Around chapter 666, during the “Summer Spirit Festival."
"That is why I cannot go with you!”
The silver dragon declared this before beating her mighty wings against the air and kicking down the rocky mountain peak with her powerful legs.
Her name was Leila.
And the black dragon Laila accepted this, entrusting her master, her best friend, and the friend who had become her servant to the following Mia for protection.
”Dyane… I leave them in your care.”
Dragon against dragon.
And those who had defined themselves as the world’s final guardians of their masters.
With empathy in their hearts and the pride that they were the strongest burning within, the black dragon Laila roared and slammed her own massive black form into the silver giant rising from below at an unhesitant speed.
”…A dream, then.”
Laila murmured softly.
Dragons do not sleep. They need not sleep.
Most other races believe this. And it is close to the truth.
They can live without sleep, and they can rest standing, sitting, or even while flying through the sky.
The time needed for sleep is also not long. Even if they do sleep, they awaken in a matter of minutes, at most an hour.
It is not driven by a desire to sleep. It might be akin to what humans call “spacing out.”
But for dragons, it was also something precious—a form of self-discovery.
For a dragon with power so great that nothing in this world could surpass it, and who could do as they pleased without hindrance, surrendering their consciousness to the darkness and sensing what lay beyond was an important thing.
To dream was one thing, and to feel the moment their sense of self vanished without dreaming was another. It was secretly considered an important process for objectively assessing the value of oneself.
”Are you longing for memories of your glorious deeds…? Even I am still so shallow.”
The violent collision shattered scales from both sides, sending them scattering.
A dragon’s hide, impervious to even human weaponry, offers little protection in a clash between dragons.
But beneath it lies unimaginable strength in their muscles, the bones that support them, and above all, the astonishing regenerative power that heals them in an instant.
Scales are but a small part of a dragon’s strength.
The two beasts rebounded from the impact.
Laila was sent back into the sky as if a ball had bounced off the ground, while Leila was driven downward by gravity.
Attacking from above is still advantageous in aerial combat. But Leila was well aware of this.
”Pathetic.”
The silver dragon barely avoided crashing into the ground, and Laila mercilessly dove down to attack.
In terms of physical resilience, she had the advantage as a fire dragon. To meet her attack from below, even as a show of defiance, was foolish.
Laila hammered that frustration into her.
Leila evaded the heavy blow by deliberately maintaining near-fall velocity, skimming just above the ground and kicking off the earth to change direction.
The black dragon’s claws gouged deeply into the mountain face. But—
“Did you think that would hold me?”
Laila used the claw she had driven into the ground as a pivot, swinging her entire body in an arc to land, then immediately sprinted with the agility of a beast, not missing Leila as she staggered from using the ground mid-flight, and leaped to finally slam her down to earth.
A sudden burst of speed was naturally faster than flying by pushing against the soft air—kicking off the ground was quicker.
Though, for any dragon other than Laila, the transition from the sensation of a bird taking to the sky to that of a beast racing across the land might not have been possible so abruptly.
“Got you!"
"Not yet.”
Laila stretched her four legs, leaped, and tried to soar back into the sky.
But Laila grabbed her tail, folded her wings, and spun sideways, wrapping herself around the silver dragon, slamming her down again, crushing her beneath her weight before surging over her.
The wasteland where these two sixty-meter giants clashed continued to tremble from the impact.
Yet even Laila’s twice-repeated blows had not yet been effective against Laila.
A battle between dragons with superior recovery wouldn’t end after inflicting wounds just twice or thrice. This was merely a warm-up, far from causing any serious harm.
“So eager to take flight, yet when the moment comes, you only flee."
"Impossible… Black Dragon, I shall have you fall for my master."
"Hoh?”
Laila severed her own tail. The silver dragon fled, scattering blood, but now readjusted, she took to the sky powerfully while regenerating her tail and unleashed a Blizzard Breath.
“Nyuu!”
Dragon breath has no effect on its own kind. But for Laila, the fire dragon, ice—her opposite element—wasn’t entirely harmless. She could endure it better than ordinary races, but it still affected her.
Her limbs froze instantly, losing strength. For a normal race, that would be the end of them. The cold was enough to shred their tissues in an instant.
But the same applied to Laila.
“Don’t underestimate me.”
Laila muttered, unleashing her flames.
The fire she spewed expanded and exploded through the rapidly frozen world.
Water vapor instantly condensed from the air, turning back into scorching steam, enveloping the space between the two dragons in a white smoke screen.
Simply warming the frozen damage wasn’t enough to erase it, so Laila poured her own vitality into healing it while chasing after Laila in the sky.
This time, Laila gained the upper hand.
Ice dragons tend to have superior flight capabilities. Perhaps she believed that if she could establish a proper stance in the air, she wouldn’t lose to Laila.
But Laila scoffed as she pursued her.
“Did you think this Laila was just some fire dragon, some black dragon?”
The reason ice dragons are said to be strong in the sky isn’t due to physical prowess but rather their relatively superior perception of wind currents and atmospheric changes.
That’s a vital ability for long-distance flight—small differences accumulate into significant ones.
But if it were merely about flying fast and maneuvering, that would be another matter entirely.
Laila forced herself to fly faster, surpassing Laila’s movements.
“Kuh.”
“I’ll commend your cunning tactics and will to win, even if you’re just a little clever. But—”
One of Laila’s claws pierced Laila’s belly.
“The true dragon is violence incarnate. Without the fanaticism to overcome impossibilities with one’s own nature, how could anything be forced?”
“You talk big.”
“I have witnessed miracles. I continue to witness them.”
While still taking Rayla’s counterattacks upon her own body, Laila delivers another blow, inflicting further damage.
Before either of them falls to the ground, they separate, scattering blood and scales as they continue their conversation—a roar-like exchange that sounds like nothing but bellowing to any outsider.
“Not mere coincidence, no. To draw forth something worthy of being called a miracle requires more than that. A resolve beyond what you can surpass.”
“I don’t need miracles. I… I only need to do what I can.”
“I will create miracles. We will create miracles. Whether you like it or not, follow Andy Smythson.”
Once again, the two clash.
Straight, at the same altitude, head-on.
And at that moment, the difference in power becomes clear.
The silver dragon is clearly overpowered by the black dragon’s strength, sent flying backward.
“If you wish to die for your own fate, then so be it. A being of such caliber can never best me. An easy fight.”
“Let me finish this!”
Rayla regains her footing and defiantly resists the hovering black dragon.
She lashes out with claws that could easily shatter stone, snaps at her with fangs that could swallow a horse whole, and struggles to bring Laila crashing down.
But Laila’s claws strike faster, her bite is repelled by a clenched fist, and when she recoils from the fire breath scorching her face at close range, Laila’s vertical-tailed sweep sends Rayla plummeting once more.
As the silver dragon bucked from the impact, Laila accelerates downward from the air, using both hind legs to stomp down on Rayla’s neck and flank as if tearing them away.
Yet even so, Rayla heals her wounds and rises again.
“Not… not yet. I can’t back down.”
“Good.”
In an instant, they separate.
Rayla launches from a desperate sprint, using her forelegs to vault into the air, then swings her tail diagonally downward in an attack aimed at Laila.
Laila intercepts with a body slam. The silver dragon’s form floats and rolls across the ground.
“Now, it’s my turn.”
Laila pursues the rolling silver dragon and mimics her with a tail strike. The blow lands cleanly, sending Rayla bouncing away in a satisfying manner.
Yet still…
Even so, Rayla rises again, challenging the black dragon.
It’s not that her attacks fail to connect. It’s not that they don’t reach their mark.
She relies on that.
As if praying.
”…Or perhaps, that is… an interesting way of living for a dragon, I suppose. No.”
Laila scratches her head and smiles as she looks around.
“War is nothing but a tedious instinct in the end. This is better.”
The sight of women being held by their masters, looking happy.
For a moment, she wonders if that dragon knows this kind of joy.