Translator: AnubisTL
In the preceding battle, the paladin had displayed the most ferocious attacks, but the decisive blow lay hidden within the war priest's divine magic.
Garos's expression turned solemn as he sensed the overwhelming danger. He took a deep breath, attempting to evade the strike with his speed.
But the spellcaster uttered the final syllable of his incantation.
Shadow Cage!
Without warning, a dense, shadowy light enveloped the juvenile dragon completely, leaving no corner or crevice untouched.
Simultaneously, the world fractured violently in Garos's eyes.
On one hand, he could see the scene within the gladiator domain: the blade of judgment gradually descending, the dragon-slaying greatsword of the paladin blazing with an unprecedented radiance as it hurtled toward him.
On the other hand, he felt as though he were in another world.
A realm devoid of color save for black and white, as dim as the cosmos itself, neither bright nor dark, where only shadows lingered everywhere.
The colossal blade of judgment fell with lethal force, piercing toward Garos's heart.
He roared and howled, his body trembling violently as dense golden lightning erupted from him, causing the shadows clinging to his form to ripple and gradually fade.
With a desperate twist, Garos managed to shift his body just enough to avoid a fatal strike.
Clang!
Sparks flew.
The blade of judgment continued its descent inch by inch, tearing through steel with a grinding screech. It pierced through Garos's scales, flesh, and bone, cleaving through his body from back to abdomen.
Simultaneously, the vengeance holy knight unleashed his final, meticulously crafted strike.
Another evil-slaying slash.
The dragon-slaying greatsword struck the red-iron dragon's massive neck, cleaving through scales and flesh to create a gaping wound. Yet it failed to sever the spine completely. The burning flames seared the dragon's flesh, inflicting excruciating pain.
The shadow cage's duration had expired.
This spell, conjured by a 14th-level conjurer at the cost of half his magic energy and spirit, had restrained Garos long enough for him to suffer unprecedentedly severe injuries.
Boom!
The red-iron dragon shook its head violently, sending the paladin flying with a ferocious swipe.
The blade of judgment had dissipated, leaving a horrifying, gaping wound in Garos's body. Residual energy prevented the bleeding from stopping, causing blood to gush forth like a torrent.
The neck wound was equally gruesome.
"It's over," the holy knight gasped, coughing up blood. His face was as pale as the war priest's.
"Juvenile dragon, your strength has exceeded all expectations. To slay three of our companions... you are truly formidable."
"If you were allowed to mature, you would undoubtedly become a terrifying evil dragon, ravaging the world. But we will not grant you that opportunity."
After a fierce battle, they were nearing the limits of their physical endurance, their bodies pushed to the breaking point.
But the juvenile dragon before them appeared even more severely wounded, collapsing to the ground and forming a small pool of blood beneath him.
"Hand it over to me," Viscount Ironthorn said, his eyes burning with hatred.
He leaped down from the high platform, longsword in hand, and strode toward the juvenile dragon.
"I will flay every dragon scale from your body, leaving you to die in excruciating agony," Viscount Ironthorn said cruelly. "Starting with the scales on your face."
As a Tier 9 warrior in his prime, he had no fear of a counterattack from the near-death juvenile dragon. He raised his longsword, ready to carve into the dragon scales on Garos's face.
Thump!
A muffled, thunderous sound echoed, causing Viscount Ironthorn to pause slightly.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The thunderous rhythm intensified, resonating from the red-iron dragon's chest.
Crimson light erupted from his body, originating from his heart and spreading through his limbs and bones, forming intricate blood-red patterns across his scales.
Viscount Ironthorn's heart sank.
Forgetting his torment, he flicked his wrist, and his longsword plunged toward the juvenile dragon's head with renewed speed.
Yet the blade stopped three inches short, unable to penetrate further.
A bloodstained dragon claw gripped the viscount's sword, squeezing with crushing force.
Crack!
The longsword shattered into fragments.
Viscount Ironthorn's face twisted in horror as he spun to flee, only to be seized by Garos's claw.
"I'll reunite you with your son."
Garos's expression remained impassive as his claw tightened, inch by inch. The viscount gasped for air, his desperate struggles futile as his body and armor twisted into a mangled mass of unrecognizable flesh.
Garos rose, his gaze sweeping over the remaining dragon hunters.
"Now it's your turn."
The thunderous pounding of his heart echoed through the gladiator domain.
Across the arena, the last members of the dragon hunting group huddled together, panting as they retreated.
The spellcaster's robes were soaked with cold sweat, the paladin's greatsword propped against the ground to support his trembling frame, the magic potion expert's potion bottles were long empty, and the war priest's holy symbol hung dim and lifeless.
They were like cornered beasts, while Garos's vertical pupils burned with icy killing intent.
In that moment, the roles of hunter and prey had reversed.
Garos's dragon wings stirred up a bloody gale. Before the afterimage of his movement had faded, his dragon claw had already pierced the spellcaster's chest.
The spellcaster, whose shadow magic had bound Garos, didn't even have time to scream before being flung into the air.
The red-iron dragon reared its head and unleashed a torrent of breath, incinerating the falling figure into ash.
Paladin Leo staggered to his feet, raising his greatsword. But the blade shattered the instant he swung it. Garos's tail swept across like a siege hammer, smashing Leo into the stone wall.
Fragments of internal organs oozed from the dented armor. The warrior who had sworn an enemy's oath to slay dragons tried to rise, only to be pinned to the ground by Garos's massive foot.
Garos stood upright, crushing the paladin beneath his foot. With each earth-shaking stomp, he shattered the holy knight's body into pieces.
The dragon hunters, their stamina exhausted and their tactics spent, were now utterly defenseless against Garos's ferocious might.
They never imagined this juvenile dragon could unleash such relentless bursts of power, as if he would never reach the end of his life.
The magic potion expert trembled as he pulled out his last potion. The pale green liquid bubbled within the vial. He hurled it at Garos, but the wind pressure from the dragon's wing sent it hurtling back, shattering at his feet and engulfing him in a green mist.
He let out a tortured wail as his skin rotted and bones melted. In less than three seconds, he was reduced to a puddle of pus.
The last war priest knelt, praying to his divine spirit, but received no response.
Garos seized the priest's head in his clawed hand and said in a deep voice, "It seems your faith was not devout enough."
With a muffled crunch as his claws tightened, the priest's headless corpse collapsed, marking the end of the battle.
When Garos was the only living creature remaining, the crimson barrier that had sealed the arena began to dissolve, gradually revealing the sky of the Sierre Wilderness.
(End of the Chapter)
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