Dungeon King: A Lady Knight Offered by My Goblins



The dragon's roar, like a deafening bolt of lightning, tore through the deadly silence of the temple. 

It was a sound indescribable in words, as if a call from the ancient past, filled with power and majesty. 

Fernard felt an extreme pressure, turning his gaze towards Ethan.

Ethan, standing in place and only about one meter eighty in height, appeared imposingly large. 

His figure seemed as majestic as a mountain, his wings capable of obscuring the sky when spread. 

His eyes twinkled with a piercing cold light, surveying everything in the world.

The dragon's roar contained endless power, capable of awakening the dormant earth and stirring fierce winds and storms. 

Under its influence, all things trembled as if paying homage to some mysterious existence.

Fernard's hands trembled uncontrollably, and he quickly looked at his right hand. 

It wasn't him shaking, but the Dragonblade, trembling so much that his entire body vibrated along with it. 

The light of the Dragonblade became chaotic and dim, resembling a frightened rabbit hearing thunder, shivering incessantly in its burrow.

Deep fear was evident in Fernard's eyes. 

The Dragonblade seemed to be frightened by the man before it. 

Fernard's complexion was as pale as paper, his eyes filled with fear and unease. 

His brow was furrowed, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat, as if he was under immense pressure. 

His lips were tightly closed, not uttering a word, yet his body shook uncontrollably, as if deeply frightened by something.

The Dragonblade was a divine artifact! 

How could it possibly be scared by a person? 

That seemed like a ludicrous fantasy. 

Yet, the only thought in Fernard's mind was clear: This man before him was undefeatable.

His hands were clenched tightly into fists, the knuckles whitening from the intense grip. 

His legs trembled slightly, as if they might give way at any moment. 

His body was taut, like a startled wild animal ready to flee at any second.

"I must run," he thought. "If I continue to fight, I might truly be killed."

A storm seemed to rage in Fernard's mind.

Dragonblade was his only reliance now. 

As for Grip of the Underworld, it was nowhere near him. Nor would it heed his call.

Fernard's eyes darted around frantically, as if searching for something to cling to for support. 

His facial expressions shifted constantly – now terror, now pain, now despair... 

His body shook uncontrollably, as if experiencing an inescapable horror.

...

In the dark space,

Bogart floated beside the eye of Sheimodo.

Observing the scene in the "Light Mirror," Bogart's lips curled slightly downwards, his voice cold:

"Fernard is indeed nothing but a facade, scared out of his wits. This battle should end now."

"Ethan's victory is well-deserved."

Sheimodo's eyes were massive, like sinkholes, and seemed to strain even with a slight movement:

"Ethan possessing the Dragon Bloodline is not a good sign."

Bogart looked astonished, glancing at Sheimodo's "sinkhole":

"You chose him as the trialist of the god yourself, and now you regret it? I won't allow that. Haven't you seen his talent? In just two years' time, and by the time scale of the library, he's already mastered the WraithForbidden Spell."

But even by the library's time scale, it was enough to be alarming.

Sheimodo's eyes flickered, stirring a fierce wind: "I'm not saying it outright, but surely the Dragon clan will come looking. What will you do then?"

"This..." Bogart fell into deep thought. The Dragon clan's days were tough, their Bloodline rare due to deity hunts. Few dragons could become deities. If the Dragon clan discovered Ethan's existence, those ancient dragons might come forth in full force to welcome Ethan back, hailing him as the son of dragon.

"No matter what," Bogart gritted his teeth, "Ethan must inherit the legacy of our Wraith Cult. If the Dragon clan causes trouble, hmm..."

Bogart hummed coldly, leaving his sentence unfinished. Yet the ferocity in his eyes was unmistakable.

The Wraith Cult never feared a fight!

As many as the Wraiths, so were the enforcers of the Wraith Cult!

Sheimodo remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly; "My wounds are grave; I may not be able to protect Ethan as his guardian. His growth needs your vigilance."I think you should take a look at

Bogart wanted to ask Sheimodo about his injuries. But seeing Sheimodo's face that clearly said 'I won't tell,' he refrained from asking. "I understand."

"If you encounter matters beyond your handling, awaken me. I still possess some residual strength..." Sheimodo's tone was ancient, his speech somewhat weak.

"Alright." Bogart sighed softly, having no choice but to agree.

Glancing again at the "Light Mirror," his eyes twinkled slightly, he exclaimed in surprise: "This man really is lucky, even possessing the scroll of the God of Space."

...

On the dark golden arena, the Dragonblade, upon hearing the dragon's roar, weakened and its light faded, falling onto the arena floor. 

The blade relinquishing its hold was a clear sign to Fernard that his cause was lost.

His eyes darting, Fernard pulled out a scroll from his possession: "I will remember your face, and one day, you will pay the price."

The moment Ethan saw the scroll, he knew it was something extraordinary. 

Its appearance seemed ordinary, yet it exuded a sense of containing endless mysteries. 

The scroll, about a meter long and thirty centimeters wide, was made of dark brown sheepskin, its surface bearing the marks of time as if it had witnessed countless historical changes.

The scroll's edges were adorned with golden lines that shimmered brilliantly, emanating a mysterious aura. 

At its center was an exquisite painting depicting a vast expanse of the cosmos, with twinkling stars and flowing galaxies.

In this starry sky, there was a gigantic planet radiating dazzling light, like the brightest pearl in the night sky. 

Surrounding the planet were numerous smaller planets and comets, dancing elegantly in the cosmos, forming a beautiful tapestry.

Ethan, having some knowledge of the power of space, recognized at first glance that this scroll was likely a space scroll. 

The celestial bodies depicted were the main components of a Space Magic Circle.

"Other than the God of Space, who else could create a Space Magic Circle using planets?" Ethan murmured to himself, utterly astounded.

Below the painting, there was a line of ancient text, resembling divine script and difficult to decipher. 

However, as Ethan gazed at these words, he could feel a powerful force emanating from them, as if they were narrating a story about the universe.

With a pained expression in his eyes, Fernard bit his lip, then resolutely chanted: "Portal through time and space, open the journey unknown, by my name I summon thee, the power of endless stars. Now, let us traverse this boundless universe together, seeking the secrets hidden in the cosmic sea."

As Fernard recited the incantation, the celestial bodies within the scroll began to swirl around him. 

Ethan, sensing danger, attempted to flee. 

Raising his spear and gathering all his strength, he hurled it towards Fernard, hoping to interrupt him.

However, the spell was already complete, and the surrounding air grew intensely hot, as if an invisible force was converging. 

The spear was stuck mid-air, unable to advance further. Then, a dazzling light descended from the sky, enveloping the entire space.

Within this light, countless twinkling stars could be seen, adorning the night sky like a myriad of sparkling gems, beautiful and mysterious. 

Fernard, bathed in the starlight, glowed with a white radiance. 

But his eyes were blood-red, his face filled with malevolence: "You've stolen my Supreme Deity inheritance, something unprecedented."

"Next time we meet, I'll have you quartered!" he threatened. Then, Fernard's figure began to gradually dissipate.

Ethan knew letting Fernard escape was like releasing a tiger back to the mountain. 

His Golden Divine Dragon Blood surged within him, golden scales appearing around his body. 

He leaped towards Fernard, reaching out to grab him.

Fernard's eyes showed a hint of mockery, but in the next second, Ethan had caught his hand. "How can you grab me?" 

Fernard's eyes widened in shock, his screams frantic, "Let me go, let me leave. Get away!"

Perhaps Fernard's frantic screams had an effect, as the halo of stars quickly enveloped his body. 

Ethan, determined, tightened his grip on Fernard's fingers. 

Unfortunately, the light in front of Fernard dissipated, and he was completely whisked away by the space scroll.

Ethan's mouth twitched slightly, expressing his helplessness: "I'm still too weak to disrupt a Space Magic Circle."

However, he soon looked down at his palm. 

In his hand lay a ring emitting a silver glow, simple yet engraved with intricate and dense patterns. 

Ethan's eyes lit up, and a smile crept across his lips: "This must be a Space Ring, not a bad exchange after all."

At that moment, the dark golden arena began to transform. 

The surrounding dark golden barriers gradually converged into a flow like water, moving towards Ethan. 

With an inspired intuition, Ethan extended his hand. 

The dark golden stream slowly flowed into his palm. 

The etched golden skull mark in his hand once again brightened, shining exceptionally.

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