The forest was silent. Smoke and ash from Velgrid's volcano curled into the sky, masking the sun. Drax stood at the center of the clearing, black blade in hand, the faint ripple of the Abyss leaking around his boots like living shadows. Every tree seemed to shiver under the tension, every leaf frozen mid-fall.
Velgrid stepped fully onto the cliff, massive, humanoid, and regal. His golden eyes, molten with fury, locked onto Drax's. The ancient dragon exhaled, the heat bending the air like liquid fire. Even his humanoid form radiated an aura strong enough to scorch the earth.
"You've killed what I tolerated… you think this forest belongs to you?" Velgrid's voice rumbled like molten stone shifting under the earth. Smoke escaped his nostrils, curling and hissing in the wind.
Drax tilted his head, his white eyes cold, his voice calm, almost playful.
"Your monsters were… tasty. I'm just here to see what else I can devour."
Velgrid growled low, and with a sudden roar, leapt from the cliff, his humanoid form surging forward like a falling mountain. Drax's body moved before thought, black shadows surging from the Abyss around him, coating his blade with the thick black essence of his inner world.
The first clash was thunderous. Velgrid swung a massive, clawed arm; Drax met it with the edge of his black blade. The force of impact sent shockwaves through the forest, shattering trees hundreds of meters away. Branches splintered, soil erupted, and the sound of stone cracking echoed like thunder.
Drax felt the raw strength of Velgrid through the strike. It wasn't just physical—it was ancient, honed over centuries, an aura that could warp the very battlefield. He staggered backward slightly, the sheer power resonating through his limbs, but he adapted almost instantly. Abyssal essence rippled through his body, reinforcing bones, muscles, and reflexes.
He lunged. Shadow-like tendrils formed from the Abyss itself, extending outward and wrapping around Velgrid's legs. The dragon's tail lashed violently, striking the tendrils, but Drax's essence was adaptive—every strike strengthened the Abyss, every impact refined its structure. He twisted, the black sea flowing under his boots like water with teeth, and slashed again.
Velgrid blocked, sparks of raw force erupting where black blade met golden-scaled arm. "Impressive," Velgrid hissed, circling him mid-air, "But not enough."
With a roar, Velgrid manifested fire along his limbs, scorching the ground. Flames ripped toward Drax, twisting reality itself, erasing everything they touched. But Drax didn't flinch. His Abyssal World had evolved to partially manifest in reality—the black sea rose, spreading like a tidal shadow. The flames hissed and dissolved when they touched it, absorbed into the Abyss, feeding Drax's strength instead of harming him.
He countered with a surge forward, every strike of his blade slicing at the air and at the edges of Velgrid's domain, testing it, probing the ancient dragon's reactions. Every swing drained a fraction of Velgrid's essence, and though it was minimal, it gave Drax feedback, adaptation points. He adjusted, parried, and countered in a dance of lethal choreography.
Velgrid's eyes narrowed. He leapt higher, the air burning around him. "Then feel the weight of a dragon's wrath!"
A massive fireball erupted from his palms, rolling forward like molten rock. Drax's blade absorbed part of the heat, but instinctively he phased, activating Abyssal Combat, flowing through his own essence to move unpredictably. Shadows enveloped him, and he emerged behind Velgrid, striking the golden arm with all his adaptive force.
Velgrid staggered, but not as far as Drax hoped. The dragon spun, fist connecting with Drax's chest with enough force to send him flying. He crashed through the trunks of three ancient trees, splintering them like kindling, each impact shaking the earth. Pain shot through him, but Abyssal essence instantly regenerated internal injuries.
Drax pushed himself up, black blade raised. His grin widened. "Not bad… I expected nothing less."
Velgrid landed on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt and ash. His tail lashed with seismic force, and Drax barely rolled aside, shadows of the Abyss curling and swallowing part of the attack.
The two charged simultaneously, colliding with fists. Steel met scale, bone against obsidian-like muscle. Every strike rang like a cannon, vibrating through the forest. They fought hand-to-hand now, raw physical strength augmented by inner world power, moving impossibly fast. Each punch left craters, each kick splintered the earth beneath them.
They traded blows across several trees, crashing through branches and splintering trunks. Velgrid's fire and ancient magic tried to overwhelm Drax, but the longer the fight went on, the stronger Drax became, absorbing residue essence from the forest, the shattered monsters, and even fragments of Velgrid's aura.
He wasn't just surviving. He was learning. Adapting. Perfecting.
Velgrid's strikes grew sharper, faster—an unrelenting storm of claws, punches, and energy. Drax's shadows twisted, forming both defense and offense, countering blows while striking back with precision.
And through it all, Drax's smile never faltered.
"This is only the beginning, Velgrid," he said, voice cold, certain. "You'll see how deep the Abyss can go."
Velgrid hissed, eyes narrowing. His tail lashed through multiple trunks, trying to sweep Drax off his feet. Drax vaulted into the air, black sea rippling beneath him like liquid shadows, and landed amidst the trees on Velgrid's side. They collided again, fists smashing against each other, both propelled backward through a line of massive oaks, smashing trunks, sending clouds of splintered wood raining down.
Leaves and soil tumbled in a violent storm around them. Drax grinned, exhilarated by the clash. He could feel Velgrid's strength, ancient and raw, and yet he knew adaptation would let him match it.
The forest itself had become their arena, shattered and scarred by their raw power.
And the battle was only beginning.