Chapter 482 – A Nightmare Come True

When Noir threw herself into the heat of battle and all thirteen remaining azure True Dragons scattered in fright, Asterios brought out his own greatsword, taking a quick look through his available tokens. The blues didn’t appear to be running away in pure abandon, more like attempting to increase the distance between them and the merciless executioner that had descended upon their nest. Still, it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t get any such ideas in a minute or two. Therefore, it would be wise to lock the area in, limiting the battlefield to the nearby surroundings.

Picking a nice matching spell, he slotted it into an empty groove, rotated his sword so the tip faced the ground, and stabbed downward. After his blade sank into the stone a few inches deep, he activated the stored technique. Even his own skin got covered in goosebumps as wicked shadows burst into every direction, slithering over the terrain as they unrolled onto it like the most malevolent carpet.

Everyone stopped whatever they had been doing to watch the darkness race outwards to the very edges of the nest, then gather around it in a ring. One by one, massive curved pillars resembling skeletal fingers rose into the air, their tips meeting at the apex of their ascension right above the center of the burrows. The evil shadows climbed those columns and spread between them, creating wicked see-through membranes. Horrifying visages swirled inside those, forcing the spectators to avoid gazing into them directly.

The Dome of Dread had been set up.

As he finished his magic, the Father stomped towards Asterios, towering over him with a furious expression, most likely blaming him for the carnage he had brought upon their dens.

“Ah, so you think I’m the easier target, hmmm?” Asterios chuckled, pulling his weapon out and resting it atop his shoulder. “Honestly, I can’t blame you. She looks downright frightening out there. She must have been really holding out on me, huh.”

“I’m going to rip your head off, carve it open, and piss into your skull!” the draconic patriarch shouted in rage.

“Quite specific.” Asterios raised a brow at him. “Is that what the hatchers are into?”

His adversary roared in fury, but he was ready and smacked the incoming chomp with the flat side of his blade, knocking the male’s big head to the side. The gong was quite satisfying. And so was the crunch.

“You insect!” The Father sneered, readying up for another strike. “I’ll squash you before you have time to shift!”

The swipe was faster, but still possible to parry, scarring the ground next to Ast’s thigh with three profound gashes. Many more followed, and he blocked each single swing, putting his weapon in the path ahead of time, focusing his energies in his eyes for enhanced perception. It allowed him to spot minute changes in the Dragon’s musculature and predict his moves.

It might have looked like the blue leader was keeping his oath true, but Asterios simply wasn’t interested in switching forms. He didn’t often get the chance to test the famous Dragon Slayer equipment against actual True Dragons. Noir was excluded from that list since, obviously, they wouldn’t fight to the death anymore.

Giving up ground, he activated another sigil. The next claw strike that connected with the sword rebounded with a wave of transparent force, pushing his opponent back. While the Dragon peered at his paralyzed limb, Asterios replaced the spent spell with another and rushed forward. Jumping into the air, he invoked more magic, the edge of his weapon coated with a violet mist.

His greatsword cleaved right through the healthy front leg, evoking a roar of pain from its owner as the male’s chest thumped to the ground, both limbs unusable. The injury immediately blackened, and the veins going out of it turned purple, the potent poison seeping far into its victim’s system, preventing any regeneration from happening.

Sensing an incoming breath attack, Asterios retreated and brought the blade to the front, positioning it diagonally. The protective spell slotted into it activated on its own, pulling up half of a spherical barrier that covered his entire figure. None of the super-hot cyan flames did anything to him, though he noted that things had gotten quite heated as the magic technique didn’t eliminate heat. With his resistance, it was insignificant, but a normal person would have gotten a tad sweaty.

The Father was surprised to find him still standing without a single singed hair, so Asterios made use of that shock and lunged for the other front leg, cutting it off too. Now both limbs were poisoned and the Dragon was left with the back pair. However, it still had wings, which it was starting to use.

With a quiet hiss, the spent token was ejected, and Asterios slammed another into its place. Just as his opponent’s torso began lifting itself off the ground, he swung his greatsword like a club, but out of the range of the blow. That didn’t stop the thousands of little arcs of pressurized wind from peppering his enemy’s membranes with so many slits and holes that they ripped to pieces with the next flap, causing the beast to thud back to the ground.

Making use of his own wings, Asterios soared into the sky, halting his advance above his foe, and touched the next crystal badge, already resting amidst the primed spells exactly for an opportunity like this one. The greatsword vibrated with energy, and then slipped out of Ast’s fingers. In the blink of an eye, the weapon pierced into the Dragon’s back and went right through its entire torso, slamming deep into the ground after coming out the other side.

Gravity Manipulation was no joke.

His spine severed, the patriarch could only whimper pathetically as Asterios unhurriedly stalked towards his head after descending to the ground before his eyes, his neck whipping around desperately as the last remaining limb capable of moving. Taking Ast’s slow approach as overconfidence, he didn’t even know how obvious he was preparing himself for the final reckless attack.

Huge draconic jaws thrust Ast’s way, twisted around so they could open vertically. A victorious keen resonated through the Dragon’s throat when they made contact with its target, just for its eyes to widen in shock as it realized that something had stopped them from closing. Unfortunately, from the current angle, all the poor blue patriarch could see was a few scaly fingers of a crimson shade holding onto the tip of its snout.

Asterios stood between the two ferocious jaws and wrinkled his nose at the stench coming from within his adversary. Not wishing to experience it for any longer, he reaffirmed his grip on the Dragon’s chin, digging his draconic claws into the protective plates. With one mighty tug, he tore it off with a loud ripping noise.

He didn’t appreciate the wail that hit him in the chest, so he twisted his opponent’s head upside down. Tossing the separated jaw aside, he raised his fist and punched through the roof of its mouth, breaking through the skull and right into the brain. All the noise died down immediately and the Dragon spasmed once more before going limp.

Stepping out of his deceased enemy’s fractured maw, Asterios flicked his palm back and forth, trying to clean his hand off the filthy remains with a disgusted face. Achieving a satisfactory result, he picked up his Spellslinger that he had shoved into the rocky terrain earlier and glanced around the battlefield in search of his partner. He had to admit, the legendary artifact weapon was quite handy against someone not used to its versatility.

It didn’t take long for him to spot Noir. All he had to do was find the biggest commotion and the direction from which the most azure True Dragons were fleeing. Or he could follow the maniacal laughter that echoed inside the dome he had raised over the nest. There were just so many options to choose from.

The fierce Dragon girl in her Battle Form was practically untouchable. Add a masterfully crafted all-powerful greatsword with a scythe-like fang at the end, and she was practically a goddess descended to the mortal realms.

A goddess of death, in this case.

Her vicious but also mesmerizing figure zipped around the blue hatchers like a black bolt of lightning, announcing its arrival with a thunderous flap of her wings. Wherever she went, limbs flew off, heads were chopped, torsos were mutilated, and lives were snuffed out like candle flames in the middle of a raging storm. There was no stopping her, and everyone seemed to realize that.

One courageous True Dragon thought he could intimidate her with his full form and stood on its hind legs, gathering flames inside its jaws. She grinned from ear to ear, her dark silver eyes twinkling with joy. Before the bold individual finished, there was a long metal spike embedded in its throat, one thrilled female holding onto the hilt of the greatsword attached to it.

With one powerful pull, she slid down the pitiful male’s thorax, slicing it open as the spike traveled south through his insides. It didn’t stop past his sternum, oh no. Reaching the ground, she kicked off it and dove under the Dragon, yanking her sword with her. Multiple people winced as they watched their companion get ripped into two from his chin to the very tip of his tail, unquestionably suffering a quite mean laceration to his masculine hoard on the way too.

Popping out from underneath the carcass, Noir was blasted with a combination of concentrated flaming streams, which lit up the inside of the dome with a cyan glow. A mad giggle came from the epicenter of the joint assault, and she soared out of the inferno, completely shrugging off the potent effort.

When she came crashing down, she chose to do so right on top of the head belonging to one of the breath collaborators, shutting down the stream inside their mouth. Before her prey halted the technique, she hooked the curved protrusion at the end of her sword under their long neck and leaned forward.

The next moment, she was charging along it in a spiral, the unbelievably sharp blade following suit. By the time she reached the unlucky Dragon’s shoulders, only something resembling a flesh spring with seared edges coiled around the spiral column was left behind her, cerulean tongues of fire continuing to escape through the gaps. Yet, the miserable bastard was still alive.

It definitely wished that it wasn’t.

Noir didn’t play around with the other three who had ganged up on her. She wasn’t happy with their cowardly tactics. Her blade beheaded them one after another, forcing the slowly dying first Dragon of the band to watch her slaughter its family. Then, she collected those heads and dropped them in front of the expiring foe. Soon after, she simply raised her foot and slammed her heel through its skull, finishing it off with a nasty crunch.

Over half of the nest was gone. About five azure True Dragons were left for them to kill. Seeing their rapidly deteriorating mental state, Asterios didn’t see any reason to join in. They were practically pissing themselves as they looked at the brutal female covered from top to bottom in the blood of their comrades, which she was currently tasting off her forearm with her long dark tongue.

One despairing guy tried to push through the dome, but his mind was struck with the horrors contained in it, too feeble to withstand the fear spell. His howl captured Noir’s attention, a sadistic smirk on her draconic lips. In a flash, she was upon him, pinning his bulky body to the ground. Standing atop his back, she grabbed one wing, slipped the metal fang beneath the stem, and slowly sawed through it as he fought inner demons, experiencing both physical and mental agony.

While she was going through the other stem, his brain shut down, his body twitching and reacting only from the assault on its muscles and nerves. Huffing in disappointment, she stabbed the spike into his skull and went on her way, four more enemies for her to play with waiting for their turn.

As the pair on the left was scrambling to get out of sight, the pair on the right pawed at each other to delay the other one from running away. That ultimately spelled doom for them faster than the other two. Suddenly, shadows shot out of the dark lines from Ast’s Dome of Dread that remained on the ground and bound the duo tightly. Their heads snapped to their assailant, who stood before them rather casually.

Snickering under her breath, Noir raised her greatsword, which was now emitting thick black mist, and drove it into the darkness next to her foot. Both True Dragons screeched when the shadows tying them up pulsed, and Asterios soon understood why when multiple streaks of blood ran down their bodies. Each time she jabbed her blade into the shaded spot, black spears penetrated deep into their flesh. With one last powerful thrust, they pierced completely through, turning the pair into a nightmarish hedgehog.

And a very dead hedgehog.

With no one else to turn to, the deadly girl brought her gleaming eyes to the final couple. It turned out to be a male and female, possibly an item. But, True Dragons didn’t seem to have the same inclination to defend their mate even into an honorable death as many other races did. The man was basically shoving his woman out as an offering, blabbering something about pity while whimpering sorrowfully.

Noir seemed to share Ast’s thoughts as she sneered at the guy while shoving the missus aside. He didn’t meet a painless end. Her crooked fang sank into his underbelly, and she twisted the blade one full circle. The statement was clear. If he had no balls to confront her, he didn’t need the pair down there. As he choked on his suffering, she beheaded him in one apathetic swing.

The woman was dealt with much quicker. One overhead swing later, and her head was in two equal pieces.

Asterios took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, releasing his hold on the dome. The crisis had been averted, even if the means used for that were quite frankly more than just gruesome. But the goal had been achieved, Lady Rhufija’s community was once more safe. All thanks to—

“Asterios!” Noir’s rather elated voice reached him from the side, and just as he turned towards her, the Dragon girl slammed into him, back to her humanoid figure. “That was awesome! I don’t remember when was the last time I had so much fun! This greatsword is amazing! It handles so well and even responds to my lineage! I love it!”

He stood there while she hugged him tightly, fairly sweet and cheerful giggles escaping her lips. Chuckling warmly too, he had to hold onto her or the fierce woman was going to topple them both with how jittery she was. That resulted in his hand resting on her back, and more precisely, on the smooth skin between her short jacket and her belt.

The soft stroke made Noir shiver, and she stilled momentarily. Asterios could sense the moment she realized what she was doing, the silence starting to stretch with her arms continuing to be wrapped around his neck and her front pressed flush against his. He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out the follow-up, so he was ready when she shoved him away with a snarl.

Growling quietly, she glared daggers at him, though her gaze had some trouble piercing right into his eyes, sometimes escaping aside. Her fingers raked through her wild hair to fix it as if it had been displaced by brushing against his, her grateful but blood-stained cheeks sporting a rosy tint underneath that scarlet liquid.

After all that, Asterios unfortunately wasn’t able to hold back his smile.

“Get that stupid smirk off your face!” Noir scowled and slugged him in the stomach.

Letting out a grunt, he tumbled backward a few times, laughter escaping him as he landed flat on his back. She was above him right away, and judging by her ever so slightly widened eyes, she hadn’t intended to hit him that hard. The proffered hand soon confirmed that notion.

Accepting the help, Asterios grasped Noir’s forearm and allowed himself to be pulled up, dusting off his clothes. He spotted a trace of anxiety worming its way into her gorgeous eyes and chuckled again.

“Don’t mind that. Deserved that one for getting distracted.” He grinned at her. “And, as you said, it’s nothing new to be somewhat restless after a good fight.”

She snorted, the faintest curl gracing the cusp of her lips.

“Glad you are happy with the sword, though.” Asterios glanced at the weapon sheathed in the ground further away from them. “The Spellsongs did a great job.”

Noir’s face brightened, and she extended her arm. Soon after, the ominous blade sailed through the air with a resounding thrum, slipping itself into her grasp.

“This thing is incredible. I thought I shared something with my other greatsword because I made it myself, but this… This is like the bond that the two of us…” She paused, turning her face to him, blinking in slight disbelief. “Are those… your scales? Did you pluck your own… to make this?”

“I knew you would notice right away.” Asterios slipped his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, the core is covered with my scales. The metal is actually Dragonsteel, which is like a class of alloy, and its properties depend on which metal is mixed with True Dragon blood. It usually needs to be extracted from a living specimen for the best results. There are various enchantments imbued into it, making it immensely powerful, durable, and reliable along with every quality your draconic energies can enhance.”

After his explanation, Noir looked taken aback, staring back at him totally stupefied.

“Ah, and there’s one special feature that’s currently locked up until you formally introduce yourself to its creators. Me vouching for you unfortunately isn’t enough for them to entrust so much power into the hands of someone who these babies had been invented to rival the might of.” He scratched his neck nervously. “I promised to leave the history lesson to them, so apologies for that.”

She was quiet for a while, and he worried she might be disappointed in him for concealing things after they decided to trust each other, but that wasn’t what she was stuck on.

“You used… your own blood and scales… and made them into… a weapon for me?” Noir asked little by little with the calmest tone she had ever assumed. “Then gifted it… without expecting anything in return?”

Ast’s brows furrowed with worry. “Shit. Was that something improper or offensive? Perhaps I should have asked, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Does this insult your bloodline or something? Is it—”

“It’s nothing!” Noir shouted, interrupting him.

She spun around to face the other way. All he could see was her holding the sword tightly to her chest, staying completely motionless. She definitely couldn’t let him see her face right now.

“It’s a great weapon…” Noir spoke quietly after a good deal of silence. “However, I’m a little sad I won’t be able to use it back at home…”

Asterios grunted in understanding. “Your mother would absolutely question you about where it came from. Or even recognize the materials right away. She certainly isn’t stupid. With these coming from me, they might even give off a somewhat similar aura.”

“Yeah.” Noir turned around, back to her usual sharp and badass expression. “But, I’m going to abuse every chance to wield it when I’m with you or the others. And I’m a bit curious about what you meant by that hidden feature.”

“We’ll get to that soon.” He offered her a knowing smile. “We have matters to finish before that.”

She roamed her gaze over the appalling remains littering the fatal battleground full of fresh corpses.

“If your people can make things from True Dragon parts, do you want to gather theirs?” Noir asked thoughtfully. “And are you going to try stealing their Dragon’s Hearts?”

“Let’s secure our hostages and check their well-being first.” Asterios followed her gaze, already thinking of the upcoming haul. “Then, it will be time to dig in.”