Chapter 527: One-on-One
“Roar—!”
“Conquer the Abyss! For the glory of the mighty Red Dragon—slaughter these abominations!”
“For the Empire! Kill them all!”
At that moment, the chilling cries of Abyssal Drakes and Demons were utterly drowned beneath the ferocious war cry of the Empire’s army. Dragon Riders brandished their longswords and spines-turned lances, mercilessly massacring the now-dazed, terrified Demons Knights. Purple-black blood erupted into the air in gouts, splattering the battlefield.
Meanwhile, Wyverns and Flame Wyverns tore into the far larger, fiercer Abyssal Drakes—pouncing atop them, clinging to their chests, and gnawing through their flesh with ravenous hunger.
“Roar～～”
The Abyssal Drakes instinctively wailed in pain.
But under the overwhelming aura of intimidation radiating from the hundreds of Kai Xiusu’s bloodline descendants, their flight grew unsteady, wobbling like drunken beasts. Rebellion was out of the question.
“Boom!”
“Boom! Boom!”
One Abyssal Drake after another plummeted from the sky, crashing into the mountainside with earth-shaking force, shattering rock and sending debris flying. Their corpses tumbled down the slopes, staining the hills with rivers of purple-black blood.
The Dragonfly Legion of the Empire continued their relentless dive, scattering the Abyssal Drake army like chaff. They landed at the base of the mountain, using the impact to cushion their descent. Then, harnessing the violent updrafts, they surged upward once more—soaring high into the sky, hundreds of meters above the earth.
“Victory!”
Alje stood atop his Giant Eagle, raising the Everburning Greatsword high. Light blazed from the blade, illuminating the heavens like a flare—piercing the phantom silhouette of the Red Dragon with a single, radiant eye.
He surveyed the writhing Abyssal Drakes below, his golden vertical pupils—symbols of noble bloodline—burning with unyielding determination.
The Dragon Riders echoed in a frenzy, their cries rising like a tidal wave. Lances bristled like a forest, and the crimson banner of the Empire fluttered proudly in the high winds.
“Victory! Victory!”
“Long Live the Empire!”
Wyverns and Flame Wyverns regrouped above, beating their wings in unison, forming a crimson regiment of clouds. Yet this time, their bond—rooted in shared bloodline—was undeniable. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, every wingbeat resonating with the same rhythm, as if carved from a single mold.
“Roar—!”
The two-headed dragons and other wyverns opened their massive, blood-filled maws. Their roars merged into a deep, echoing Dragon Roar that reverberated across the valley.
Below, the Abyssal Drake army lay in ruins after their last charge. Nearly forty percent had fallen. The Demon cavalry was annihilated—formation shattered, morale broken.
Now, the surviving Abyssal Drakes lifted their heads. Their pure black eyes reflected the image of the Red Dragon, their bodies trembling. From deep within their throats came low, fearful whimpers.
“Gurgle…”
Though born of the Abyss—a twisted fusion of Red Dragon, Wyvern, and Demonic essence—these beasts still carried the blood of dragons deep in their veins. Ancient dragon blood coursed through their bodies, a legacy spanning thousands of years. Even after eons, the rank of bloodline could not be denied.
Almost all Abyssal Drakes trembled, whimpered, and recoiled in terror—facing the approaching Ember Dragon Horde.
At last, the largest Abyssal Drake, its eyes aflame with bloodlust, snapped. It roared—a deafening, chaotic bellow that echoed like wind through a canyon, spewing thick, foul saliva from its jaws.
This was the Chieftain of the Abyssal Drake army, its demonic bloodline the most potent. For centuries, it had roamed the wilds of the Abyss, devouring any Demon or intruder that dared cross its path—even weaker kin.
Abyssal Drakes brought only fear to the world. They would never, ever become prey.
Its dark-red, scaled hide bristled with venomous spines, covering its massive twenty-meter frame. Powerful bat-like wings flapped with a sound like a bellows pumping fire. It stretched its neck, issuing a long, defiant roar—challenging the entire Dragon Horde.
High above, Alje smirked.
“Hmph. Foolish beast. It’ll regret this.”
But before he could react, a roar erupted from the Ember Dragon Horde—urgent, hungry, pulsing with battle fervor.
“Roar—!”
A massive figure burst from the ranks, soaring past the Wyverns and Flame Wyverns.
It was the Chieftain of the Wyverns—Smaug.
A being granted a name by the Emperor himself. A status equal to a Marquis of Empire Dragon Blood.
Smaug unfurled his wings, spread his arms wide, and displayed his noble, powerful frame with pride. Then, he lowered his head, glancing down at the Abyssal Drake with disdain. His golden vertical pupils gleamed with sarcasm. He even flicked his claw, taunting.
Though slightly smaller than the Abyssal Drake—still towering at twenty meters—Smaug was far more solid. Where the Abyssal Drake looked gaunt, emaciated, Smaug’s body was thick with muscle, every sinew and tendon coiled with raw strength. His torso, limbs, and tail were thick with bulging, armored muscle—reminiscent of a mature Red Dragon.
Only his two feet betrayed his true nature.
Alje shook his head, chuckling.
“Still as reckless as ever, that brute.”
“Commander,” one of his subordinates asked, “what shall we do?”
Alje smiled calmly.
“Let’s enjoy the show.”
Duels between dragon-kind were matters of honor. Interference was impolite. And Alje had absolute faith in the Wyvern Chieftain.
“Roar—!”
Enraged, the Abyssal Drake roared again, flapping its tattered wings with a violent windstorm. It charged at the Two-Headed Dragon Chieftain with furious intent.
Smaug answered with a long, proud roar. Then, wings spread, tail tucked tight, he dove—unstoppable, relentless.
A hurricane of intense heat clashed with a stench so foul it choked the air.
At just a hundred meters apart, both beasts opened their maws in unison—spewing their signature breaths.
The Abyssal Drake unleashed a torrent of black-red fire laced with Chaos energy.
Smaug countered with a torrent of flame so fierce it rivaled that of a mature Red Dragon—charged with the divine power of the Emperor of the Ashen Flame.
“Boom!”
The two blasts collided midair in a dazzling explosion. Dark red and crimson fire twisted together in a chaotic storm of fireballs, blinding in their intensity.
In the next instant, they twisted their heads, using their breath to strike each other’s wings.
Smaug’s flame burned through the Abyssal Drake’s wing membrane, searing a massive hole.
The Abyssal Drake retaliated, lunging forward with its black-red Abyssal fire—aimed at Smaug’s wing.
But Smaug was strong—unnaturally so. His muscles bulged, veins popping on his neck and shoulders. With sheer power, he twisted his single wing, unleashing a hurricane of heat that spun his body midair—just enough to dodge the blast.
Meanwhile, the Abyssal Drake wobbled in the air, its massive frame unbalanced. The torn wing flapped erratically, wind howling through the gaping hole.
Smaug didn’t hesitate.
With a triumphant roar, he spread his wings and dove again.
“Roar—!”
The Abyssal Drake fired volley after volley of black-red fire, hoping to disrupt Smaug’s attack.
But Smaug danced through the flames with effortless grace—lateral rolls, mid-air twists—avoiding every blast. Then, he returned fire with a full regiment of his own fireballs.
In just a few breaths, he closed the distance.
“Roar! Roar!”
The Wyvern cawed in euphoria, claws outstretched, accelerating toward its prey. Its sharp talons gleamed, drawing ever closer.
The Abyssal Drake’s eyes flickered with cunning. It feigned retreat—then, at the last moment, whipped its tail—covered in clawed spines—into Smaug’s side.
Shriiiink!
The spines tore through scales, embedding deep into the Wyvern’s flesh, injecting a potent toxin.
“Roar—!”
Smaug howled in pain—but the toxin did not paralyze him. Instead, it fueled his rage.
The poison was from Wyverns—both creatures had built up resistance to it.
Smaug’s eyes burned with fire. With a ferocious grip, he clamped his claw onto the Abyssal Drake’s wing, forcing it toward the mountain ahead.
“Boom!”
The two beasts collided with a thunderous crash, slamming into the cliffside. Locked in a brutal, bloody melee.
Though smaller, Smaug’s body—pulsing with Red Dragon blood—was far stronger. He pinned the Abyssal Drake beneath him, tearing at its flesh with his teeth, biting deep into its neck. Dark-red scales ripped open, revealing deep, glistening meat.
The Abyssal Drake screamed in agony. Its violet-black blood, thick and corrosive, sprayed across Smaug’s body.
It thrashed, whipping its tail, lashing Smaug’s legs. Claws raked across the Two-Headed Dragon’s head. It opened its maw wide—preparing to unleash a final, deadly Abyssal Flame.
But strength overpowered everything.
Smaug pinned its neck with his right claw, silencing it. No breath. No sound.
With his left claw, he tore open the wound—ripping it wide across the chest, then plunging his claws deep into the creature’s internal organs, twisting, tearing, shredding.
The Abyssal Drake convulsed, struggling—but it had no strength left.
Wyverns were typically lean, built for speed. But Smaug was different. He had undergone multiple Dragon Blood Blessings. His body was armored with dense muscle—far stronger than any ordinary dragon.
Finally, Smaug grinned fiercely. He lowered his head, opened his jaws wide—biting the slender neck—and crushed with every ounce of strength.
Crack!
Bone shattered.
The Abyssal Drake writhed once—then went still. Its head slumped sideways. Its wings, once mighty, now lay limp.
Its gaze dimmed. A foul odor poured from its body. Saliva and blood dripped from its mouth.
Dead.
The apex predator of the Abyss—dragon that fed on Demons—had been slain in the Prime Material Plane. Humiliated. Crushed.
Smaug stood atop the corpse, his massive feet planted firmly on the head of the fallen beast. He spread his wings in triumph, letting out a euphoric, echoing roar—his voice a declaration of power to the entire world.
Below, the remaining Abyssal Drakes stared at the corpse still radiating heat. Panic gripped them. Leaderless. Broken.
They had witnessed the death of their mightiest Chieftain—the one who had devoured countless Demons and kin. Even seven or eight common dragons together couldn’t have bested it.
And now, in their own eyes, a Wyvern—so powerful it defied belief—had slaughtered their Chieftain in a duel. Then stood on its head in mockery.
It was horrifying.
In their terror, the Abyssal Drakes scattered—fleeing in every direction, screaming in panic, flapping their wings wildly toward the Abyssal Portal.
But they were not safe.
High above, the Ember Dragon Horde still loomed—hungry, relentless.
Alje lowered his head, staring at the fleeing silhouettes. A smile curled on his lips.
“Do they think the Empire is some place they can come and go as they please?”
“Since they chose to step onto our land—ignorant fools—they must pay the price.”
Slowly, Alje raised his longsword, the blade pointing like a finger toward the fleeing beasts.
“Kill them all. Every last one. Slaughter the Crawlers from the Abyss!”
In the Ember Dragon Horde, every Wyvern, Flame Wyvern, and Crimson Scale Conqueror’s eyes lit up—especially the Players.
To them, these Abyssal Drakes weren’t enemies. They were free loot. Free gold.
They knew well: when an enemy exposed its back, the cavalry struck hardest. And now—no matter how powerful the foe—its fate was sealed.
“Charge!”
“For the Empire!”
“Kill every Abyssal Drake!”
“Roar—!”
With a thunderous roar, hundreds of Wyverns and Flame Wyverns dove like a crimson tidal wave, engulfing the fleeing monsters.
One by one, massive, twisted corpses fell from the sky, crashing into the wasteland below—forming endless, filthy blood pits.
The Abyssal Drake army—once a secret weapon of the Demons—was now utterly annihilated.
(End of Chapter)
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