Reborn as a Devouring Dragon with a System-Chapter 82: Crossing the Dragon Bridge

Drakion continued his journey westward, his steps steady and unhurried, until his path was abruptly halted by a vast river that cleaved the land in two. A crowd had gathered at the water’s edge, yet the number of people had been halved compared to those who had initially entered the dragon ruins.

It seemed the beasts of these ruins were far more formidable than they’d appeared. Drakion had yet to clash with any of them—his overwhelming Draconic aura had been more than enough to silence threats before they could act.

As Drakion scanned the area, he spotted members of the Vorr Clan standing apart from the rest, isolated and heavily watched. Eyes clung to them like shadows, and the air buzzed with tension.

He strode forward through the murmuring crowd, whispers trailing behind him like restless spirits. Many were stunned by his unexpected appearance.

When he reached the Vorr group, his brow furrowed—Stryx, Kaidros, and Zephyr were nowhere in sight. A faint unease prickled at his spine. He asked the others if they’d seen them. One by one, they shook their heads.

Drakion’s gaze sharpened as he activated the Devouring Eye, scanning the crowd like a predator in search of its kin. But still—nothing.

After a moment of thought, he reasoned that Stryx and Zephyr were likely with Kaidros. And if that were the case, they were in capable hands.

"So, why’s everyone gathered here?" Drakion asked at last, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation.

"Master," Finn stepped forward, pointing, "there’s a bridge that connects to the other side."

Drakion looked ahead and indeed saw it—a magnificent golden bridge stretching across the river, shimmering under the dim sky.

"Why is no one crossing it?" he asked again, eyes narrowing.

"There’s an intense Draconic pressure on the bridge," Finn explained, his expression dark. "It crushes anyone who attempts to pass. If you’re weak, you’re flattened under its weight."

Drakion stroked his chin and nodded slowly. "And the river itself? I assume it’s even more dangerous than the bridge?"

"Yes, Master. Anyone who enters the river is swallowed by a whirlpool... and never seen again."

Drakion absorbed this information with a thoughtful hum, turning his eyes back to the radiant bridge.

"Since it’s a bridge infused with Draconic aura, then it’s just a piece of cake for us," he declared with a grin, stepping forward confidently.

Just then, a voice blocked his path.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Drakion looked ahead to see a group of individuals standing in their way. Though they wore human forms, the feral aura that clung to them was unmistakable—they were beasts, barely concealed by their outer shells. Only higher levels of cultivation or ancient bloodlines could suppress such raw primal essence.

"As you can see, we’re crossing the bridge," Finn stepped forward, his tone hardening with irritation.

"You think you can just cross like that?" A young man with rough brown hair and a wild, untamed presence stepped up, clearly the leader. "Each of you must pay a low-grade spirit stone. Or you’ll regret it."

His smirk was sharp. "And that’s the price per head."

Drakion stepped forward, his eyes gleaming. "And I’m here to tell you we’re not paying a single stone. There’s no sign, no seal, no mark that declares you the owner of the bridge."

His words hit like thunder. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

The beast’s smirk wavered, his expression turning cold. "Then it seems... you don’t want to go over the bridge."

"Oh, but I will cross. Are you planning to stop me?" Drakion’s foot tapped the ground with a soft thud, releasing a wave of oppressive killing intent.

The air chilled. A suffocating silence followed.

The beasts around them shuddered involuntarily. Drakion’s golden eyes flared with crimson hues, glowing like molten embers beneath ash.

"Don’t think you can scare us off, right guys?" the brown-haired leader scoffed and turned to rally his group—

—but found only empty space behind him.

Every one of his companions had fled.

Alone now, his confidence shattered. A strained smile crept onto his face before he, too, spun on his heel and bolted.

The onlookers sighed, shaking their heads at the pathetic display. But despite the comical retreat, a dark undercurrent still lingered. Malicious eyes remained fixed on Drakion and the Vorr Clan—watchful, waiting, deadly.

The onlookers shook their heads in disbelief at what had just transpired, but the malicious, bloodthirsty eyes among them remained—locked onto Drakion and his companions with unwavering hostility.

Drakion turned his gaze to the golden bridge, its radiant light gleaming like molten sunfire. With calm resolve, he took a step forward and set foot upon it.

As he entered the bridge, an oppressive aura began to descend—but strangely, he felt nothing pressing against his body. It was the same for the others in his group; they walked onward, untouched and unaffected.

When the onlookers witnessed this, their jaws slackened in shock. Some rubbed their eyes, thinking it was a hallucination—yet it was real. It was happening right before them.

A few, stunned and mystified, stepped forward to try their luck. But in the next breath, chaos followed—some ran back screaming, unable to bear the pressure, while others collapsed under its crushing force, their bodies flattened by the overwhelming Draconic weight.

The rest of the crowd, those who hadn’t dared move, frowned deeply as they watched Drakion and his group disappear further along the bridge, already fading beyond the limits of their vision.

They were baffled. Staggered. Confused beyond words.

Drakion and his group had passed directly beneath their noses—calmly, effortlessly—defying the bridge that had crushed so many others.

A few in the crowd now seethed with regret. If only they had banded together earlier... perhaps they could have discovered the secret that allowed him to cross unscathed.

Unaware of the chaos and stunned murmurs left in his wake, Drakion continued forward. To him and his companions, the bridge had proven surprisingly easy to navigate, and soon, they reached its end.

But what awaited them was something entirely different.

On the far side, the bridge vanished into an eerie, swirling mist—dense, unnatural, and impenetrable. It cloaked everything beyond in an ominous veil, concealing whatever secrets or horrors lay ahead.

Yet even as they stood at the edge, others in the distance were already fantasizing—believing that beyond the mist lay riches unimaginable, treasures capable of rewriting their fate.

But when Drakion beheld what loomed before him within that mist—his heart froze.

A flicker of raw, dreadful emotion passed through his eyes.

He was shocked... and devastated—utterly—by what he saw to the extent...