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"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! IT HURTS! You damn Dragon Slayers only pick on innocent, adorable little dragons like me! There's no room for you Dragon Slayers in this trial!"
Vritra's voice had gone from arrogant roar to something approaching a genuine whine, her massive body convulsing with each punishing blow.
"Oh? You've still got enough breath left to complain?" Beowulf cracked his knuckles, a savage grin spreading across his face. "Guess that means I'm getting soft in my old age. Let's do another set!"
"AAAAAHHH!!!"
The dragon's scream tore through the battlefield as Beowulf's fists connected with devastating precision. Each impact sent shockwaves rippling outward, kicking up clouds of debris and forcing nearby players to brace themselves against the aftermath.
[Hajime_The_Soft]: How come Vritra seems kinda pitiful now?
[Ruthless_Reality]: Hajime's catching feelings for the dragon again, isn't he
[NightOwl_Gaming]: The one above me is being way too aggressive lmao
[Dragon_Simp_42]: Is there anything wrong with that? I also think our precious Vritra, my waifu, is absolutely adorable
[Cursed_Comment]: No buddy, this is literally a DRAGON and you're still down bad for it
[LOL_Master]: Lmfao this big fat lizard was talking so much trash earlier but the second a Dragon Slayer showed up it turned into a punching bag
[Wiki_Warrior]: So, all-knowing Max, hurry up and tell us what's going on! This Servant is way too badass
[Chad_Appreciator]: Facts, this dude is literally the manliest man to ever man
[OH_NO]: Oh, since we're talking about manly men, we gotta bring up that adventurer's story again
[Please_No]: Take it away somewhere else, we've already seen enough of that cursed content
[Impatient_Andy]: Max, you old fox, stop pretending to be deep in thought over there! Do something useful! At least be a battlefield commentator instead of just spectating like a total bum
[Maverick_Official]: Are you even trying to be polite? 😤
Through multiple streamer perspectives, the viewers were witnessing Beowulf's absolutely overwhelming combat power in real time.
Vritra, who had previously seemed to enjoy taking hits—getting off on the pain like some kind of masochistic monster—was now letting out genuine cries of agony. The kind of screams that made it clear this wasn't fun anymore.
All that earlier arrogance? Gone. Completely evaporated.
Not that anyone could blame the situation. Who could've predicted that Beowulf would show up with the Dragon Slayer's blessing active? Those punches weren't just strong—they were specifically designed to mess up dragons. One after another, each blow landed with the weight of divine purpose behind it.
If Max had to make a comparison, it was like taking a vampire, shoving an entire bulb of garlic up its ass, dipping a crucifix in holy water, and then using that blessed cross as a weapon to beat the ever-loving hell out of its backside.
It would be a genuine miracle if Vritra didn't scream.
But despite the excitement flooding the chat and the obvious morale boost on the battlefield, Max's expression remained grim.
It doesn't matter how hard we hit this thing, he thought, his jaw tight with frustration. If we can't eliminate the Master, Vritra will just keep reviving forever.
That was the fundamental problem. They could beat Vritra into a pulp a hundred times over, but without finding and taking out Kenneth, all they were doing was draining their own magical energy reserves. Eventually, exhaustion would set in. The Servants would run dry. And then...
Vritra's strategy was disgustingly effective in its simplicity. The dragon could afford to die as many times as it took. All it needed was one solid hit—just one—and any Servant on their side would be finished.
Its massive body, while creating certain tactical disadvantages, also meant that a single careless movement could crush anyone present. One graze from those claws. One tail swipe that connected. One moment of bad luck.
Dead or crippled. Those were the only options.
And then there was the sun overhead—that damned artificial sun Vritra had conjured, steadily cranking up the ambient temperature like the world's most aggressive space heater. Even with Medea's cooling talismans working overtime, Max could feel the protection weakening. They were operating on borrowed time.
Same problem as always, Max thought grimly. If we can't end this fast, we're done.
But where the hell was Kenneth hiding?
Underground had been their first assumption, but they'd already ruled that out. Underwater was theoretically possible, but Max dismissed it almost immediately—too easy to get caught in collateral damage. One stray beam and the entire ocean would evaporate in seconds.
Inside Vritra's body?
Max considered it briefly, then shook his head internally. Too risky. With this many beam-wielding Servants on the field, Vritra could get completely vaporized at any moment. Kenneth wouldn't gamble his life on that.
So it had to be somewhere external. Somewhere nearby but protected. Somewhere—
The ground shook violently, interrupting his train of thought.
Vritra, beaten so badly that her draconic features had become almost unrecognizable, rose once more. Her resurrection complete, her dragon eyes burned with barely contained fury as she fixed her gaze on Beowulf.
Her jaws opened wide, magical energy gathering in her throat like a gathering storm.
"Take THIS, you damn Dragon Slayer!" Vritra roared, her voice cracking with rage. "All you bastard Dragon Slayers—JUST DIE! Dragon Breath!"
"Be careful, Berserker!"
"Nice setup, Lily!" Beowulf shouted back, not even flinching. "You damn evil dragon! Try THIS on for size—Touch and Fall!"
Beowulf was currently their main damage dealer. The man was a walking wrecking ball of destruction, and losing him now would be catastrophic.
Artoria Lily, who had already resolved to do everything in her power to help, wasn't about to let him tank a full-force Dragon Breath to the face.
She flash-stepped in front of him, golden energy flowing from her small frame as she formed a shimmering barrier. Her sword rose to meet the incoming torrent, the blade gleaming as it intercepted the cascading magical energy head-on.
The impact was tremendous. Lily's feet dug into the cracked earth as she held her ground, her armor rattling from the strain.
And while she bought those precious seconds, Astolfo seized the opening.
Descending from the sky like a pink-haired missile, he worked in perfect coordination with Chen Ge below. Using the small puncture hole that the Moon Spirit Elixir had created earlier, Astolfo drove the tip of his spear deep into Vritra's exposed flesh.
The effect was instantaneous.
Vritra's eyes went glassy as a wave of dizziness slammed into her brain. Before the dragon could even process what was happening, her massive body collapsed sideways, crashing into the ground with enough force to send tremors through the entire battlefield.
Her upper and lower jaws snapped shut involuntarily, and the half-finished Dragon Breath that had been building in her mouth detonated against her own face, leaving a massive black scorch mark across her snout.
Beowulf's eyes lit up with savage delight.
Perfect.
Although there had been... certain disagreements earlier about combat philosophy, watching Lily half-kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily from the exertion of blocking that attack, Beowulf felt something that might've been respect stir in his chest.
He summoned his weapons and charged forward, shouting back at the exhausted Saber: "Nice work, little lady! Leave the rest to me!" His grin turned feral as he closed the distance on the downed dragon. "Hey, fat lizard! Let's see if that skull of yours is hard enough to take a beating!"
"C-Could you be a little gentler?" Vritra's voice came out weak and wobbly.
"Sure I could! But first—guess which hand I'm gonna hit you with. Left or right?"
"...Left hand?"
CRACK.
"...Right hand?"
CRACK.
"Are you hitting me with BOTH HANDS?!"
"Yup! But there's no prize for guessing correctly!"
"YIIIIKES!!!"
[Gorey_Gary]: Max you old fox, what's with this mosaic?! I wanna see Vritra turned into dragon paste!
[Newbie_Nancy]: Wait hold on, is this mosaic because the streamer's watching something spicy in another window?
[Concerned_Carol]: Sis, if you're at low HP just die already, why are you doing so many sit-ups???
[Heat_Stroke_Henry]: Max do something, stop pretending to be a philosopher over there, this sun is literally killing people
Yeah, excessively brutal scenes naturally couldn't be shown to the players.
Max had set up a small automatic filter—whenever things got a bit too... hand-beaten beef ball in nature, the mosaic would activate on its own. Same principle as the mysterious white mist that now showed up as a "Seeking Truth Orb" in the display settings.
But just like the chat was pointing out, even Beowulf's devastating punches weren't enough.
With another earth-shaking roar, Vritra resurrected yet again.
Seeing this, even the legendary Dragon Slayer himself couldn't help but grimace, his expression souring like he'd just bitten into something rotten.
Damn. This is actually annoying. Beowulf's thoughts were direct and uncomplicated. This thing isn't as strong as the fire dragon I killed back in the day, but infinite resurrection? That's just disgusting.
Reality didn't give him time to strategize.
The moment Vritra finished regenerating, her counterattack came immediately.
And this time, the dragon had learned.
Dragon Breath is too slow, Vritra realized. Every time I raise my head to charge it, they block me. So...
I'll just roll.
Without warning, Vritra sprawled her massive body completely flat against the ground and started rolling.
Just... rolling.
Like the world's most destructive barrel going downhill.
In an instant, the already-devastated buildings that had somehow survived the earlier battles were reduced to flying debris. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal sprayed outward like shrapnel from an explosion, the barrage so dense and fast that even the NPCs who'd been hiding in nearby structures were instantly obliterated.
They looked like members of the Survey Corps cosplaying their own deaths.
But even as a piece of debris sliced across his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood trickling down his face, Max didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even consider running.
Because at that exact moment, as his eyes tracked the chaotic destruction with razor-sharp focus—
His lips curved upward.
Found it.
Vritra's Master.
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