Chapter 55: Royal Defeat

  The chamber shuddered with every exchange, the walls trembling as if the mountain itself feared the clash of the two entities contained within it.

  Alex pressed forward, [Flare] igniting along his fists like burning meteors. He slammed one strike into the Queen’s thigh, detonating a burst of compressed aether like a grenade going off point-blank. The explosion lit the cavern in harsh white-blue light, but when the smoke cleared, her carapace was scorched, nothing more.

  Her counter came quickly. A backhanded swipe of her claw caught his chest, sending Alex spinning through the air. He hit the stone hard enough to crack it, air ripping from his lungs. He forced himself back up, lips curling in a bloody grin.

  Again.

  A gesture of his hand and [Wind Lance]s screamed through the air, energy compressed into surgical-thin needles. They darted from three directions, spiraling at her like a murder of spectral birds. The Queen spun, hard chitin flashing and deflecting two of the missiles, only for the third to graze her cheek. A thin line of blood ran down her jaw.

  For the first time, she snarled angrily.

  Alex didn’t give her time to do any more than that. He shifted, his feet sliding into the brutal angles of the Demon Asura’s second stance. His aura suddenly grew harsher, azure horns growing darker above his brow as he drove ahead.

  His fists blurred in rapid jabs, then switched seamlessly into bone-shattering hooks, then melted back into evasive pivots. His movements teetered between light and heavy, fast and crushing, a storm without rhythm.

  Every strike he landed hissed with the acrid energy of [Burning Strike] and painted her in his [Wyrm-Heart] blood, creating caustic bubbles that crawled across the Queen’s carapace. Every clash siphoned just a fraction of her vast vitality into him, [Wrath Siphon] drinking greedily and fueling his fury.

  But she was faster. Always faster.

  A taloned leg whipped up into his guard, sending cracks spidering through his bones. He stumbled. Her mandibles snapped shut inches from his throat, only his desperate roll saved him. A hammer-blow kick caught him as he rose, driving him into the cavern wall like a nail. Stone split around his body with dust choking the air.

  She stood in the dusty haze in front of him, smiling with venomous delight. “You fight as if pain is your lover, little toy. Good. It means you’ll last longer before I break you.”

  Blood streamed down Alex’s face, his body was already screaming, begging for him to stop the madness. But the fire in his chest only grew hotter. He spat red into the dirt, lifted his fists again, and charged.

  The blue-black aura around him writhed, threads of it twisting like smoke into the harsh silhouette of wings behind him. His veins glowed faintly, pumping with molten fury as his skill sprung to life. [Asura Bloodwrath] activated once more.

  A surge of strength tore through his muscles, raw power stitching over shattered bones and forcing his body to greater heights. He staggered one step, then blurred forward with movements that were heavier, hungrier.

  His fists crashed against the Queen’s body with enough force to rattle her armored frame, shockwaves bursting out with every strike.

  The Queen tilted her head, mandibles twitching.

  Is she still merely amused? He thought.

  “You think to grow stronger from the edge of death? Foolish little morsel…” She parried his next blow with a sweep of her claw, splattering droplets of crimson across her body.

  The blood hissed on contact. Steam curled from her carapace where it landed, the toxic trace of his Wyrm-heart constitution—now boosted with his [Bloodwrath] skill—finally burning through the hardened shell. Her expression grew more taught at the reaction. The amusement in her expression slipped just a fraction.

  He grinned, eyes wild. “Yeah… hurts, doesn’t it?”

  The Queen answered his question with violence.

  Her claw blurred, smashing him across the chamber. He tumbled over the ground, hit the wall, bounced off, and staggered upright only to be seized once more mid-motion. Her massive claw wrapped around him, taloned claws digging into flesh, and then—

  SLAM.

  The cavern floor shattered beneath his body.

  SLAM.

  A crater yawned wider, dust and rock fragments exploding into the air, the impact ringing in his skull until he nearly lost sense of up and down. His vision blurred and his ears buzzed. His chest barely rose, breath harsh and shallow.

  Above him, the Queen loomed, ichor still smoking where his blood had touched her. Her voice dripped with venomous glee. “You bleed poison, little warrior. But poison cannot kill a Queen.”

  He groaned, then his hand twitched, fingers clawing at the broken stone around him. His aura still raged, [Bloodwrath] still surging hotter with every drop of blood he spilled. His body was nothing but ruin, but he refused to stop.

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  A groan escaped his lips as he tried to stand, only to have a taloned foot kick him back to the ground. He shuddered, mentally shouting at his body to move, to follow his commands, but it simply couldn’t. His body was breaking, to the point that it was far too gone.

  Thump-thump.

  He felt the change instantly, and he smiled. Fucking took you long enough.

  Thump-thump.

  The Wyrm-heart had finally awoken again.

  Alex almost couldn’t remember the last time he had felt its power. Now, on the verge of death, as always, it made its presence known. The mass of muscle in his soulspace trembled and a wave of energy flooded the void around it. The draconic aether didn’t waste time as it rushed to his soulgate and into his body without delay, filling his broken form with overwhelming power.

  As he lay in the dirt, Alex felt his form being injected with that raw strength, energy wrapping and infusing every cell in his body. Tiny purple-black scales began to form on his skin, his pupils narrowed to long slits, and his fingers grew just a fraction, nails sharpening and hardening at the tips.

  The process happened nearly instantly, but it felt longer for Alex, as it didn’t heal his body, or dull his pain. It merely held his broken pieces together and forced them full of strength. But it was something that would keep him going, and he would take it.

  He kicked forward, catching the Queen by surprise, his foot sunk into her gut and launched her across the cavern and skipping across the ground. He was back on his feet and chasing after her within moments, fists thrown in a barrage that cracked against her form at every angle he could muster. Jaw, arms, torso, legs, head, even her wings received a dose of punishment from his attacks.

  It almost seemed like he was winning.

  But the Queen abruptly spun, dodging one of his blows and followed up with a punch that snapped his head to the side. He returned the strike with a kick, sending her off balance, but a wing buffeted his shoulder in return and a taloned foot slammed into his inner thigh. He buckled, dodged another claw swipe, and then was forced to guard against an elegant roundhouse kick aimed at his chest, which sent him backward with tremendous force.

  Alex’s chest heaved as he slid to a stop, his feet gouging twin trails through the stone. His forearms shook where he had blocked her kick, bones splintering beneath the dragon-scaled flesh. The shimmer of his Wyrm-Heart constitution still cloaked him, violet haze writhing from his skin like fire made liquid.

  He looked at his opponent, her body covered in bubbling burns, bleeding cracks, gashes that leaked purple blood. She was collecting injuries now, his attacks were taking a toll, but the truth was undeniable.

  She was still stronger, and he was burning through everything he had.

  The Queen advanced on him slowly, haughtily. Her eyes gleamed under the cavern’s dim glow, her wings flexed behind her, mandibles twitching with cruel anticipation. The aura that radiated from her form pressed down on the chamber, making the air thick to the point of stifling. Her every step cracked stone, as though the dungeon itself bent to her will.

  “Draconic energy? Your persistence surprises and entertains me. You rise again and again… like a dragonling thrashing in its egg,” she hissed. “But all hatchlings break. And I will savor your yolk.”

  Alex spat blood onto the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his scaled hand before he bared his teeth in a mocking smile. His pupils narrowed from slits to bare lines and his following roar echoed through the cavern as his aura flashed ever brighter.

  “Alex…” Obby said. He sounded almost… sad. “Its time, the token.”

  I can’t stop. I won’t.

  He charged again, fists igniting with dual casts of [Flare], each blow detonating against her defenses. He followed with a barrage of [Wind Lance]s, weaving them between his punches to tear at her guard, forcing her to react in a rapid succession of steps. For a moment—just a heartbeat—he thought he saw her footing stagger.

  But the Queen just laughed.

  Her aether thickened, stone dust rising around her as the cavern trembled. She met his next punch head-on, her claws clamping around his scaled fist. With a sharp twist, she yanked him forward, her other claw spearing into his gut, her nails battering flesh and piercing organ alike.

  Alex gasped as the world flashed white and the wind was driven from his lungs. Then she slammed him over her shoulder, smashing him into the ground so hard the impact nearly folded his spine.

  He coughed, blood spraying, and he rolled instinctively, barely avoiding the follow-up stomp that cratered the floor where his chest had been. He staggered to his feet, aether around him crackling wildly. It hurt, everything hurt, even breathing, every gasp of air felt like swallowing knives.

  The Queen straightened to her full height, towering over him. Her grin widened into something monstrous as she looked down on him. “Show me, dragonling. Show me your last desperate scrap. Entertain your Queen a little longer…”

  Alex steadied himself, [Bloodwrath] still tried to push him stronger with every wound, but the skill had reached its limit. His Wyrm-Heart had already released all its stored energy. And [Wrath Siphon] barely made a difference with the level of damage he had accumulated.

  He had almost nothing left, but his fury was bottomless.

  He forced himself upright, one hand clutching his abdomen where the Queen’s claw had nearly gutted him. His lungs rattled with every breath, but his soulspace burned hotter than it ever had. The Wrym-heart beat rapidly, its desire for domination and victory demanding to be made known.

  Inside his head, Obby still tried to reason with him. “You’re almost out of cards, flesh-sack. But… there is one left. The [Vita-Surge Cloak]. But, your body can’t handle the added strain.”

  Alex nodded. Yeah. That’s the one chance I got. Burn it all. If I can push my body far enough, maybe I can—

  “—not die instantly?” Obby interjected dryly. “Yes, maybe. But if you’re thinking about layering the Cloak with the [Descending Demon Fist]… don’t. Just don’t.”

  The thought had already crossed Alex’s mind, lingering like a poisonous temptation. He flexed his trembling fingers, imagining the concussive devastation if he could overlay his most destructive martial skill with the augmentor spell. He could already picture the Queen’s body breaking apart under it.

  Could it work? he asked.

  Obby hesitated, then sighed. “In theory? Yes. The Cloak feeds raw vitality into your body, and the Demon Fist would compound that with layered aether construct connecting to your spirit and body. Together, they’d make you a walking calamity. But with the [Bloodwrath], the [Wyrm-Heart] compounding that strain, even with your meridian imprints… your flesh would tear apart before you even landed the strike. You’d be revenge paste.”

  Alex stood there in silence, the image of Holly’s leg being ripped away flashing behind his eyes. Of Henry’s hand eaten like a snack. Eric, Allie, Zach, Kate, Selka, Myrae, Sarson, Rynel—every friend, every comrade brutalized and literally consumed, while the Queen smiled. His throat tightened with rage pressing upward like it would choke him.

  Revenge was so close. So bitter, so sweet.

  But Obby was right. If he burned himself completely, if he died here, then nothing mattered.

  Finally, Alex let out a shaking breath. …Fine. No Demon Fist. Just the Cloak.

  “Good. That might keep your insides on the inside. For now.” Obby’s tone softened slightly. “You want to make this bitch bleed, then pour everything into it. Don’t hold back, not on this one.”

  Alex’s gaze locked onto the Queen, who was watching him like a cat with a wounded bird, her wings poised open, and her smile expectant.

  He rolled his shoulders and whispered to himself. “Alright then. Cloak it is. Let’s fucking dance.”