The air trembled violently, as if the whole world were shaking. It was the bodies of two Ancient Dragons crashing together in midair.
Though they only touched for a fleeting instant, the sheer force of the collision sent the once-empty, desolate sky into violent upheaval, like a boulder dropped into still water, stirring up ripples and towering waves.
The power carried by those dragon bodies was almost beyond imagining, so great that even the surrounding air was ruthlessly compressed and blasted outward by the impact.
Nolan stood firmly in place for several seconds, gazing toward the sunken mountain peak in the distance.
"Everyone's found their opponent, then. I suppose it's time I moved too."
Just as Nolan shifted his foot, the two Ancient Dragons locked in battle suddenly went quiet, as if they had sensed something unusual.
But after only an instant, they snapped back and threw themselves at each other again without hesitation.
Florissax's movements were fierce and forceful, every attack direct and uncompromising.
Senessax, meanwhile, seemed to melt into the air like a ghost, her movements elusive and unpredictable. She would flash into view without warning and unleash lethal strikes from the most vicious angles.
Each time Florissax dealt with one of those killing blows, Senessax immediately withdrew, turning into a phantom-like streak of light at astonishing speed and leaving trails of afterimages across the sky.
Then, in the very next moment, she would reappear and launch another, even sharper offensive.
Back and forth they went, locked in a wild, life-and-death struggle.
Their figures crossed and flickered, and the desperate battle was so breathtakingly beautiful that it resembled a grand, dazzling dance, moving too fast for the eye to follow.
The hazy grayish-white dragon shadow and the equally blurred cherry-red dragon shadow twisted together like two whirlwinds that refused to part.
Amid the flashing thunder, their claws crossed and tore at each other with savage force, while their sharp teeth scraped and clashed, producing a sound that made the blood run cold.
The chaotic scene continued without pause, until the two could no longer be told apart.
The air was filled with the violent tremors stirred up by Florissax and Senessax, rising wave after wave like a raging sea.
At the same time, the Mad Dragon's roars mingled with it all, filling the entire scene with killing intent so dense it felt almost solid.
"His Majesty the Mad Dragon certainly has patience," Nolan muttered. "Even with things this far gone, he still hasn't shown himself."
The "Mad Dragon" Bayle was known as "the Dread"," yet Jagged Peak Summit was nearly boiling over into chaos, and he still had not emerged. It was honestly unexpected.
They said Placidusax had wounded him gravely, and that the two heads of His Majesty the Ancient Dragon King were still left on his body, which was why he remained here to recover.
Looking at it now, his injuries truly had been severe.
A thunderous series of footsteps suddenly came from within the mountain. Though the sound was still distant, its heavy, powerful rhythm was unmistakable.
Nolan kept walking, his ears lifting slightly.
As time passed, the footsteps grew clearer, approaching Nolan with slow, heavy pressure.
Nolan's heart gave a slight jolt as he suddenly realized the other party's wings seemed to be broken.
Before he could even picture the Mad Dragon's current wretched state, the Flying Dragon had already appeared before his eyes.
It was an incomplete, ruined figure. The Scale Armor covering its body no longer shone with its former brilliance, but had turned a dull, dark red, as if soaked in blood.
Its hard scales were shattered, and in some places they had fallen away completely, leaving only bare flesh, exposing the bright red muscle and pale bone beneath. On its ruined wings, bone spurs could be seen jutting beyond the torn flesh.
Curved dragon horns covered that hideous, terrifying face, and its massive body pressed down upon the ground strewn with crimson flowers. It was like a demon that had walked out of hell, radiating endless brutality and killing intent.
The Dread, the "Mad Dragon" Bayle, ruler among the Flying Dragons, revealed his form before everyone without restraint, accompanied by roar after furious roar.
He looked down over everything from above.
Yet strangely, when the dragon saw the two standing before him, he did not pounce.
Bayle looked at the young human Lord as if puzzled, and Nolan was in no hurry to charge either.
He stood where he was, staring across the distance at the Mad Dragon.
Bayle shook his head. The scent on the other party was strangely confusing to him. He had bathed in dragon blood, yet smelled like a Flying Dragon.
"Young dragon, have you come to challenge me?"
A voice sounded in Nolan's ears. There were no complicated words. A simple roar was enough to convey the Flying Dragon's meaning.
"I came to kill you."
Nolan spoke calmly. Aside from the two frenzied Ancient Dragons still crashing into each other, the final powerful being here was the dragon before him.
"You want to replace me? Become the Lord of Flying Dragons?"
The Flying Dragon named Bayle narrowed his eyes slightly, revealing a savage grin thick with bloodlust, a grin filled with a chilling, twisted excitement.
Nolan continued looking at the Flying Dragon without so much as moving an eyebrow.
"Don't you think the goal of becoming King of the Flying Dragons is a little small?" Nolan said. "How about Elden Lord?"
"Elden Lord?"
Bayle's mouth split into an exaggerated curve, and he suddenly burst into laughter.
"What a ridiculous title... Ah, right. That old bastard, Placidusax, was once called that by a pack of insignificant creatures."
"So you don't care for that throne," Nolan said softly. "Then why did you challenge Placidusax?"
"I simply couldn't stand the sight of that old bastard." Bayle gave a mocking laugh. "Immortality, eternity. All of it is pointless drivel."
"Rather than letting some ancient, rotten thing rule the dragons, why couldn't I be the Dragon Lord? So my fangs and claws pierced through his body!"
"Only the Dragon Lord?" Nolan asked.
"What?" Bayle froze.
"Why do you only want to be the Lord of Dragons? What about everyone else? What about all those who pray to the Lord?"
Nolan took a step forward and slowly walked toward the Flying Dragon.
"Humans? What right do such fragile things have to be ruled?" Bayle sneered.
"I see. I thought you were a Flying Dragon, but it seems there's human blood in your body."
"You should be grateful that dragon blood flows through you. It is proof of nobility."
"Nobility?" Nolan looked at him. "Then what is baseness?"
"Why, the 'humans' you speak of, of course. I must say, they are my favorite toys," Bayle said.
"Flame, lightning, claws, fangs... anything will do."
"Do you know what it feels like to watch those fragile lives break? It is truly amusing."
"Is that so?"
"It is."