Reborn as a Devouring Dragon with a System-Chapter 73: Dragon Ruins: Key to The Dragon Ruins (3)

In the innermost and deepest part of the Bestial Forest, at its very heart, one could feel countless Auras—powerful and ancient—so overwhelming that the very air trembled beneath their weight. The tension was palpable, so intense it seemed the atmosphere might rupture at any moment.

Beasts roamed in droves, and shockingly, most bore traces of Draconic lineage—serpentine, lizard-like, and more—each pulsing faintly with a whisper of dragon’s blood.

On the fringes of this gathering, humans stood watchful, their eyes sharp. Other races had also gathered—among them, tall figures with pointed ears and green hair, unmistakably Elven. And in the shadowed recesses of the forest, cloaked figures of unknown origin observed in silence.

They all stood before a cave, from which a low, rhythmic Draconic roar echoed every few seconds, faint yet filled with a haunting resonance.

It was the search for this very roar—first heard over a year ago—that had led them to this place. Humans had discovered the location first, but news of it spread quickly, and of course, it couldn’t be kept from the other races. What shocked them all... was the truth:

This was a Dragon Ruin.

A powerful formation cloaked the cave’s entrance, barring all attempts to enter. It had taken six relentless months to even weaken the outermost layer. And yet, despite all their efforts, something critical was still missing—a key, the one true means of unlocking the ruin.

They had exhausted every method imaginable. Every relic and artifact related to Dragons had been tested. Yet nothing worked. If they tried to force their way in, the entire ruin would collapse into nothingness.

It was then that Drakion and his group arrived, concealed in the shadows. But with Emperor-level Cultivators present, their arrival did not go unnoticed.

Drakion’s sharp gaze swept across the crowd. His eyes caught the distinctive features of unique races—and when he saw the Elves, no explanation was needed. Their beauty and elegance were unmistakable.

Authors didn’t lie. Each one was striking—handsome or breathtakingly pretty—though of course, even beauty had its hierarchy.

What truly surprised Drakion, however, was the presence of Emperor-level beings among the crowd. Without delay, he summoned the Quin Summoning Card, readying it in case chaos erupted.

His eyes narrowed as he spotted the Ancestor of the Ignis Clan, standing tall and imposing. Beside him stood Leo, expression steeped in arrogance.

But then—Drakion’s attention snapped downward.

The scale in his hand began to burn, light flaring wildly, writhing as though desperate to burst free—to fly straight into the cave.

Drakion immediately pressed his aura upon it, a firm, commanding presence.

The scale stilled... calmed... obeyed.

The hunger had been silenced—for now.

"Everyone, including those in the shadows—bring out whatever you possess that is related to dragons. We need the key to enter the cave, though we do not yet know what it is," someone among the Emperor-level figures commanded, his voice echoing with aged authority.

He was an old man, his hair and eyes a piercing frosty blue, his gaze sweeping the gathering like a winter storm.

When Drakion heard this, he felt a stir of surprise. They needed a key to access the ruins, and immediately his thoughts returned to the dragon scale—its strange, restless behavior. Something wasn’t right.

His eyes followed as figures emerged from the dark, answering the call. Among them, he spotted one with blood-red hair, crimson eyes, and protruding fangs—clearly a member of the Blood Race Kaidros once spoke of.

There were others too—those who looked human but radiated an unfamiliar and ancient aura. Drakion gave a subtle command, and his companions stepped forth from the shadows, revealing themselves to the gathering.

The moment they emerged, all eyes turned to them. The Ancestor of the Ignis Clan wore a knowing smile, while Leo Ignis stared with furious disbelief. His pride had been wounded—defeated by an unknown presence. He, the young master of the Ignis Clan, the greatest talent since their ancestral days, boasting a staggering eighty percent bloodline concentration—the highest seen in millennia—now found himself overshadowed.

"Aren’t those people... related to dragons?"

"If they’re here, then the Dragon Ruin must be real."

"Bold of them to appear so openly before Emperor-level figures."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Drakion and his group stepped into the light. All eyes converged on Drakion, who clearly led them. He had deliberately released his aura—revealing himself to be at the Origin King Realm.

"Hmph. I wonder what someone as weak as you is doing in a place like this," a scoffing voice rose from the crowd. The stronger cultivators whispered among themselves, but Drakion paid them no mind.

He simply observed as people began placing their dragon-related items before the cave—each one trying to awaken the key. But one by one, they failed.

The Dragon Scale in Drakion’s possession flared suddenly, surging with urgency as if yearning to break free. Drakion suppressed it firmly, holding it in check.

"Your instincts are correct. You possess the key. The Dragon Scale... is the key."

Drax’s voice echoed within his mind, confirming the truth. Drakion turned toward the crowd, eyes steady, voice unwavering.

"I have the key."

His declaration fell like thunder.

The crowd stilled. Silence clung to the air like fog.

"Hmph. And how do we know you’re telling the truth?" someone challenged, their voice brimming with skepticism. Others murmured their agreement.

Drakion merely chuckled, unbothered. With a simple motion, he revealed the Dragon Scale—its golden light blazing forth. The moment it appeared, the cave began to glow, pulsing in harmony with the scale’s presence.

The crowd gasped. Silence returned, this time laced with awe. Their eyes couldn’t deny what they saw.

The Emperor-level figures stirred, satisfaction glinting in their expressions.

"You may bring it forward," they ordered.

But Drakion only smiled.

"I don’t think so," he said coolly. "We haven’t negotiated. Or do you expect me to just hand it over? I could simply walk in there... with my people."

His words rang out, bold and unflinching.

The crowd fell into hushed tension. Several of the Emperor-level figures frowned, their expressions growing cold and unreadable.

The air, once tense, was now on the brink of eruption.