novelraw Chapter 21: Spirit Essence
Chapter 21: Spirit Essence
A crescent moon hung like a hook over the Rock Gnawer Tribe, stretching the shadows cast by the low hills into twisted shapes.
Garoth's dragon pupils gleamed dark and profound in the night as he crouched low, the crimson patterns on his obsidian-like scales faintly glowing.
"Let your deaths soothe the unease in my heart."
With a sweep of his tail, he smashed a leaping goblin warrior into a radial splatter of pulp. The meticulously tanned leather armor reinforced with alchemical runes shattered like water-soaked paper upon impact.
"Damnable dragon!"
Broken-Tusk Grolk roared in fury as his eyes reflected the flames and ruined territory.
Bzzzt!
An engine roared to life as black oil rapidly burned and converted into energy.
Black oil—formed over eons from the accumulated remains of magical creatures—was a viscous, tar-like substance serving as the foundational fuel for many alchemical devices. Similar to petroleum but far more potent in energy output.
The planet Bernardo's exceptionally advanced alchemy stemmed partly from its abundant resources: black oil, magic crystals, and source gems. As the engine's hum intensified, the Giant-Arm Miner's body erupted with steam, alchemical runes etched into its steel plates lighting up one after another. Its massive frame stomped forward, charging straight at the red iron young dragon.
If it stays grounded...
If it remains on the ground...
Grolk, piloting the Giant-Arm Miner, was confident he could slay any young dragon. And given a juvenile dragon's arrogance, it might foolishly forget its aerial advantage and engage in a protracted ground battle.
"I'll rip off its wings first! By the time it tries to flee, it'll be too late!"
Grolk had already mapped out his strategy. Though the Giant-Arm Miner wasn't a combat-focused alchemical golem, its arms could pulverize boulders into powder and bend steel beams. Facing a young dragon head-on should pose no issue.
Meanwhile...
The tribe's shaman, Grozz, hunched over as the largest pustule on his back—resembling a grotesque hump—burst open. A monstrous black-purple spider the size of a goblin's head emerged amidst vile fluids.
The spider's crimson compound eyes and chitinous black carapace covered in bristling hairs made it appear lifelike at first glance. In truth, it was a spirit essence cultivated by Grozz—the shaman's primary weapon.
Spirit Essence Web!
Grozz chanted as the spider spirit perched on his back, spewing a massive, adhesive, and venomous web toward Garoth.
On one side, the ensnaring spell-web descended.
On the other, the Giant-Arm Miner barreled forth with terrifying momentum.
Garoth coiled his limbs, muscles beneath his scales tensing like steel cables before erupting with explosive power—simultaneously thrusting his wings downward.
Whoosh!
A gust of wind hurled dust outward in a shockwave.
The red iron young dragon shot skyward just before the web could entrap him.
Grolk could only glare helplessly at the soaring dragon; his golem lacked any anti-air capabilities.
"Running like that other red whelp I scared off?"
Having now intimidated two young dragons, Grolk felt invincible—perhaps even capable of facing adolescent dragons.
"Sing my praises! The mighty Grolk has repelled dragons yet again!"
The goblin's triumphant bellow prompted the confused tribe to echo cheers for their champion's bravery.
Only Grozz knew the truth.
"Stay alert! It's not over!"
High above, Garoth gazed down at the minuscule goblin settlement.
His wings sliced through the air as he dove, the wind screeching against the feather-like scales lining his wing membranes.
At the perfect moment, Garoth streamlined his wings into a conical shape, the crimson patterns on his scales glowing like molten steel.
The red iron young dragon became a black-and-crimson meteor, crashing toward the conspicuously massive Giant-Arm Miner with devastating force.
A flicker of fear arose in Grolk—quickly crushed by his inflated ego.
"Witness history, my kin! Witness Grolk the Dragonslayer's triumph!"
He raised the golem's colossal arms to meet Garoth midair as the tribe watched in awe. Even Grozz momentarily believed the boastful chief might actually—
CRUNCH!
The impact spiderwebbed the ground with fractures. The shockwave hurled nearby goblins into walls or impaled them on allies' weapons, leaving carnage in its wake.
The eight-meter-tall alchemical golem crumpled like a tin can under a giant's boot, riveted steel plates twisting apart as black oil gushed like arterial spray.
Grolk's dying scream was cut short when a shorn metal pipe pierced his throat, pinning him to the ruined cockpit. His final sight: Garoth rising from flames and smoke.
"We're dead! Run!"
A surviving goblin scrambled up, shrieking—only for his head to somersault through the air, his horrified expression frozen as he glimpsed his headless corpse still twitching fingers.
Garoth's wings extended like twin guillotine blades as he skimmed the camp at low altitude.
Everything in their path—goblins, tents, stone huts, weapon racks—was cleanly bisected.
Swoosh!
A black shadow lunged from the side.
Garoth's claw swiped through empty air as the spider spirit essence leaped onto his back, fangs sliding between his scales. Rather than piercing flesh, the fangs phased directly into his body.
The sting of venom made Garoth grimace.
This spell-forged spirit bypassed his natural defenses entirely. Though the damage was minor, it proved troubling.
"My magic resistance still needs work."
A dragon's spell resistance grew with age—adults could shrug off most magic—but juveniles remained vulnerable.
"Plus, brute force doesn't work well against spectral or spell-born entities."
Quasi-Spell Skill—Minor Fireball!
A small flame orb materialized beside Garoth, obliterating the spider spirit upon impact. His claws packed far more punch, yet proved less effective here.
"I need to expand my quasi-spell arsenal. My current options are too limited."
Garoth mused.
While he prioritized nigh-impenetrable defenses, blistering speed, and overwhelming vitality to become unkillable, he refused to be a mere brawler relying solely on physical might.
Dragons were natural-born sorcerers. He wouldn't squander that edge.
But magical adaptation evolved far slower than physical traits. So far, Garoth had only mastered a few quasi-spells beyond typical juvenile capabilities.