The dragon charged again—blades of wind spinning off its wings as it closed the gap.
John twisted midair, letting the gale flow around him, and blasted backward using compressed air from beneath his feet. The pressure bent the space around him, distorting the air into ripples.
But the dragon didn't slow.
It punched forward—yes, punched—with its massive claw, the sharp talons forming a piercing cone of energy around them. The sheer pressure tore through the stone behind John before he even dodged.
"Wind Burst!"
John kicked off the air and spiraled around the incoming strike. The wind flared behind him, pushing his body sideways like a leaf caught in a storm.
He zipped to the dragon's flank.
"Flame Claw!"
His right hand lit up—flames coating it, stretching out like a curved blade.
He slashed the dragon's side mid-flight, sending sparks and scales flying. The cut was shallow—but it was a cut.
The dragon snarled, twisting its body in an unnatural motion midair, and swung its spiked tail again.
" Origin shield!" John yelled, forming a condensed dome of energy to block.
BOOM!
The impact shattered the shield, but reduced the damage. John was pushed back, but he stayed in the air, panting, arms shaking.
Midair, John gritted his teeth as he weaved between massive claws and tail strikes. The dragon's berserk state had changed everything—no elemental blasts, just brute force.
Fast. Heavy. Relentless.
But not invincible.
'If I land one solid hit to its wings, it'll lose air balance… But it's defending that area too well. I need to distract it—make it open up.'
John shot higher, almost scraping the cavern ceiling, then flew in a wide arc behind the dragon.
"Light Barrage!"
Dozens of blinding beams shot from both his hands, each the size of a spear, glowing with searing radiance.
The dragon crossed its arms over its face, shielding itself. The blasts exploded on contact, releasing waves of heat and sound.
John didn't wait.
He flew downward like a missile.
His body glowed faint blue.
"Wind Step!"
The air beneath him exploded in pulses, sending him downward in bursts of speed.
The dragon recovered, but John had already slipped beneath its wing.
He thrust his palm out.
"Ice Needle!"
A sharp, thin spike of freezing energy shot directly at the wing joint.
CRACK!
The dragon roared—the wing flinched. It wasn't broken, but it was weakening.
John grinned. 'Almost…'
Then the dragon spun, its claw sweeping horizontally like a spinning blade.
John barely ducked, but a cut opened along his back. He winced—but didn't stop.
---
Tony bit his lip as he saw the blood fall.
"Eccaruss, he's not going to make it at this rate."
The old man finally replied, calmly.
"He's bleeding. Tired. But look closely—he's smiling."
Tony squinted. "…He is."
Eccaruss nodded. "That means he's almost done."
---
The battle zone was a storm of heat and sparks now. Runes on the walls had dimmed. Crystals had shattered. The air was a battlefield of dust, smoke, and magical pressure.
John floated still in the air for a moment, chest rising and falling.
He whispered.
"…Time to end it."
He raised his hand—then clenched his fist.
A faint, dark ripple appeared in the air beside him—like a crack forming in reality itself.
It started small. Invisible to the untrained eye. But soon…
The crack widened.
Like a portal. Black edges swirling, humming softly.
"Gate," he said quietly.
The space behind the dragon twisted.
Right behind its right wing.
The dragon's eyes widened—not in fear—but in sudden caution.
It tried to turn.
Tried to flap its wings—
John whispered, "Close."
SHUNK.
The gate collapsed in on itself with a sharp, snapping twist of space.
A black slice crossed the air—and the entire wing of the dragon vanished.
No explosion. No fire. Just… gone.
Blood sprayed into the sky like a fountain.
The Primordial Black Dragon let out a scream so loud, it shook the entire cavern like an earthquake.
"ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAARRR!!!"
High above, John's hand trembled slightly. That one move… cost him nearly 20% of his origin energy.
But it worked.
The dragon was spinning wildly in midair, struggling to stay afloat.
It twisted, tried to balance with its remaining wing—but failed.
It dropped—falling toward the ground.
John didn't stop.
He pointed toward the left wing this time.
Another black ripple formed behind the second wing.
The dragon, panicking now, looked up at John—its violet eyes no longer confident.
They burned with something else now.
Fear.
John raised his hand again.
"Gate."
SHUNK.
The second wing was sliced off.
The dragon crashed into the cavern floor like a meteor.
BOOOOMMMM!
A shockwave blasted outward, sending dust, rock, and glowing debris flying in all directions. The floor cracked like a spiderweb.
At the edge of the cavern, Tony covered his head. "Holy—!"
Eccaruss raised his hand, a gentle barrier forming in front of them, shielding them from the dust wave.
---
Silence followed.
Heavy silence.
Only the sound of falling stone and crackling fire remained.
And then, footsteps echoed.
John descended slowly, feet touching down on a high boulder, breathing deep.
His eyes locked onto the grounded dragon.
The once majestic creature now lay broken, grounded, wings gone.
It growled weakly.
Tried to stand.
John raised one hand.
"I wouldn't," he warned. "Next time… I won't miss your head."
The dragon stopped.
Their eyes locked.
And in that moment…
The dragon closed its eyes.
And bowed its head.
Tony nearly fell over. "Is it… surrendering?!"
Eccaruss chuckled softly. "Looks like it."
John stood quietly on the rock, his body surrounded by soft green glow—hé once again activated his recovery ability.