Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Battle to Slay the Dragon

The breath of the Azure Dragon carried immense earth magic. As the blue-green flames swept across, trees on the hillside shattered one after another, splinters flying everywhere.

The three mages fled like mad beasts, but with the dragon’s breath closing in behind them and nowhere left to run, they had no choice but to turn and face their doom. One of them, a glint of ruthless resolve flashing across his face, pulled from his robes a metal sphere the size of a pigeon egg and hurled it to the ground. With a resounding clang, a golden light erupted, instantly enveloping him.

The other two, seeing this, erupted in fury, cursing, “Bastard! You kept a trick up your sleeve!”

One, in his desperation, bit through his tongue, spitting a mist of blood into the air. Rapidly, he traced a magical sigil before him with his wand. The sigil shone gold, then burst into radiant light, colliding headlong with the dragon’s breath. There was a thunderous, bloody spray; upon contact with the dragon’s breath, the mage’s body exploded, flesh and blood bursting into rain that splattered in crimson droplets.

The blood was so dark it was nearly black, and as it splashed through the dragon’s breath, it struck the Azure Dragon directly. Where the blood fell, red spots blossomed across the dragon’s body, emitting fierce, corrosive smoke. At once, hissing black vapors unfurled from the dragon’s flesh.

“Black magic!” Shaya heard the wretch in his grasp suddenly cry out in alarm. But this was no time to care about black or white magic—seeing the dragon’s breath closing in, Shaya sprang into action, legs pounding as he leapt in great bounds, quickly covering more than ten meters. He aimed for a steep slope beside the hillside and rolled down with all his might.

The black magic, cast with the mage’s life, wrung a roar of pain from the Azure Dragon. The remaining mage, face set in grim determination, drove his wand hard into the ground, clutched it tightly, and spat out a rapid incantation.

The dragon’s breath swept over him—the mage’s robes and flesh peeled away, yet he seemed to feel nothing, eyes already dead within their sockets. He forced out the final words of his spell. With a boom, his wand shattered to pieces, but the earth at his feet began to tremble and split with a massive crack.

Beneath the rift yawned a bottomless black void. From its depths came a howling wind, and a giant tongue of flame surged upward!

The mage breathed his last, his face empty of expression, hollow eyes fixed on the dragon. His remaining bones scattered on the wind, dissolving to dust.

This self-sacrificed mage was the very one who once roasted meat with fire magic when recruiting Dodoro. Though only a middling mage in terms of fire magic, he possessed a hidden art: summoning. In his final act, he burned his soul to ignite a last spell, tearing space asunder and opening a chasm to the Inferno. The incantation summoned forth a powerful magical creature.

With a deafening roar, a giant hand of flame clawed up from the fissure, slamming onto the ground. Where its fire swept, grass and trees vanished to ash.

From the depths emerged a creature wreathed in roaring flame, its entire body seemingly made of fire. The blaze was so intense that even Shaya, far below the slope, felt the searing heat. Where it moved, boulders cracked apart, and fire spouted from the fissures.

The monster stood over ten meters tall, a giant out of ancient legend. Standing before the dragon, it was slightly taller, though not as massive overall. Its fiery face split in a gaping maw, belching tongues of flame as it bellowed.

Shaya sucked in a sharp breath. “What in the world is that?!”

Dodoro, now clinging to Shaya’s neck rather than throttling him, stammered, “It’s... it’s a Hellfire Elemental!!”

The dragon, irritated by the elemental’s roar, opened its jaws and unleashed its breath. The green-blue breath swirled forth, but the Hellfire Elemental spread its arms wide, summoning a wall of fire seven or eight meters tall, which held the dragon’s breath at bay.

“Incredible!” Shaya’s spirits soared. But then he noticed something amiss—the fire, though blocking the dragon’s breath, seemed to sap the elemental’s strength. Its flames waned, and its towering form shrank visibly.

The elemental blocked the attack, then charged at the dragon, embracing the beast with flaming arms. The Azure Dragon howled in pain, thrashing violently to fling the elemental aside. The fire elemental crashed to the ground, sparks flying, but it scrambled up and drove a fiery fist into the dragon’s belly.

With a thunderous impact, the blow left the dragon’s belly scales scorched and blackened. Already weakened by the black magic “Voodoo Curse”—where the mage’s blood had splattered, the curse ate into its flesh, draining its life force. Though dragons are naturally resistant to magic, a black magician’s ultimate sacrifice is formidable; the cursed spots clung to its body, and though the dragon’s blue flames tried to purge the voodoo, it needed time. Entangled by the fire elemental, it was struck twice more, weakening its aura and allowing the bloodstains to spread madly.

The Hellfire Elemental rose, grappling with the dragon. Its vast flaming body clung to the dragon’s scales, burning furiously. The dragon roared in agony, writhing and slamming the elemental about, smashing trees and rocks into splinters and flattening the land into a field of flames.

In the end, the elemental was no match for the dragon. After a fierce struggle, its flames faded, its body shrinking by half. The dragon pinned it beneath a mighty claw, then slammed its head with a furious roar. The elemental let out a defiant bellow, then burst apart into scattered flames and was gone.

The Azure Dragon’s body bore scorch marks over nearly half its length, flesh torn and blood oozing from charred wounds. It trembled in pain before slowly regaining its feet.

At that moment, a golden light flashed in the air nearby—a figure appeared. It was the last surviving mage. Somehow, he had used a magical device to vanish just as the dragon’s breath struck, avoiding death.

Though battered, he was largely unhurt. From a distance, he raised his broken wand and chanted a rapid, urgent spell.

Beams of light shot from the wand, striking the ground around the dragon and transforming into a host of shadowy forms.

All of them were undead! More than a dozen deathly warriors clad in tattered armor, their bodies half-rotted, with bones gleaming faintly with a metallic sheen beneath the remnants of flesh.

These undead black warriors, naturally aggressive toward living beings, needed no commands. They surged toward the dragon, drawn by the overwhelming vitality that poured from the great beast.

Swarming like ants upon an elephant, their battered weapons, wreathed in black flames, stabbed into the dragon’s flesh. Each time the black fire pierced it, the dragon let out a cry of agony, thrashing its head and lashing out with its massive tail. With a single sweep, several undead were flung away—those struck directly crumbled to ash, but those only half destroyed still crawled toward the dragon, relentless.

Just as Ada had said, this dragon’s vision was gravely impaired. It could barely perceive such small foes, only twisting its head and spewing breath blindly. The green-blue flames incinerated a few more undead, but those that remained continued to assail it, their weapons carving deep, blackened wounds.

Where the black flames touched, the wounds festered and rotted rapidly.

The dragon fought back, sweeping its tail in wide arcs to finally crush the last of the undead. Yet its power was clearly fading. The breath it exhaled grew ever paler, no longer the deep blue-green, but a faint haze. The dragon collapsed with a groan, nostrils venting clouds of mist. Its body was riddled with wounds—dozens, perhaps a hundred in all. It struggled to heal itself with innate draconic magic, but the undead’s black magic clung stubbornly, and now, with the damage done, it was much harder to purge.

Blood poured from several wounds like trickling streams.

The final mage, a vicious grin twisting his face, lifted his wand, which shone with magical light. He fired a volley of magical blasts around the dragon, each one thundering like distant drums.

Shaya immediately realized—this was a ploy to confuse the dragon! Now blind, the dragon relied mostly on sound; the cacophony was meant to disorient its hearing.

Sure enough, the dragon raised its head, striving to listen, then, enraged by the noise, unleashed several more breaths. But these wasted what little magic it had left, the color fading from blue-green to nearly transparent.

Now, at last, the mage seemed satisfied. He hesitated, then drew a glittering ring from his robes and slid it onto his finger. Slowly, he stepped toward the weakened dragon.

It seemed to be a wind ring, for as he walked, he hovered inches above the ground, leaving no trace of sound.

“That one is cunning,” Shaya muttered, scalp prickling. “A real tough customer.”

“That’s the only high-level mage among them. Didn’t you see? His badge is gold,” came the unexpected reply from the wretch Shaya carried.

Beside him, Dodoro gritted his teeth, staring at the wretch with a strange look. The wretch met his gaze, lips pressed tight, and shook his head slightly. Dodoro’s face changed, but after a moment’s hesitation, he said nothing.

Shaya, oblivious to this silent exchange, was wholly absorbed by the ferocious battle before him. As the mage neared the weakened dragon, a thought struck him.

“Huh? Where’s Ada? Damn, did he get turned to dust by the dragon’s breath just now?”