Around chapter 666, during the season of the “Summer Spirit Festival.”
“That is why I cannot go with you!”
With those words, the silver dragon beat the air with her massive wings and kicked off from the mountain peak with her powerful legs. Her name was Leila. Upon receiving this departure, the black dragon Lyra left her master, her best friend, and the friend who had become a servant—Maya—to the latter, and rose to intercept her in the sky.
“Diane… I leave the two of them to you.”
Dragons, meeting dragons. Those who had each become the final guardians of their master’s world. Harboring a deep sense of empathy while burning with the pride of being the strongest, the black dragon Lyra let out a roar and slammed her dark, massive frame against the silver colossus ascending from below at an unhesitating speed.
”…A dream, then.”
Lyra muttered softly. Dragons do not sleep. There is no need for sleep. This is what most other races believe, and it is close to the truth. Life is not hindered by a lack of sleep, and one can rest while standing, sitting, or even while flying through the sky. Even when they do sleep, it does not take long. Whether they drift off for a few minutes or up to an hour, they wake quickly. It is not a biological drive like the human need for sleep; it might be closer to the sensation of “daydreaming” or “spacing out” for a human. However, for a dragon, this was a vital part of self-exploration. For a dragon possessing power so great that nothing in the physical world could resist it, surrendering one’s consciousness to the darkness to sense what lies beyond was of great importance. To dream was one method; to experience the moment the ego dissolved within one’s own being without dreaming was another. These were regarded as secretly vital processes for objectively assessing the value of one’s own existence.
“Are you reminiscing about your own glorious exploits…? Even I… am still so base.”
During the violent collision, scales from both sides shattered and scattered like snow. A dragon’s armor, which is difficult for even human strength to wound, provides little protection against a collision between two dragons. However, beneath that armor lies muscle possessing unimaginable power, the bones that support it, and, above all, a miraculous regenerative healing factor that works even as one watches. In the hierarchy of a dragon’s strength, scales are merely a fraction of the whole. The two beasts were repelled by the impact. Lyra was bounced upward again, like a ball striking the ground, while Leila was driven straight downward by the force of gravity. In aerial combat, attacking from above is inherently advantageous. Yet, Leila knew this.
“How insolent.”
Lyra dove relentlessly toward the silver dragon, who had barely avoided a fatal crash into the earth. In terms of sheer physical durability, the advantage lay with herself, a fire dragon. To meet the attack from below, even as a display of resolve, was foolish. Lyra unleashed her frustration through the strike. Leila avoided it by skimming the ground, maintaining her terminal velocity until the last possible moment and kicking off the earth. The black dragon’s claws gouged deep into the mountainside. However—
“Do you think that caught me?”
Using her claws, which were embedded in the earth, as a pivot, Lyra swung her entire body in a semi-circle to land. She immediately sprinted with the agility of a beast, catching the wobbling Leila—who had lost stability from using the ground for leverage—and pounced, slamming her to the ground this time for certain. When it comes to rapid acceleration, pushing off the earth is naturally faster than pushing through the soft air. Of course, a dragon other than Lyra might not have been able to transition so abruptly from the sensation of a soaring bird to that of a sprinting beast.
“I have you.” “Not yet.”
Leila braced all four limbs, leaping to take to the sky once more.
However, Lyra seized that tail and, with her wings still folded, swung herself around in a lateral rotation to wrap it around the beast, slamming the silver dragon into the ground once more, crushing it as she overran it.
The wasteland, where two massive bodies of sixty meters each clashed, continued to tremble from the impact.
Yet, Lyra’s two successive slams had not yet become effective blows against Leila. In a battle between dragons possessing such superior regenerative abilities, a fight does not end simply by inflicting a wound or two. Since these blows hadn’t even reached the level of deep wounds, this was nothing more than a warm-up.
“You took off with such bravado, yet when faced with the real thing, you do nothing but flee.”
“Hardly… Black Dragon, I shall have you fall for the sake of my master.”
“Hah!”
Leila severed her own tail. As the silver dragon escaped amidst a spray of blood, Lyra—having regained her footing this time—soared powerfully into the sky while her tail regenerated, unleashing a Blizzard Breath.
“Nngh!”
Dragon breath of the same species is ineffective against dragons. However, for Lyra, a fire dragon, ice is an opposing element; while she could endure it better than most species, it was not entirely harmless.
Before her very eyes, her frozen limbs began to lose their strength. For an ordinary race, it would have been far worse—the cold was intense enough to shred their very tissues in an instant.
But the same applied to her opponent.
“Do not underestimate me,” Lyra muttered, releasing her own flames.
The fire exhaled from her maw caused the rapidly frozen world to expand and explode. The moisture that had instantly condensed in the atmosphere turned back into steam within the scorching hellscape, enveloping the space between the two dragons in a thick, white shroud of smoke.
Since the damage from the freezing could not be erased simply by warming the area, Lyra poured her own vitality into the recovery process as she pursued Leila through the sky.
This time, Leila took the high ground.
Ice dragons tend to excel in flight. Had she calculated that she wouldn’t lose to Lyra if she could maintain a proper position in the air?
But Lyra mocked that very thought as she gave chase.
“Did you think this Lyra was merely a common fire dragon, a mere black dragon?”
The reason ice dragons are considered strong in the sky is not due to physical prowess, but because their perception—their ability to sense wind currents and atmospheric changes—is relatively superior. It is a vital ability for long-distance flight, where slight differences accumulate into massive advantages.
However, if the matter is simply flying fast and maneuvering one’s body, that is a different story.
Lyra forced herself to fly with extreme speed, outstripping Leila’s movements.
“Kh!”
“I shall praise your cunning attempt to maneuver and win. However…”
One of Lyra’s claw strikes pierced Leila’s abdomen.
”…The essence of a dragon is violence. Without the madness to push through with one’s true nature and overpower the impossible, how could one ever force their will upon the world?”
“You speak as if you know…”
“I have seen miracles. I have continued to see them.”
Lyra took Leila’s counterattack upon her own body, even as she drove in another strike to inflict damage. Before they fell to the earth, the two parted, continuing their conversation—which, to an outsider, would sound like nothing but roars—as they scattered blood and scales.
“To attract something worthy of being called a miracle, rather than a mere coincidence, that way is insufficient. Not if you cannot transcend yourself even when prepared for the worst.”
“It doesn’t have to be a miracle. I… whatever I can do…”
“I shall cause miracles. We shall cause miracles. Regardless of what happens to you, we follow Andy Swamson.”
Once again, the two collided.
Straight, at the same altitude, head-on.
And in that moment, the difference in power became unmistakable.
The silver dragon was clearly overwhelmed by the black dragon’s power, sent reeling by the impact.
“If you intend to die by your fate, so be it. One of your caliber could never hope to defeat me. This will be an easy battle.”
“Don’t you dare talk down to me!”
Layla steadied herself, resisting the black dragon as it hovered arrogantly above. She swung her claws, capable of easily blowing away stone houses, and lunged with fangs that could swallow a horse in a single bite, fighting desperately to bring Layla crashing to the ground. However, Layla’s claws struck faster; she parried the biting fangs with a hardened fist, and as she recoiled from the heat of a fire breath searing her face at point-blank range, a spinning strike from Layla’s tail sent her plummeting to the earth once more. As the silver dragon leaped, shaking the very ground, Layla accelerated from the air in a descent, bringing both her hind legs down in a stomp intended to gouge Layla’s neck and flank. Yet, even then, Layla rose, healing her wounds as she did so.
“I… I’m not retreating yet!”
“Very well, then.”
In an instant, they parted. Transitioning from a frantic dash to a leap launched from her forelegs, Layla unleashed a diagonal tail strike. Layla met the attack with a full-body tackle. The silver dragon’s body was lifted off the ground and sent rolling.
“My turn.”
Layla pursued the rolling silver dragon, mimicking her own previous technique with a tail attack. The strike swung horizontally landed a clean hit, sending Layla flying back with such force it was almost rhythmic. And yet. Even then, Layla stood back up to challenge the black dragon. It wasn’t that the attacks weren’t working. It wasn’t that she couldn’t reach him. She relied on that. As if in prayer.
”…Or perhaps, I couldn’t help but think that their way of life… was quite fascinating for a dragon. No.” Layla scratched her head, then looked around and smiled. “In the end, battle is nothing more than a dull instinct. This is better.” The sight of women looking so happy, cradled in the arms of their masters. She wondered, for a moment, if that dragon knew such joy.