Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

Roxana, her body still grievously injured with her lower half missing, let out a low, dark chuckle that reverberated through the air.

Her fiery eyes burned with an unsettling mix of malice and amusement, as if the pain meant nothing to her. Despite the catastrophic damage to her body, she wore a smug smile, completely unfazed by the devastation General Valen had wrought.

"You really thought that was enough to kill me?" she asked, her voice dripping with mockery, each word a slow, deliberate taunt. Her eyes gleamed with condescension, as though Valen's efforts were nothing more than a child's play to her.

Valen, still panting from the immense energy he had expended, stared at her in disbelief, his breath ragged. He had unleashed his most powerful attack, and yet here she was, standing—or at least hovering—on the precipice of destruction, but far from defeated.

A flicker of fear crossed his face as he watched Roxana's confident smirk, unwavering in the face of what should have been her death.

"You thought you'd seen my limit?" Roxana's tone became sharper, her amusement growing darker, more dangerous. She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening as if savoring the tension in the air. "You thought this was all I had?"

Her voice dropped lower, filled with a menacing edge. "That was just a fraction of my strength, Valen." The way she said his name, slow and deliberate, sent chills through the air. Her fiery eyes locked onto his, daring him to comprehend what was coming.

Valen's expression hardened, though the unease in his eyes betrayed him. "What… what are you?" he muttered, more to himself than to her, his voice shaky with a fear he tried to suppress.
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Roxana's laugh was soft at first, but it grew louder, more intense, echoing across the battlefield like the growl of a beast ready to pounce. "You really want to know?" she asked, her tone suddenly playful, but underneath it was a promise of violence. "Then let me show you what real power looks like."

Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with the thrill of battle. Without another word, the ground beneath her began to tremble, and the air grew thick with heat.

Roxana's body glowed with an intense, molten energy as the area around her began to shift and crack. She activated Volcanic Eruption, and suddenly, lava and magma burst from the earth, turning the battlefield into a sea of molten rock and flames.

The magma rose like a tidal wave, washing over everything in its path, consuming the landscape in fiery destruction.

Valen instinctively took a step back, his eyes wide with disbelief as he felt the overwhelming heat. The very ground under his feet was melting, and the temperature skyrocketed, making it hard to breathe.

From within the swirling lava, Roxana's body began to reform, but something was different this time. As the molten rock swirled around her, Roxana's form began to grow and shift. Her body, once humanoid, now transformed into something far more terrifying.

The magma and lava molded around her, reshaping her into the fearsome form of a Volcanic Dragon—a massive, towering creature of molten rock and searing flames. Her dragon scales glowed like hot metal, and her massive wings stretched out, casting a shadow over the battlefield.

Valen's eyes were wide with unmasked fear, a look that had never crossed his face in all the battles he had fought.

The once proud general, who had stood against countless enemies and emerged victorious time and again, found himself trembling. His heart raced as he stared up at the massive, terrifying form before him—a Volcanic Dragon, towering over him like a creature from nightmares.

"This… this can't be…" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. "A… a dragon…"

His words were almost lost in the heat of the molten landscape, but Roxana, her eyes now glowing like burning embers in her colossal dragon form, heard him clearly. Her gaze locked onto him, and the air around them seemed to grow heavier under the sheer force of her presence.

A deep, rumbling growl emanated from within her chest, reverberating through the ground as she spoke, her voice now a thunderous growl that echoed across the battlefield.

"You thought you could defeat me, Valen?" she taunted, her tone filled with mocking cruelty. "Let me show you the true power of the Volcanic Dragon."

There was no more humor in her voice now—only cold, ruthless intent. Without giving Valen a moment to react, Roxana unleashed her Volcanic Dragon Breath, a devastating torrent of magma and searing lava spewing forth from her mouth, igniting the very air.

The fiery breath surged forward with such intensity that even the air around it seemed to burn, distorting the space between them. The ground—once solid rock—melted in an instant, turning into rivers of molten stone as the blast approached.

Valen's face twisted in terror as the sheer power of the attack overwhelmed him. In a last, desperate attempt to defend himself, he raised his greatsword, the sacred weapon that had served him in so many battles. His grip was tight, his knuckles white, but there was a trembling in his hands.

With all his strength, he brought the greatsword up to block the torrent of molten fury. "No… no…!" he cried, his voice laced with panic.

But it was futile.

The lava consumed everything in its path, the intense heat melting through rock and steel alike. The greatsword, once a symbol of his strength, stood no chance. The molten fire overwhelmed it, and the blade melted in Valen's hands as if it were made of nothing more than wax.

His scream of agony pierced the air for only a moment before it was drowned out by the deafening roar of Roxana's breath. The lava engulfed him completely, consuming his body in an instant. His proud form was reduced to nothing but ash and charred remnants, his life snuffed out like a candle before a storm.

The battlefield fell silent, save for the sizzling and crackling of molten rock beneath Roxana's massive form. She stood triumphant, her massive wings casting a shadow over the scorched landscape, the very ground beneath her feet glowing with the residual heat of her attack.

A triumphant roar escaped her, reverberating across the battlefield—a sound filled with both amusement and cruelty, the roar of a predator who had just finished toying with her prey.

"Too weak," Roxana muttered, her voice booming, echoing across the now desolate landscape. Her tone was laced with boredom and disappointment as she surveyed the battlefield. The so-called strongest general had been nothing more than a minor obstacle.

Her glowing eyes scanned the destruction, the once-proud Valen nothing more than a memory now, as she let out a final, cold chuckle.