CHAPTER 742: DUKE OF THE GRAECIA EMPIRE

From the skies above, the towering figures of the Superior Legends of the Graecia Empire and the Draconic Sovereigns descended. Their presence alone sent ripples across the fabric of the world.

Unlike the arrogant angel who had previously unleashed his power in every direction in an ostentatious display of strength, these two emanated authority in restraint. Their auras were vast and commanding, yet they remained composed and solemn, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier.

It took mere moments for the two Legends to reach the battlefield, and the force of their arrival shook the air. The moment their eyes swept over the gathered warriors, they found their gaze locking onto their younger kin.

A sharp glint of fury burned in their eyes—not only because the younger Legends had recklessly invaded an unknown world, but because they had the audacity to get captured in the process. It was a disgrace that cut deep.

However, their attention quickly shifted. As if drawn by instinct, their focus turned to the one figure who radiated more presence than any other.

Standing amidst the rest of the Depravitas with unshakable poise, Vlad’s form was monstrous yet noble.

The Superior Legend dragon narrowed his eyes as he studied Vlad. There was something strange about him. His appearance bore the hallmarks of a dragon—yet something was amiss. His bloodline was different, alien even.

The dragon’s eyes drifted momentarily to Fafnir, a more classical embodiment of dragonkind. Though he too carried that strange alien aura that did not seem to belong to the dragon race.

He pondered for a moment before speaking, his voice calm yet carrying unquestionable authority.

"Are you members of the Dragon Race?"

His tone suggested curiosity more than accusation. It was known among the cosmos that dragonkind was not monolithic. Like humanity, they had splintered into countless subgroups, each with unique evolutions, traits, and cultures. It was not unthinkable that these two were dragons from a lineage rarely seen.

Vlad stepped forward. His eyes were steady and voice unwavering as he responded, "We are not dragons. We belong to the Depravita Race."

The Superior Legend dragon paused. The word meant nothing to him—Depravita? It was unfamiliar, and that alone was unsettling. Still, he gave a solemn nod, accepting the answer for now.

Before anyone could speak further, the Superior Legends from the Graecia Empire moved forward. His gaze was intense, especially as it fixed itself upon Vlad. In his eyes shimmered a complex light.

"I am Konstantine, King of the Kylon Family," the man announced. His voice was sharp and clear, resonating with power and authority, though it was laced with the formal respect of one ruler acknowledging another. "With whom am I speaking?"

Vlad returned his gaze without hesitation. "I am Vlad Xaos, ruler of the Xaos Kingdom."

The moment the name left Vlad’s lips, Konstantine’s eyes widened. Light flared within them as the wheels of realization turned rapidly in his mind. For a few seconds, he remained silent, thoughts racing before he finally spoke again.

"May I speak with my grandson?"

His tone had shifted. From respectful and measured, it became cautious and polite. The air changed around them. Even the High Legends and the Superior Legend dragon were caught off guard by the man’s demeanor. It was clear to all that Konstantine knew something the others didn’t, and no one dared to interrupt.

Vlad studied him for a moment, then gave a single nod.

With that, Konstantine turned, his face now hard and cold as stone. "Leandro," he called, his voice like thunder cracking the air.

There was no affection in the way he said the name—only controlled rage.

Leandro, who had been standing among the younger Legends, stepped forward hesitantly. Confusion clouded his face. He didn’t know why his grandfather was so angry, but he dared not delay.

"King Konstantine, I—"

"Did you see a young man with white hair and a small yellow cat?" Konstantine interrupted, his voice sharper than a blade.

Leandro froze. His mind raced. What kind of question was that?

"Yes," he said finally, nervously. "The small yellow cat transformed into a massive serpent and fused with the boy, changing his form entirely."

"BOOM!"

A shockwave shattered the silence as Konstantine moved faster than anyone could follow. His palm slammed into Leandro’s face with such force that the sound of bones cracking echoed through the skies. Leandro’s body flew like a ragdoll, crashing into a nearby mountain, reducing it to rubble.

Gasps rang out.

Konstantine’s eyes were ablaze with fury as he shouted, "Come back. Now."

Nearly a full minute passed before Leandro emerged from the crater. Bloodied and broken, he trembled as he stumbled forward. The pain was immense, but the terror in his heart dwarfed it. He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong—what mistake he had made to provoke this wrath.

The others shared his confusion. Murmurs passed between them, but none dared speak aloud. Then, Konstantine turned toward the young man once more, his voice thundering across the skies like a divine decree.

"How dare you invade the home of a Duke of the Graecia Empire!"

Silence fell like a blade.

Those words pierced the hearts of every Legend present. Horror dawned in their eyes. The Graecia Empire was not merely powerful—it was a cosmic juggernaut, capable of waging war against Heaven, Hell, and even the Abyss without flinching. To provoke them was suicide. To invade the territory of a Duke—one of their most elite lords—was a declaration of war.

And now they realized: Vlad Xaos, this mysterious ruler with immense power... he was no mere sovereign. He was a Duke of the Graecia Empire.

Panic spread like wildfire among the invading Legends. If this revelation were to reach the ears of the Empire’s Emperor, their organizations, alliances, and even worlds might be sacrificed in a desperate bid to appease his wrath. None of them would be spared.

Still, confusion lingered in some hearts. The ascension of a new Duke in the Empire was always a momentous, widely announced affair. Yet none of them had heard of a new Duke in recent times.