novelraw Chapter 31: Unprovoked Disaster
Chapter 31: Unprovoked Disaster
The Brass Dragon's alchemical tools had all been stripped away. Dazed and with a painfully sore neck, it finally regained consciousness, breaking free from the hypnotic state.
It raised its claws, simultaneously slapping and tearing at Garoth's right shoulder.
The impacts sounded dull and heavy.
Sparks flew as claw tips met scales, producing a teeth-grinding metallic screech.
The Brass Dragon felt like it had struck a thousand-times forged anvil. Its claws ached from the recoil, only managing to leave shallow marks on the opponent's dragon scales without drawing blood.
Due to prior training, Garoth currently had no buffer scales.
Dark red patterns pulsed like flowing magma across his black scales, which bore a subtle silver matte sheen—hardened beyond normal dragon standards.
"Damn tough scales!"
The Brass Dragon opened its maw, spewing a gel-like acid breath, but Garoth had already retreated beyond range.
Only now, with this breathing room, did the Brass Dragon realize something was missing. Turning its head, it found the Flowing Fire Wing Rings gone from its wings. Looking down, the Watcher's Necklace had vanished from its neck. Swirling its tongue, it detected no Frost Silver Ring either.
Its neck scales felt strangely empty.
Running claws over them, the Brass Dragon was horrified to discover nearly all gems and gold coins hidden beneath its scales were missing.
Meanwhile, it noticed glimmering objects nestled between the feather-like fine scales on Garoth's wings—its own gems and coins!
The Flowing Fire Wing Rings, Frost Silver Ring, and Watcher's Necklace were all clutched in one of Garoth's claws.
"You thieving wyrm! Return my gems! My gold! My alchemical gear!"
The Brass Dragon shrieked.
No self-respecting dragon could remain calm watching treasures and equipment being stolen outright.
Beating its wings, it charged at Garoth in a fury, claws bared.
But rage didn't enhance its strength—only created more openings.
Garoth tilted sideways, evading the enraged charge while seizing the Brass Dragon's tail with both claws like iron vices.
Crack!
His overlapping arm scales locked tight as bulging muscles beneath erupted with terrifying force.
"You—"
The protest stretched into a drawn-out cry as Garoth whirled the Brass Dragon overhead several times before slamming it earthward with brutal force.
Boom!
The deafening impact kicked up dust and rubble, forming a massive crater with spiderweb fractures radiating outward.
"Pah!"
The Brass Dragon spat out mouthfuls of debris, standing from the pit with scales extensively cracked, pain radiating from every inch of its body.
Yet it showed no fear.
Instead, it beat its wings to clear the dust and launched skyward again, charging at Garoth with murderous intent.
"Vile-born Red Iron wyrm! Return my belongings or this isn't over!"
Dragons possessed formidable vitality. The injuries weren't life-threatening unless facing overwhelming disparity—and dragons rarely retreated once battle-crazed.
Still, this recklessness seemed... unwarranted.
As if relying on some hidden card.
Garoth's eyes glinted. Rather than pressing the advantage, he began retreating.
"I've stolen enough gems and alchemical gear. But metallic dragons always have reserves—likely emergency measures."
His suspicion proved correct.
A silver rune surfaced on a scale over the Brass Dragon's heart—not alchemical, but a spell-inscribed scale functioning like a scroll.
—The ultimate life-saving gift metallic dragon parents bestowed upon their young.
For sufficiently powerful parents, even a young dragon's inscribed scale might unleash legendary-tier power.
None could predict what counterattack a young metallic dragon might produce when cornered.
Garoth instinctively sensed danger.
"Why wasn't I born a metallic dragon?"
He sighed inwardly.
Any claim of non-envy would be false.
Metallic dragons adventured for leisure, treating it as sport with safety nets, seeking amusement to alleviate boredom.
Evil dragons gambled lives for survival.
Garoth didn't even consider himself evil—just wanting to live longer. A simple, modest desire.
Yet this world proved relentlessly hostile.
Case in point:
He'd been peacefully training, bothering none, when this Brass Dragon spotted him, shouting about "innately evil Red Iron hybrids" and picking fights.
Pushed toward villainy despite his intentions.
Garoth exhaled slowly, refocusing.
With treasures and alchemical gear secured, further risks were unnecessary.
Unknown what power that inscribed scale contained. Attempting to kill a metallic dragon offered dangers far outweighing potential gains.
His decision made, Garoth prepared to disengage.
Wings beating, he accelerated backward, vanishing almost instantly beyond the horizon.
The Brass Dragon gave futile chase before stopping, teeth grinding.
"Evil Red Iron hybrid! When I catch you, you'll lick my claws daily to atone!"
Its furious shout echoed as Garoth's voice carried back on the wind:
"Pop quiz—"
"What's flying skyward, about to cry for its mommy?"
The Brass Dragon froze, then visibly reddened as scales brightened with rising fury.
Overheated with rage yet powerless, it turned toward the Worm King observing their battle from the abandoned mine's depths.
"Filthy maggot! Enjoying the show?!"
With a roar, it folded wings and dove.
The Worm King, unfamiliar with dragon combat, sprang upward with gaping maw—
Just as the silver rune on the Brass Dragon's chest fully activated.
—Such life-saving scales only triggered by mortal threats.
Temperatures plummeted as if summer had become deepest winter.
Countless ice blades materialized around the Brass Dragon before hurtling downward like frozen shrapnel—too fast for the Worm King to react.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Ice blades shredded through its maw, piercing the chitinous body until it resembled a pincushion, instantly crippled.
Gurgling strange noises, the wounded Worm King fled toward mine tunnels, dragging its ravaged body underground.
The failed one-shot kill further enraged the Brass Dragon. Circling above the mine, it unleashed continuous ice blade barrages, thoroughly ravaging the abandoned site until nothing remained intact.