Chapter 179-3: Revival of the Ancient Bloodline — Bronze Cyclops (Part 3)

Words : 1241 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Kosso, fueled by rage over his fallen clansmen, ignored the searing agony. He had only one thought. To kill this damn human warrior!! Grote, a Northern Warrior, forged by a soul of unyielding courage, was equally unwavering. Having activated the Northern Bloodline, his body’s formidable regenerative power gave him the capital and confidence to endure everything. His right fist continued hammering at the thickened armor protecting Kosso’s chest, spiderweb cracks spreading further with each strike. Two minutes later. Kosso’s black armor, baked under thousands of degrees of heat, had turned crimson and begun to melt. Even the Cyclops’s thick, magic-resistant, gray-white skin could not withstand the infernal temperature and was badly burned. The agony of being roasted alive at such a high temperature was unimaginable. "ROAAAAARRRR~~~" Kosso roared in fury, but he could feel that the damn human warrior he was holding still had fight left in him. Even though Kosso felt his own condition deteriorating rapidly—knowing that at most, he could only last another three to five minutes before the high temperatures killed him—he still refused to let go. For Master Kachar. For Dawn City! The brutality buried in his bloodline was awakened by the excruciating pain. Kosso was now utterly fearless. That massive single eye was shut tight, his actions running purely on instinct as he clung with all his strength to that damned human. The flames still raged, endless flames. In Grote's eyes, no other color remained, every breath scorched his lungs and throat, and every injury was rapidly healed by the power of his bloodline. Yet the damned Cyclops behind him still refused to let go. No matter how powerful his strikes, the enemy showed no fear. Twenty seconds ago, Grote had already ceased attacking, because he felt the Cyclops’s armor had turned red-hot. Death was inevitable. Yet Grote remained fearless. He was waiting—for the moment the Cyclops died. He believed victory would eventually belong to him. Three minutes passed. Kosso’s armor had completely melted into bubbling molten iron. Kosso's will was now close to numbness, he could no longer even feel pain. Every cell, every patch of skin in his body, was screaming agony, but the cumulative suffering had surpassed what his brain could process. Kosso only felt his life slipping away rapidly. He was dying. The moment this thought appeared, memories flashed through his mind— His birth in the Thunder Tribe, his growth through countless hunts, awakening intelligence upon coming of age, failing to defeat his elder brother during the tribal chieftain's succession battle, and being forced to leave his home. The hunger and confusion, Kosso still remembered that feeling clearly. But everything changed when he inadvertently arrived at the surface. Though defeated by the Vampires, he was unexpectedly welcomed into Dawn City and became one of its members. Here, there was no killing. No fear of venomous Magical Beasts emerging from the swamps to claim his life. No need to wander for food daily. No fear of starvation. Here, they were respected and revered by humans. Here, he lived a life he had never dreamed of, felt a safety and happiness he had never known. And now. Now was the time for him to contribute to Dawn City. He often enjoyed attending the ideological lectures at City Hall. There, he had heard, Lord Kachar was the great being who had given them everything. Every resident of Dawn City should fulfill Lord Kachar’s commands as their glory. Every resident should make contributions to Dawn City. Once, he had fought for the Thunder Tribe. Now, he would fight for Dawn City. Right now, in the center of the flames, a change that no one could foresee was happening. Because of the unwavering belief in his heart, Kosso’s life force, instead of extinguishing, slowly stabilized. Under the furious incineration of thousands of degrees of heat, mysterious changes began to occur within his bloodline. The molten armor flowed into his body, and instead of destroying him, the high-temperature molten iron, under the mysterious power of his bloodline, slowly fused with his skin and bones. The pain was even more excruciating, but Kosso was numb now; he no longer felt his body changing. All he knew was to exhaust all his strength to restrain the human warrior in his arms. Meanwhile, Grote’s attacks had also slowed. He saw the molten iron steadily corroding the Cyclops beneath him. After using his bloodline power at high frequency, although he had not yet reached the twenty-minute automatic deactivation limit, he was already reaching his physical limits. If not for the activation of the Fearlessness trait, granting him Extreme Will—a transcendent warrior’s hallmark, mitigating a significant portion of the magical damage through sheer resilience, he would likely have already died many times over. Even so, Grote’s eyes were beginning to dim. He could feel it—he was dying. Perhaps he would perish together with the Cyclops. At this moment, a memory surfaced, the Northern Valkyrie he had fought to protect. A bitter smile crept onto Grote’s lips. As a seasoned warrior who had survived countless hardships, he knew never to make rookie mistakes. If he had rushed to defend the royal bloodline of the North at the start, he would have died long ago. Only by drawing the enemy's attention to himself, could the other Northern Warriors have any chance of escaping with the Northern Valkyrie. "So, in the end, will the glory of the North be buried by my hands...?" Grote’s eyes were filled with darkness. He had personally entrusted the symbol of Northern honor—the horn of the Northern Dragon Rhino—to another. Later, he had even traded away his treasured Mithril Armor for the blood of the Golden Race, forcing himself to activate his bloodline prematurely for this battle. If he hadn’t fallen for the Undead Mage’s trap, perhaps a sliver of the North’s bloodline could have been preserved. But without royal leadership, what was the point of preserving the bloodline? Grote slowly closed his eyes. This Northern Warrior, who had never known fear or retreat, had accepted the arrival of his death. Yet at that moment. Grote's eyes snapped open wide, a look of disbelief overtaking his face as he stared at the Cyclops restraining him. A powerful, boundless vitality was surging back to life within Kosso. Thump thump. Thump thump. The massive heart beat like muffled thunder. In Grote's stunned gaze, the molten iron steadily fused into the Cyclops’s body. It was as if the bubbling molten iron was mere spring water. The melted armor became part of the Cyclops. The scorched, wrinkled skin began to recover, taking on a gray-white hue with a faint bronze luster, a metallic sheen that radiated an unshakable, formidable sense of defense. At a glance, one could feel the tremendous resilience it carried. Grote instinctively knew, if he were to attack now, even leaping from the sky, he would no longer be able to wound the Cyclops as he had before. Powerful, mysterious, terrifying. The gravely weakened Grote could only watch this powerful lifeform slowly awaken, his gaze filled with complicated emotions. The mighty Northern Warrior closed his eyes slowly, waiting for death to come. He was too exhausted. Meanwhile, outside the sea of fire. Li De’s eyes opened wide in shock. [Ding~ Cyclops Lord Kosso Thunder has triggered a bloodline evolution. Ancient Giant Bloodline activation detected. Special evolution condition met. Successfully evolved into a Bronze Cyclops.]

Chapter 179-3: Revival of the Ancient Bloodline — Bronze Cyclops (Part 3)

Comments (0)