No, I can't wait any longer!
The thought struck Rayder like lightning in the middle of the chaos.
If feeding his blood to Im could remove the curse... then couldn't the reverse work too?
As long as his blood entered Im's body, the effect should still take hold!
The moment the idea took root, Rayder grabbed onto it with unwavering determination. There was no time for hesitation. This might be their only chance.
He was still on Im's back, the massive dragon's body heaving beneath him as she fought for every breath. Without wasting a second, Rayder drew the longsword from his waist in one smooth motion.
Im, though weakened, seemed to sense Rayder's intent. Through their bloodline connection, a flicker of concern and questioning passed from her to him.
Rayder gritted his teeth and shouted, voice hoarse and ragged, "Im! Hold on! Just endure this!"
He clenched the hilt of the longsword with both hands and pressed the blade against the base of one of Im's thick, obsidian scales. These scales were nearly unbreakable—hard as forged steel, layered like armor refined through centuries of evolution.
With a deep breath, Rayder braced himself. He pushed the sword down, using the spine of the blade as a lever, pouring every ounce of strength into his arms.
Metal grated against scale with a harsh screech, sparks flashing as he struggled to wedge the blade under. Im let out a muffled roar of pain, her body trembling violently.
And then—with a sharp snap—a scale the size of his palm cracked open, revealing the warm, pulsing red flesh beneath.
There was no time to celebrate. Rayder immediately flipped the blade and drove the tip into the exposed flesh with all his might.
Pfft!
The sound of metal sinking into muscle was almost drowned by the battle's chaos, but Rayder could feel the resistance clearly. He twisted the blade, carving out a wound about a hand's width wide and several inches deep.
For a creature as massive as Im, the wound was barely a scratch. But for their current situation, it was everything.
Without pausing, Rayder yanked a leather strap from his waist and tied himself tightly to one of the bony protrusions on Im's back to keep from being flung off. Then, he gripped the blade again—this time with his bare hand.
The cold steel instantly bit into his palm. Blood spilled from the wound, warm and fast.
He didn't flinch.
Gritting through the pain, Rayder pressed his bleeding hand against the wound he'd made in Im's flesh, allowing his blood to mix with hers.
It wasn't pretty. It wasn't clean. But it was all he had.
"Come on," he whispered, breath ragged. "Come on, work…"
His blood seeped into Im's body, making a faint gurgling sound as it was drawn in. Rayder clenched his jaw, trying to block out the endless screaming around them—the maddening shrieks of the cursed flesh monsters, the wails of pain, and the groans of battle that threatened to shatter his sanity.
His eyes locked on the system panel, staring at Im's status bar.
"Cursed."
The status flickered.
Then again.
"Weakened."
Then back to:
"Cursed."
It began jumping back and forth erratically—Weakened, Cursed, Weakened, Cursed—flashing like a broken signal. Rayder's heart sank with each shift.
"Damn it!"
His face turned dark. The effect was far weaker than he had hoped.
Was it too late?
But then—something changed.
Though the statuses kept flipping, the frequency was slowing. The jumps became more stable. And more importantly—Im's condition had stopped deteriorating.
She wasn't improving, but she wasn't getting worse.
The curse had been stalled.
It wasn't a cure… but it was a victory.
Rayder exhaled, shoulders slumping in relief. That flicker of hope was like a spark in darkness, steadying his resolve.
They had bought time. Not much, but enough to breathe.
Now, his focus turned to Egon.
The red dragon was crawling below, clearly struggling. Its flame had nearly flickered out. Small bursts of Dragon Flame sputtered from its jaws, dim and intermittent.
Rayder couldn't hold back his anxiety.
"Faster! Come on, faster!" he shouted down, urging Egon forward.
He considered doing the same for Egon—jumping down, cutting into its flesh, and using his blood to stall the curse again.
But when his gaze landed on Egon's back, he froze.
The spines.
Jagged bone spurs jutted out along the dragon's spine like a fortress of blades. Though they didn't seem massive in comparison to Egon's hundred-meter-long body, up close, they were horrifying.
The shorter spines were over a dozen centimeters long, like serrated daggers. The longer ones—nearly half a meter—gleamed menacingly in the firelight, like spears dipped in poison.
Rayder felt a chill run down his spine. If he tried to leap onto Egon's back now, he wouldn't even reach the scales before being impaled like a skewer.
"Forget it," he muttered to himself. "I guess I'm not that brave after all…"
He smiled bitterly. In his past life, he never even won a lottery ticket. How could he risk something more improbable than that?
So he stayed on Im's back, continuing to issue commands, scanning the battlefield with sharp eyes, constantly monitoring the three dragons' conditions.
Im was still fighting—slower, yes, but breathing Dragon Flame and whipping her tail with raw determination.
Kidora, the little dragon, was like an electric firecracker, flitting around and releasing arcs of lightning to scatter the enemy.
And Egon—though clearly exhausted—continued to crawl, slowly making his way toward salvation, occasionally spitting out a puff of flame to buy time.
Every step forward was a struggle. Each meter gained came at a brutal price.
But the Lava River was near.
The heat radiating from the molten river was immense. The ground shimmered like a mirage. The tide of fleshy creatures began to hesitate. Though still present, they dared not come too close to the unbearable temperature.
Rayder could see them now—crowding the edges, roaring, pacing back and forth, waiting for the chance to pounce. But they didn't step forward.
The Lava River was like a wall of fire. A natural barrier.
Even the cursed things feared it.
The screaming hadn't stopped, but as they got closer to the molten river, Rayder could sense a shift. The pressure was less suffocating. The aggression of the horde had waned slightly.
Whether it was the heat, the fire, or some ancient magic buried within the lava, something was keeping the monsters at bay.
The invisible pressure seemed to lift a little.
After nearly half an hour of fighting tooth and claw, the three dragons—led by Rayder's coordination—finally broke through the horde's ranks.
The Lava River spread before them, a blinding orange-red vein of molten rock stretching across the ruins like the arteries of a fire god. The air shimmered, the temperature unbearable. Even Rayder, shielded by Im's body, felt his skin sting.
But they had made it.
They had reached the edge..
Rayder looked around. The fleshy creatures had halted.
They didn't dare approach any further.
The lava's heat had formed a protective zone—a temporary safe haven.
At last, after endless battle, blood, and screaming—they could catch their breath.
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)