more like the heavens themselves had dropped an unseen mountain right on top of his shoulders.His knees trembled.Almost buckled.But he didn’t fall.Kaelen forced himself upright, every muscle screaming in protest. His face was twisted in pain, yet the fire in his eyes refused to die.“Zephiron Glacien!”His voice burst out like thunder, rough and strained but blazing with fu

Buzz!The air itself seemed to tear apart. A terrifying, colossal aura descended, as a curtain of divine might draped across the earth. The ground trembled. Every cultivator scattered across the battlefield sucked in a sharp breath, disbelief freezing their bones.Zephiron Glacien.A peerless overlord, transcending even the Divine Ability Realm.He had arrived.Thud!Thud!Not just sounds. Each thud was a pulse of raw power, a shockwave that pressed on hearts, minds, and souls alike. Disciples who had dared to stand tall moments ago now crumpled to their knees, pale faces shaking under the weight of sheer, divine presence.No one—no one—could have imagined the sheer magnitude of Zephiron Glacien’s cultivation. From the distant territories of the Zephiron Bing Tribe, beyond the edge of the Great Wasteland, he had sensed his son’s death. Rage consumed him. And in the blink of an eye, he crossed immeasurable space to arrive here.“This… this is bad!” Kaelen Viremont’s eyes widened. His b

Mentor Kaelric’s voice wasn’t just loud—it was sharp, heavy, threatening. It rolled over the battlefield like distant thunder before a storm, the kind that makes your stomach tighten even before the rain starts.And yet… the figure standing across from Kaelen Viremont didn’t so much as twitch.Under that black robe stood the Innate Dao Embryo. Silent. Still. No breath. No blinking. No fear. Honestly, it looked less like a person and more like something carved out of an ancient mountain and told to stand there forever.It wasn’t alive.It was a vessel. Nothing more.“Go.”Kaelen said it softly. Almost lazily, like he was telling someone to close a door.But the moment that word left his lips, something shifted. His soul surged outward, thin and sharp as a blade. A connection locked into place.The Innate Dao Embryo moved.No hesitation. No measuring the distance. It simply stepped forward.The ground cracked under its first step.Inside that stone body was the strength of dozens of anc

Nine figures surged forward, moving like a single, lethal blade. Darian Kaelthorn led the charge, Dathric Valen and Chenvar flanking him on left and right. Ysera held the rear, calm and ready, while Mo Liora, her four companions, and Huo Qingshan formed a solid support line in the center. Together, they stormed toward the Wild Demon Forest—a cyclone of raw power and unshakable resolve.Bang! Thud!Darian’s fists clenched. Six golden suns erupted around him, blazing with scorching heat. Every step forward sent waves of searing light crashing into the charging monsters. Lower- and mid-third-level beasts disintegrated instantly, their screams swallowed by the inferno of energy.The few that slipped past were met by Dathric and Chenvar, strikes precise, brutal, and unrelenting. The nine moved with a synchronized rhythm, fast, fierce, unstoppable. The Wild Demon Forest loomed closer with every step.Darian’s eyes swept the battlefield. The original ten thousand disciples, once scattered an

“Vice Sect Leader of the Supreme Path of All Heavens?”The words hung in the air. Darian Kaelthorn froze. His companions did too. Eyes widened. Awe tingled in every glance toward the Black-and-White Saint Lord. Reverence. That kind of reserved for legends whispered late at night, when no one else could hear.The Supreme Path of All Heavens… a super sect of the Frostveil Dominion. Ancient. Colossal. A force carved over countless centuries. Its history alone could crush ordinary mortals under its weight. And yet, here stood its Vice Sect Leader. What kind of being could reach that? What talent, what cunning, what sheer ruthlessness…?On the high platform, the Black-and-White Saint Lord stood, hands clasped behind his back. His aura rippled outward like a tidal wave, brushing over the crowd, stirring hearts. New disciples, elders, even seasoned fighters—they all felt it. A tremor that brushed against the soul itself.“Another Newcomer Competition, huh?” His voice was calm, almost teasing

Crimsonlotus’s teasing drew warm, easy smiles from the group, yet when Caelyra’s gaze flicked toward Darian Kaelthorn, she caught only a fleeting hint of helplessness in his expression—no embarrassment, no flustered reaction. That quiet strength in his eyes remained untouched, like teasing words bounced off an unshakable wall.“But Darian,” Crimsonlotus continued, voice light and playful, “your taste really is impeccable. Elira Frostveil… honestly, extraordinary. Ice-like skin, jade-like bones, ethereal beauty… tsk tsk—even I, Crimsonlotus, feel my heart stir!”Caelyra’s eyes softened with admiration, recalling the first moment she had seen the girl. Elira Frostveil had stood alone atop North Peak, black hair whipping in the wind, her white dress drifting like mist around her. Her face, a perfect, crystallized work of jade, had shown no smile but radiated gentle softness. Even the most discerning eyes couldn’t help but be captivated.Both Crimsonlotus and Caelyra were renowned beautie

East Peak basked in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Jagged cliffs cast long, stretching shadows across the valley below, painting everything in sharp contrast. Darian Kaelthorn gave Dathric Valen and the others a small nod, then slipped into his modest room. The faint clink of his boots against the stone floor echoed down the corridor, each step deliberate, each step carrying purpose. Time was precious. He wanted to squeeze every last second out of the remaining hours to refine his cultivation.Outside, Dathric Valen lingered, his icy gaze tracking Darian’s retreating form. A flicker of something—helplessness? contemplation?—passed briefly across his usually unreadable face.“Why do I feel like even the shadow of this runner-up from the Battle of the Thousand Realms is about to vanish?” Dathric muttered to himself, voice low, almost a whisper.Crimsonlotus, Caelyra, Xyren Yul, and Selara Quineth couldn’t hold back their laughter. Dathric, the eternal ice sculpture, rarely showed e

The moment Darian Kaelthorn unleashed his second move, the very summit of Central Peak seemed to shudder.Bzzzz!An ancient, almost feral aura surged outward from him. It wasn’t just power—it was a presence, like a beast awakened from eons of slumber, hungry, ferocious, unstoppable. The air warped. Hundreds of zhang in every direction shimmered with a brilliance so intense it looked like celestial meteors raining down, rippling through space.Then, like a beacon of pure, undeniable supremacy, a blazing sun tore through the void. It soared into the heavens, reshaping the world around it. Inside that golden sphere, Darian Kaelthorn sat cross-legged. Calm. Composed. Radiating an aura so overwhelming it could make the sun itself look like a candle.This was the Second Move of the Sun-Moon Martial Classic: Blazing Sun Illuminates the Sky.Two words captured it perfectly: Blazing. Illuminating. The move scorched heaven, cracked the earth, and every pulse seemed to sap vitality from everythi

The summit of Central Peak went utterly still the moment Darian Kaelthorn spoke. Silence fell like a heavy curtain, pressing down on the tens of thousands of disciples gathered there. Even Dathric Valen, standing stiff behind him, felt a chill creep up his spine. Darian’s words… they were audacious. Almost insane.Three moves to defeat King Sereth?The idea was so absurd, so outrageously bold, that laughter exploded across the summit. Eyes that had once regarded him with curiosity now gleamed with mockery.“I thought he had a shot against Elyan… turns out he’s just a fool!” one disciple sneered.“Elyan isn’t weak, but compared to the Three Kings? He’s nothing,” another scoffed.“This is ridiculous. Even with tricks, how could he hope to touch King Sereth?”The laughter rolled like waves, drowning out every trace of awe Darian had earned earlier. And yet, through it all, his face stayed calm. A faint, almost teasing curve of a smile tugged at his lips.Serian Vaelcrest, normally unread