100: The Dark Creation Armory

ROAR!!!

The Crimson Lizard King, in its final burst of ferocity, sank its jaws into the neck of the massive creature. Its mangled body convulsed violently as it forcefully flung Orson away.

A faint, ethereal voice echoed in Orson's mind: "Run…"

As he plummeted downward, Orson's shock was tinged with disbelief. "An elite boss-tier beast… can talk?"

He watched helplessly as the scene unfolded, rage and powerlessness consuming him.

"You goddamned monster!" Orson roared, his eyes bloodshot.

The massive beast continued chewing indifferently, its cold, disdainful demeanor unshaken. Only the head of the Crimson Lizard King remained attached to its body, jaws still locked onto the beast's neck, even in death—defending its honor as the King of Death's Summit.