Reborn as a Devouring Dragon with a System
Chapter 142: Lifetimes of Pain, Sorrow and Suffering (3)

Chapter 142: Lifetimes of Pain, Sorrow and Suffering (3)

"Who said we’re the ones going on the trip?" Drakion retorted coldly. "You are."

All five of them laughed in unison, their laughter thunderous and malicious as they released their pressure upon him—an overwhelming force that nearly shattered the heavens. It was in that moment Drakion understood the terrifying gulf between the two realms.

He turned his gaze toward Lyla, who was still immersed in her heavenly tribulation, her aura locked in a fierce battle against divine judgment.

He didn’t know who these people were, nor their origins, but he knew one thing with certainty—he had to protect her.

In a burst of speed so intense it caused the heavens to quake, Drakion charged forward like a raging comet, but against these enemies, who were as ancient and overwhelming as mountains, he seemed like a mere child facing an old and cruel world.

In less than a single strike, he was flung backwards, crushed beneath the weight of their might, and he fell to the ground in defeat. Drakion was stunned—not by the pain, but by the sheer, unbearable difference between his strength and theirs.

He gritted his teeth, his gaze once again locking on Lyla, and in that moment, his eyes burned with determination. He clenched his fists, his body pulsing violently, and then—like a dam bursting—he unleashed the sealed power within him. His strength skyrocketed, rising to a level that startled even the enemies before him.

They frowned as they sensed the explosive change, and one of them mocked, "All this... just for a woman?"

Drakion said nothing in return. He didn’t need to. His actions were his answer.

He lunged at them again, ferocious and relentless, but as he clashed with the five of them, he realized that even with his released strength, he couldn’t defeat them all at once. He gritted his teeth harder as frustration boiled within.

Then, in a flash, his aura surged even higher—wild, unstable, and consuming.

"Hmph, you’re just hastening your own death," one of them scoffed, their expressions filled with contempt.

"That’s no problem," Drakion said, his voice now cold as death. "As long as I protect her. She’s the one who gave me life, and I vowed to protect her with every breath I take."

"Then die with her!" they roared, launching toward him with fury.

The battle that followed tore apart the skies—clouds shredded, space itself trembling—and though Drakion fought like a mad god, the wounds he received were unbearable, his entire body soaked in blood, torn and battered, but still he stood, still he resisted, his heart refusing to yield, driven by the sole thought of guarding Lyla until her tribulation ended.

Before the group could realize it, a radiant explosion of divine light burst forth—Lyla had completed her tribulation.

But the moment she descended, her heart froze as her eyes found Drakion—bloodied, broken, collapsed—his life hanging by a thread.

Rage, sorrow, and despair erupted from within her. Her power flared in a volatile surge, and with a single wave of her hand, an unimaginable cold swept through the battlefield, freezing the five enemies in an instant—then shattering them into fragments of ice and ash.

Drakion smiled weakly when he saw this, though blood spilled from his lips. "It seems... one really can’t underestimate a god."

Lyla, eyes wide and shimmering with tears, already understood what had happened. She saw it all—she saw that Drakion had used his very essence in the battle.

"Why did you do this...?" she asked, her voice trembling. Nothing escaped her divine sight—she knew he had sacrificed more than blood.

"Don’t cry," Drakion whispered, a faint smile still lingering on his lips. "You gave me life... now I’m simply giving it back."

And with that, his body began to change, his form reverting into what it once was—stone.

"Do you... remember me?" he asked faintly.

Lyla’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the stone. Something deep within her soul stirred—a fragment of memory, a voice, a warmth long forgotten—and then, in that instant, everything came rushing back.

"Why...?" she whispered.

"It’s good... that you remember me..." Drakion said softly.

And then, silence.

The stone lost all trace of life, and Lyla fell to her knees, devastated. Her soul cracked as grief consumed her entirely.

She wept for seven days and seven nights, unable to leave the stone’s side, and when her tears finally dried, her sorrow transformed into cold resolution.

She looked above her, eyes burning with sorrow and fury, and in that haunting silence, she vowed to take revenge for him—not out of rage, but out of the love that had been torn away from her—and before she set forth on that path drenched in blood and vengeance, she made sure to bury the stone that had once been him, granting it a grand burial, one worthy of the soul it once carried, a resting place carved in reverence and sealed in pain.

She had already guessed it—the reason he never told her, the fear in his heart that being born from a stone would make her look at him with disgust, would make her abandon him, cast him aside like an anomaly unworthy of her warmth.

"You... fool," she muttered, her voice broken by tears that slid down her cheeks like rain on frozen glass, "there was never a moment I would have abandoned you... no matter what you were, no matter where you came from."

After grieving for endless days, something inside her shattered and twisted into something else entirely; her once warm eyes had now turned frigid, devoid of emotion, filled only with purpose as she raised her gaze to the heavens, her body radiating such overwhelming killing intent that the very air around her trembled in fear—and with that, she ascended.

Years passed like fleeting shadows across an eternal sky, and during that time, she became a relentless storm, a divine reaper of justice, hunting down every single power, every force, every being involved in trying to prevent her ascension, annihilating them one after another, erasing their existence as though the world itself had rejected their memory, until there was nothing left but silence and the echo of her vengeance.

Then, finally, she returned to the spot where the lifeless stone remained, still as ever. Her heart ached with unbearable heaviness, and with eyes closed and a final breath drawn, she committed suicide beside the stone, her divine body withering as it curled around the one she had lost.