The Almighty Dragon General

Chapter 7591



The sudden event frightened the powerhouses and senior authorities of the Doom Race, who fell to their knees, desperately begging for mercy. Wyot showed no compassion. Wielding the Chaos Honlarne Sword with incredible speed, his strikes swept through the battlefield, decapitating his enemies.

The senior authorities of the Doom Race, the Lords of fifty-three universes, and about eighty Great Elders perished. Their headless corpses exploded, their golden bodies disintegrating.

Snow swirled into fog as the remains of the dead scattered like ash. The Lords and Heavenly Paths of the Doom Plane, lined up on the plaza, held their breaths in terror.

Witnessing this massacre, Thea shivered. "He actually killed them all. It's not right."

"It is right," James said, looking at Thea. "I won."

"That's not the point." Thea rolled her eyes. "He killed all these living beings and left not one trusted lieutenant. The Doom Race..."

James interrupted, "They say Wyot is a fool, but he isn't. He just cares too much about his loved ones.

"We've talked about the Greater Realms and the sweeping reform it needs. To Wyot, the Doom Race has established too many bad habits. They need drastic changes if they want a fresh start.

"Wyot is a powerhouse, though he sometimes acts like an oaf. However, with adequate training, he can awaken his talent for rulership."

Thea inhaled sharply. "That's why you and Xezal valued him so much? That's why you pushed him so hard?"

"Yes," James nodded. "To be honest, Wyot is a much better leader for the Jademora Empire than Truett. He's born to be an administrator, while Truett is a born warrior."This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

"That's cruel." Thea shook her head. "Men..."

"The battle is over." James held Thea's hand. "We should let him reorganize the Doom Race's hierarchy now."

"Where are we going now?" Thea asked, surprised.

A little annoyed, James replied, "Time for you to keep your word."

"Hey, no!" Thea struggled. "I didn't say yes! Can I take it back? Can I not do it? Hey, at least give me some time to prepare!"

She was dragged away.

Under Wyot's iron fist, the Doom Race's hierarchy and rules were reshaped. New Saints were chosen, and positions were filled.

The Doom Race was reborn, rising to meteoric prominence. For many years, they were dubbed the strongest and most battle-thirsty race in the Greater Realms.

In the void beyond Chaos Temple, Quattro stood before a glimmering chair, his eyes wide like saucers. He looked like he had been through a nightmare.

Behind him, an armored male quickly said, "Marshal, perhaps you should be seated for this?"

Quattro wayed him off without

turning around, inhaling stiffly. "Don't

call me that. A new Doom Race will

rise to prominence. We'll have to

bust our *sses if the Dark World is to

command them."

Quattro shook his cape and turned. "Heed my order. Besides the Doom Race, all sects, orthodoxies, and legions, including my Sixteen Guards, will participate in a Grand Tournament!

"Take half of the Divine Tools and transcendent Divine Tools from my abode's treasury! They shall be the rewards for this Grand Tournament! I want the Dark World's living beings excited to join!

"There is only one rule for this Grand Tournament! Might makes right! The strong make the rules! Anyone who makes it through the selection will become part of the Dark World's strongest legion!"

Quattro stepped forward, hands behind his back. "There shall be no name for this Great Army until they have proven themselves in battle! Only then will I beseech His Majesty for a name!"