The dragon laughed arrogantly, its voice shaking the earth itself.
Without hesitation, one of its heads opened its jaws and unleashed a torrent of fire. A blazing tongue of heat erupted outward with terrifying range.
Yet the four humans did not flinch.
Their bodies endured the overwhelming assault of heat. Their hands held firmly onto the high-pressure hoses.
At a single command, water surged forward like a living wall, forming a silver barrier against the incoming flames.
Water and fire clashed in midair.
Heat rolled violently, steam exploded outward, and the earth trembled beneath the collision of two elements refusing to yield to one another.
Minute after minute passed, yet the dragon's flames failed to break through the liquid fortress.
The final burst of fire escaped only because the dragon itself had begun running out of breath. Black smoke drifted from its nostrils as it snorted heavily.
For the first time, the dragon gasped.
It had breathed fire for too long without stopping to inhale.
Meanwhile, the firefighters—with sweat mixed with water streaming beneath their armor—smiled proudly behind their helmet visors.
The hoses were adjusted once more. Buttons across the truck's control panel were quickly recalibrated.
"Don't celebrate yet, Squad! The match is only beginning!" shouted Jonatan, the commander, his voice booming with fiery determination.
At once, they pulled the levers and rotated the nozzles, preparing for the next assault.
Then came the sound of wind splitting the air like a raging storm.
The four firefighters immediately looked upward.
The dragon was lifting itself into the sky, its obsidian-black wings beating powerfully enough to send whirlwinds tearing across the fields below.
Both dragon heads inhaled deeply at the same time.
Then another wave of fire erupted outward with the same devastating radius as before.
The hoses were raised again, and the opposing forces collided once more.
But this time, the obsidian wings beat violently.
The flames merged with spiraling winds until they transformed into a blazing fire tornado that devoured everything in its path—including the once-green plantation now turning brown and scorched.
Yet the four humans stood their ground.
Even amidst the crimson inferno and the dragon's roars.
One of them—Carl—laughed loudly and shouted,
"This feels just like the California wildfire operation, doesn't it, Commander?!"
Jonatan glanced sideways slightly, his face illuminated by the reflection of the flames.
"Exactly! Back then, we evacuated the entire city without losing a single civilian. But this time…"
He turned his burning gaze back toward the storm of fire.
"This time, the only lives we need to save are our own."
Fredy chimed in from the right side, his rough voice nearly drowned beneath the hissing water.
"Yeah! And we better not die before getting that bonus Johan promised us!"
Their laughter echoed amidst the sea of flames.
Four tiny humans standing before a colossal two-headed dragon.
And somehow, to the audience watching from the stands…
They looked like the larger side.
The roaring cheers throughout the arena gradually faded.
The human faction stared downward with a mixture of awe and fear, while the mythological creatures fell silent.
Their mouths hung open in disbelief.
They could not comprehend how four small humans were enduring the fury of such a monstrous dragon.
Libra slowly rose from her throne. Her violet hair shimmered beneath the firelight.
"They fight not with strength… but with knowledge and courage," she whispered softly, her hand tracing through the air.
Beside her, The Ancient One merely chuckled quietly.
"I'm beginning to understand why God favors them."
Meanwhile, from his throne, the President rose to his feet. The veins along his neck tightened as his eyes remained locked upon the Fire Fighter Squad standing amidst the flames and smoke.
The atmosphere grew tense.
Every spectator held their breath.
The dragon was now truly enraged.
Both heads trembled violently. The obsidian scales along its back glowed with burning crimson light.
It landed heavily upon the ground, sending shockwaves of dust crashing against the visors of the four firefighters, who still gripped their hoses tightly.
Their defensive formation remained solid.
Unshaken.
The surrounding plants had partially burned away, their smoke drifting into the dragon's senses.
One dragon head hissed sharply.
"Do you truly believe this pathetic field can save you, little humans?!"
Both heads inhaled deeply again.
Then Jonatan's heavy voice thundered through the command radio.
"All units! Gas masks on immediately!"
Without hesitation, the squad moved in perfect unison.
Click!
Hiss!
Their faces disappeared behind black protective masks.
Fast.
Precise.
Like machines trained to survive hell itself.
The dragon ignored the shift in formation.
Air was sucked violently into its enormous jaws like floodwaters vanishing through a shattered dam.
Meanwhile, Fredy—the boldest among them—pulled something from a metal case inside the truck.
A long-barreled device with a thick canister beneath it.
From the stands, the President narrowed his eyes, his voice catching in disbelief.
"That's… a flamethrower?"
The arena fell silent.
Only the distant roar of dragon fire and the pounding heartbeat of the crowd remained.
"The device is ready, Commander!" Fredy shouted hoarsely, though his voice remained steady.
Jonatan nodded sharply without turning around.
"Aim at twelve o'clock!"
Fredy stepped forward, raising the weapon toward the massive plantation ahead.
The other three firefighters, their formation slightly destabilized, leaned forward to maintain balance over the pressurized hoses.
The trigger was pulled.
A stream of fire instantly burst from the weapon's muzzle—hot, twisting, and stretching like the tongue of another dragon.
From the stands, the President's eyes widened.
"They're using fire?!"
Whoooosh!
The dragon had finally finished inhaling enough air and unleashed another massive inferno toward the firefighting formation.
The two forces collided again.
But unlike before, the elements did not repel one another.
Because now—
Both sides were fire.
Several spectators gaped in shock. Others stared wide-eyed in utter disbelief.
Then a natural disaster expert seated in the back rows leaned forward, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"They're… creating a backburn," he murmured in amazement.
Across the arena, the flamethrower's fire rapidly spread outward, forming a burning ring around the fire truck's position.
And when the dragon's flames struck the perimeter, the inferno diverted away instead of crossing into the circle.
The two fires consumed one another, dying where they met—like two kings slaying each other in a duel.
"The fire barrier is complete," Fredy said proudly, showing no fear amidst the smoke surrounding them.
The mythological spectators rose from their seats in disbelief.
"Why aren't they burning?!" shouted one of the air fairies.
From the opposite side, a middle-aged human seated among the crowd answered calmly, his deep voice filled with pride.
"When fire meets fire, the heat cancels itself out. The collision point burns away the surrounding oxygen, leaving the flames with nowhere else to spread."
Several mythological creatures instinctively turned toward him across the barrier wall separating the factions.
Silence spread through the arena.
"So? They're fighting fire… with fire?" asked an elf in disbelief.
The expert smiled faintly.
"It's simple. When fire meets fire, both consume the oxygen along their own path."
He turned his piercing gaze toward the elves.
"Even fire can suffocate to death."
Several elves stepped back slightly after hearing the explanation before turning once more toward the increasingly thick smoke produced by the two infernos.
Smoke poured from one dragon head's nostrils.
Then its neck tilted weakly.
"Looks like this still isn't eno—"
The sentence abruptly stopped when it noticed the scales along its twin's neck glowing dimly.
"Hey! What's wrong with you?! Wake up, damn it!"
roared the angrier head, its voice echoing across the entire arena.
But the smoke only grew thicker.
Even keeping its eyes open became difficult.
The two dragon heads growled in confusion, occasionally laughing for no reason at all.
Behind his gas mask, Fredy looked toward his teammates and shouted teasingly,
"This is how you enjoy marijuana, Mr. Dragon!"
The human audience burst into laughter.
Meanwhile, the mythological faction stared in utter confusion.
Libra frowned slightly and turned toward a human seated not far from the arena barrier.
"Marijuana?" she repeated awkwardly.
A botanist sitting among the human spectators answered politely, raising his voice so it could be heard across the arena.
"It isn't entirely poisonous, Lady Star.
Humans know the plant as Cannabis sativa, or cannabis. It contains an active compound called tetrahydrocannabinol—THC—which affects the nervous system of living beings."
The botanist glanced toward the dragon, which had begun stumbling drunkenly through the smoke. Its wings slowly folded inward.
"When inhaled in massive quantities, the smoke can cause dizziness, weakened motor control, and impaired consciousness."
Libra tilted her head curiously.
"So… the smoke is what's making the dragon dizzy?"
The expert nodded proudly.
Libra looked toward the four humans who now stood safely behind their black masks.
The Ancient One's claws tightened further as anger slowly crept into him.
"Damn it! Their own fire ended up burning something that destroyed their minds instead."
In the arena, the dragon now staggered violently.
Both heads crashed into one another while trying to maintain balance.
Meanwhile, the Fire Fighter Squad stood tall, staring at the unexpected result of their tactics and luck.
"Commander," Raisa asked while suppressing laughter, "what do we do now?"
"Wait until it fully passes out," Jonatan answered coldly.
Thick smoke rose into the sky, swirling like the fog of a dream.
"Sometimes, a powerful enemy isn't defeated by strength…"
"But by its ignorance of the battlefield around it."