An Understated Dominance Novel (Dahlia & Dustin) by Marina Vittori updated 2025-26 - An Understated Dominance Chapter 2422

Chapter 2422

Lennox’s devastating attack cleared the battlefield in an instant.

The warriors who had charged forward were either dead or gravely injured, powerless to resist.

“This… How is this possible?!” Tyson exclaimed, his eyelids twitching as cold sweat streamed down his face.

The seal formation had drastically weakened even master-level warriors, preventing them from unleashing their full strength. Yet, Lennox had harnessed the power of a single pot of wine to unleash abilities far beyond his cultivation level.

Though he was merely at the master level, his “Wander Through the Eight Wastelands” technique carried the destructive might of a grandmaster. If he unleashed such power again, everyone—including Tyson—would face certain death.

“Retreat!”

Taking a deep breath, Lennox reabsorbed the thousands of phantoms into his body. His face flushed red, then turned pale, and his breathing became labored.

It was clear that executing the “Wander Through the Eight Wastelands” move had drained him. With his cultivation restricted by the seal, he could only manage it once.

The battlefield was now sparsely populated. Apart from Tyson and six black-robed men, only a handful of warriors remained, most of them too terrified to continue fighting.

The six black-robed men, the strongest of the group, were fully occupied battling Dustin, leaving them unable to provide support. Among the remaining fighters, only Tyson posed a real threat, while the others stayed back, paralyzed with fear.

“Tyson, if you value your life, leave now. Otherwise, you’ll end up like these corpses,” Lennox warned coldly.

Though his energy was nearly depleted, Lennox hoped his threat would scare the enemy into retreat. A prolonged battle was no longer in his favor.

“Master Houle, what should we do? Should we retreat for now?” Damien asked nervously, clutching his injured chest.

Their forces had been reduced from hundreds to barely a dozen. He lacked the courage to continue.

“What are you panicking about?” Tyson snapped, glaring at Lennox. “He just forced himself to use his powers. Look at him now—he’s spent. If he could press his advantage, he wouldn’t waste time threatening us!”

“That may be true,” Damien replied hesitantly, “but most of our men are dead. We won’t gain anything if we keep fighting. Maybe we should retreat and plan our next move.”

“Plan our next move? Are you insane?!” Tyson roared, slapping Damien hard across the face. “If we fail this mission, we’ll die anyway. Anyone who retreats will face certain death!”

Tyson knew he had no choice. Retreating now would mean execution at the hands of Lord Bailey. Better to die fighting than to be branded a deserter.

Determined, Tyson pulled out two tubes of strengthening potion, tossing one to Damien. “Drink it. It’ll boost your physical strength and combat ability. I earned these through countless battles—don’t waste it!”

“Thank you, Master Houle!” Damien said, his face lighting up with newfound hope.

The strengthening potion in his hands was an S-grade serum, leagues above the A-grade one he had used before. With its power, he regained his confidence.

“If we don’t succeed today, we die. So let’s give it everything we’ve got!” Tyson declared.

Without hesitation, he drank the potion in one gulp. Though taking a second dose in quick succession was dangerous and could lead to death, Tyson had no time to worry about the risks.

There were only two outcomes: kill or be killed.

“Charge!” Tyson roared, feeling the surge of power coursing through him. With his blade in hand, he rushed forward, ready to fight to the death.

Outside the Sacred Wyrm Summit Hall

Meanwhile, hundreds of elite warriors were relentlessly assaulting the mountain’s protective barrier. Explosions echoed across the area as the shield grew weaker with each attack.

Inside the hall, the Sacred Wyrm Summit’s masters stood ready for battle.

“Brother, the mountain protection barrier won’t hold much longer—it’ll collapse in less than one stick of incense!” Orion Foster reported as he hurried into the hall.

“No matter,” Katy Foster replied calmly. “Let them in. Order the disciples to form twelve small formations. Once they breach the barrier, we’ll turn defense into offense and make sure none of them leave alive.”

“Yes!” Orion answered, quickly relaying the orders.

Moments later, the protective barrier vanished.

Without hesitation, the Pantheon’s forces stormed through the main gate, their battle cries shaking the air.

“Kill the demons!”

“Slay them!”

The Sacred Wyrm Summit disciples were prepared. Hundreds of warriors formed tight formations, launching a coordinated counterattack.

The clash was brutal. Explosions, screams, and the sound of clashing steel filled the battlefield as the first large-scale confrontation erupted.

Atop Sacred Wyrm Summit

On the roof of a nearby building, Bear King Bailey stood quietly, watching the chaos unfold.

He had no intention of joining the fight just yet. His goal wasn’t merely to destroy Sacred Wyrm Summit—it was to eliminate Arion Foyer, Dragonmarsh’s strongest martial artist and the greatest threat to the Western world.

If Arion Foyer fell, Dragonmarsh would descend into chaos.

At that moment, the Pantheon would strike, dealing a devastating blow to Dragonmarsh. It was a strategy designed to kill two birds with one stone.

Now, all Bear King Bailey needed was for Arion Foyer to appear. When he did, Bailey would summon his elite warriors to finish the job and ensure Dragonmarsh’s collapse.