Boom!
Muria shifted his body slightly, evading a sword thrust aimed at his chest. The blade narrowly missed, grazing the scales on his flank and sparking faint trails of gold and crimson. In return, Muria extended his claw with a casual motion.
Boom!
The towering dragon hunter, despite his impressive physique and advanced equipment, was sent flying by the strike. The impact created a sonic boom as the hunter crashed into a jagged boulder, sending shards of rock scattering.
The young man's body half-sunk into the boulder, his torso screaming with fiery pain while the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and nose.
"Victor! Are you alright?" Concerned voices echoed through the sealed helmets of his comrades.
"Cough, I'm fine. I won't die," Victor rasped, though he could barely summon the strength to stand. "But I'm out. Watch yourselves—don't let that dragon touch you. There's something off about it."
No sooner had he spoken than a familiar figure was flung violently next to him, carving a seven- or eight-meter furrow in the dirt before coming to a stop.
"I told you to be careful! How did you get hit so fast?" Victor asked, recognizing his teammate.
"You think I wanted this?" the other hunter retorted with a bitter laugh. "If not for this exoskeleton, my chest would've been caved in completely. That dragon... it's not normal. Just moments ago, it looked like we were about to kill it, and now it's... like a different creature entirely."
"Feels like it swapped personalities," Victor muttered.
"What, like split personality disorder?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Dragons don't get human mental illnesses."
"How can you be so sure?"
As the two injured hunters exchanged banter, the battle raged on. However, as time passed and more of their comrades were incapacitated by the dragon, the pair grew visibly uneasy.
"What's wrong with everyone? Why is no one lasting more than one hit?"
"They all seemed so capable during training, but now they're folding like wet paper."
"You two are no better! Talking big when you were the first ones downed."
The heated arguments among the hunters didn't change the outcome. One by one, the remaining combatants fell, each succumbing to the relentless onslaught of the black-scaled dragon.
Muria struck down the last hunter brave enough to engage him in close combat. His final blow pierced through the man's exoskeleton, leaving behind a crimson trail on the rocky ground.
The first death silenced the battlefield. A heavy pall fell over the hunters as they realized the stark reality of their situation: this wasn't a training exercise where failure was an option. This was life or death, and the cost of failure was all too real.
"So that's it."
Muria's claw peeled back the shattered remnants of his latest opponent's armor. Beneath, he found a youthful, almost boyish face. It was all he needed to understand the truth.
"They're just students," Muria muttered, an air of disdain in his voice. "No wonder their combat tactics are so amateurish."
From a distance, the surviving hunters watched in horror as Muria casually examined their fallen comrade.
"The dragon's going to eat Owen's body! Damn it! We've failed the mission, and now we can't even retrieve his remains!"
"We need to call for help from the instructors. We're outmatched!"
"Agreed!"
Crunch!
The sound of twisting, grinding metal echoed across the battlefield as Muria tore apart the exoskeleton, examining its structure with interest. Then, to the shock of the hunters, he raised the broken armor to his mouth and began chewing.
"He's eating the armor?!" a young hunter exclaimed, his voice trembling.
"Eirenium alloy steel... chewed like candy? That's not in the textbooks!"
"Neither is this 'second state' nonsense. They never mentioned anything like it during lessons."
"I feel like everything we learned at the academy is a lie."
As Muria gnawed on the exoskeleton's high-grade alloy, he listened closely to the hunters' conversations. The mention of "instructors," "missions," and "academy" piqued his interest.
Though his consciousness had only just awakened in this world, Muria quickly pieced together a few critical details. This fragment of the cluster world hosted both dragons and an advanced humanoid civilization. The two were clearly at odds, and dragons seemed to be on the losing side.
The specialized anti-dragon weapons wielded by the hunters made it obvious that humans had invested heavily in countering dragons' natural advantages. Moreover, the presence of an academy dedicated to training dragon hunters implied a systematic, large-scale effort to subdue dragonkind.
"Tsk. Such a promising starting point, yet dragons have been reduced to this? Either humanity here is terrifyingly strong, or the dragons are hopelessly incompetent."
"Fascinating. A particularly unique ancient dragon species," a voice interrupted Muria's musings.
A figure in a white lab coat descended gracefully from the sky, stepping on invisible platforms. The man looked down at Muria, his gaze analytical and detached.
"Little dragon, I know you understand me. Surrender now, and I can spare your life. You have significant research value."
"Dragon-blooded?" Muria's golden eye narrowed as he examined the man. Though outwardly human, the man's body radiated a faint draconic aura. It was diluted, tightly controlled, and carefully contained within specific limits.
"You're curious about me?" The man noticed Muria's scrutinizing gaze and smirked.
"I am," Muria admitted, his voice laced with genuine intrigue. "I'd like to study you."
"Ha! Typical arrogance of an ancient dragon species," the instructor scoffed. "It seems only brute force will bring you to heel."
"Brute force? Against me?" Muria couldn't help but smirk. This situation was starting to amuse him. Was this what it felt like to "play the fool" and lure others into underestimating you?
The instructor raised a hand, summoning blades of wind imbued with the power of his draconic blood.
"Gale Fang!"
The blades screamed through the air toward Muria.
"Wind? Against me?" Muria muttered disdainfully. He made no effort to dodge.
The moment the wind blades approached, they faltered, losing their sharpness and direction. The very essence of the wind obeyed a higher authority: Muria himself.
Gentle gusts swirled protectively around the injured black dragon. Muria's golden eye locked onto the stunned instructor above, his gaze tinged with mockery.
"This is going to be fun."
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.