Ch.1287Bolt from the blue

Haschal and Garmerlic had left the battlefield to begin their private duel, and the situation below the fortress gradually turned unfavorable for the allied forces.

This was the natural progression. When your fallen comrades revived as enemies the next moment, the longer the battle dragged on, the wider the gap in forces would become.

That’s why the allied forces had chosen an extreme strategy of short-term decisive battle.

While the main force desperately held off the enemy legion in a head-on clash, the two ancient dragons would destroy Agnita Fortress, and Haschal would defeat Garmerlic.

Since the undead army’s strength heavily depended on the fortress’s support and their leader’s power, losing both would significantly reduce not only their morale but their actual combat effectiveness.

If the dragons and Haschal rejoined the battlefield afterward, victory would be all but guaranteed.

However, battle plans always turn to scraps of paper the moment combat begins.

“Huff, haah…! Damn, this is getting tough to handle…!”

Because Haschal and Garmerlic’s fight had dragged on far longer than expected, the allied forces were forced into a war of attrition with poor odds, desperately hanging on.

“When is that woman coming back anyway?”

“How would I know? Be thankful that Garmerlic hasn’t returned yet!”

The ferocity with which they had pierced the enemy lines like a wedge had long since faded.

The half-human, half-demon Ain warriors, specialized in breakthrough tactics, had suffered heavy casualties and fled after getting bogged down in the chaotic melee. The werebeasts who had been holding out with their regenerative abilities were falling one by one, only to rise again as undead.

The winged Ain had been swept away by the fortress’s aerial forces and artillery fire, falling from the sky in droves. Now only the two dragons remained in the air, continuing the fight.

【 KRAAAAAAAAA—! 】

【 GYAOOOOO! 】

A tremendous sound erupted with their roars. The breath attacks unleashed by Bishaf and Balaur penetrated Agnita Fortress’s defensive wall, scattering and sweeping through the interior.

A storm of lightning struck the mana cannons’ barrels, burning out their internal circuits, while streams of five-colored light crushed the floating island’s foundation, scattering broken rocks onto the ground below.

It was destruction on a scale befitting a dragon’s breath.

【 Krrrr… It’s more sturdy… than I imagined. 】

However, the floating island was so massive that even direct hits from their breath attacks could only destroy small portions. They still had a long way to go before collapsing the fortress itself.

【 Ha, if only Krackbabel were here…! 】

Balaur’s irritation and hostility were directed at his kin who had not shown up.

The primary tactics of Krackbabel, the Erupting Volcano and Explosive Dragon, involved unleashing meteor showers of fire and rock, along with ultra-high-temperature breath attacks that caused massive explosions.

Both were specialized attacks for destroying terrain features like islands or fortresses. Had he participated in the war, destroying Agnita Fortress would not have been particularly difficult.

【 That cunning bastard, to think he’d back out now. I wonder what he’s plotting… 】

But Krackbabel had refused to participate, using his injuries from the battle with the giants as an excuse—despite the fact that he could have easily recovered from such wounds.

The reason remained unknown.

Perhaps he didn’t want to waste his strength on a war that offered him little benefit, or maybe he judged it a battle with poor odds and decided to save himself.

Or perhaps, while they were engaged in this bloody battle, he was planning something wicked and vicious elsewhere… such a sinister scheme.

Well, what did the reason matter? Only the result was important.

Krackbabel’s absence had significantly delayed the capture of Agnita Fortress, and the burden of dealing with the consequences fell entirely on the other two dragons.

【 GRRR… When this battle ends, I will certainly find him and ask. What injury could possibly be so severe that he dumped all responsibility on us. 】

Thus, Balaur vowed to find and kill Krackbabel after winning this war.

It was around that time.

– BOOM!

Something like a blood-red comet crashed into the upper part of Agnita Fortress, instantly blowing away a third of the floating island.

—-

【 What…?! 】

Such sudden support—or intrusion. The two dragons flinched in shock and reflexively flapped their wings backward to create distance.

【 Has that woman returned? But this power is… 】

Balaur muttered suspiciously, staring at the human-sized silhouette slowly rising from the thick cloud of dust.

– KWAOOOOO!

Immediately after, crimson mist erupted like a volcano.

【 No, that’s not her! 】

Bishaf, who had been staring intently through the dust cloud like Balaur, trembled in shock and folded his wings.

【 This, this ominous divinity is…! 】

He knew it. The identity of the ominous divinity leaking from within that dust cloud.

It was the source and essence of the power called Karma of Murder. A manifestation of an evil god born from the addition of chaotic malice to divinity achieved through endless slaughter.

The divinity of the God of Slaughter, the wolf that would devour the sky.

【 Vanir…gand…? 】

The crimson nebula-shaped monster possessing that divinity.

The avatar of Vanirgand, the awakened Thousand Murder Star, was there.

【 …… 】

With eyes burning blue, it stared at them with a ghostly gaze overflowing with hunger and desire.

The moment their eyes met.

– KWANG!

Vanirgand leaped toward them. As violently as a volcano, with lightning-like speed.

【 Balaur! Dodge! 】

Bishaf, who had recognized its identity, immediately dove to avoid it, while Balaur, whose recognition came too late, hesitated for a moment.

The fate of the two dragons diverged there.

– GOOOOO…!

In the blink of an eye, Balaur’s entire field of vision was suddenly covered by something ominous and terrible.

【 Give it to me. All of you. 】

The red nebula-like evil god had already reached him before he could even recognize it. Its blood-red left arm with raised claws cast a massive shadow over Balaur’s head.

It was incomprehensible fear itself.

【 This is— 】

His field of vision narrowed extremely, perceived time stretched endlessly.

Under the bizarre pressure that prevented him from moving even a single scale, something chilling ran down his spine and raced through his blood vessels like ice.

Fear.

Captivated by an emotion he had never felt in his long life, Balaur simply stared blankly at that left hand. The divine claw that would end his life.

【 What on…? 】

A single utterance, whether of shock or lamentation. Before that death rattle could even be completed.

——!

Balaur’s head was ripped off along with his cervical spine.

Not by a curse, nor by divine power, not even by a slash, but simply crushed by an inconceivably massive force and speed.

Like an insect.

【 Guaa…? aah, geooooc…. 】

The roughly torn neck stump emitted a bizarre groan, spewing black blood like a waterfall.

A fatal wound with no chance of recovery. Balaur’s consciousness was already severed. Just like his life.

Wings losing strength and going limp, limbs trembling then stiffening. The headless body convulsed like a shot bird and fell helplessly.

That was the end of the ancient dragon Balaur, who had coveted divinity and killed many demigods. A pathetically futile death.

—-

– WHOOOOSH…!

A massive sound of air displacement accompanied the fall of the enormous chunk of meat.

Vanirgand, covered in Balaur’s blood, stretched his arm toward the dead dragon’s corpse with a satisfied smirk. His right arm, which held a faded sword like a wedge, in place of his left arm that had disappeared in the explosive recoil from the strike that killed Balaur.

– KWAHAAAK!

The red energy covering his right arm surged greatly, then extended like a river to envelop Balaur’s corpse.

The dragon’s body stopped abruptly as if caught by a rope. Similarly, the mangled head was fixed in mid-air.

Vanirgand, who had captured what ‘was’ Balaur, smiled softly and opened his ‘mouth’ wide.

– Crunch. Crunch. CRUNCH!

The sound of crushing something as hard as rock. The red nebula covering Balaur’s corpse twisted, surged, and compressed.

As if devouring, digesting, and eliminating something within it.

The next moment, with a wet, squelching sound, a black arm sprouted from Vanirgand’s left shoulder socket.

An inhuman left arm covered in scales like a dragon’s, adorned with sharp horns and spines, with hook-like claws at the fingertips.

And as that arm became enveloped in the red energy—

– CRRRACK!

The clearly inhuman left arm writhed bizarrely, twisting in all directions before being compressed as if its surface was being scraped away, transforming into a shape closer to a human arm.

No, not just the left arm.

– CRACK! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

Emitting a series of spine-chilling rupturing sounds, Vanirgand’s entire body bizarrely swelled, twisted, and compressed again and again.

To transform into a vessel sufficient to contain the power of his prey—Balaur—and the divinity the dragon had refused to let go of.

Devouring enemies to steal their power, then adapting his body to the stolen power, simultaneously guiding both soul and flesh to a higher level. That was the essence of predation.

The stolen dragon’s blood mixed with the wolf’s blood and blazed.