The forest was no longer a forest.
It was a ruin.
Broken trunks lay scattered like corpses. The ground was cratered, fractured, and bleeding molten cracks where Velgrid's heat had scorched too deep. Blackened water from Drax's Abyssal Sea seeped through the soil in thin veins, swallowing fire wherever it touched.
Drax straightened slowly, rolling his shoulder back into place. Bone knit itself together beneath his skin, Abyssal essence stitching flesh and sinew with quiet efficiency. His breath was steady. His pulse calm.
Velgrid watched him from across the clearing, golden eyes narrowed.
"You regenerate faster than most dragons," the ancient one said, flexing his clawed hands. "Annoying."
Drax wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand, glanced at it, then looked up.
"Then stop holding back."
The air shifted.
Velgrid's aura exploded outward.
The ground beneath him cracked in a perfect circle, runes igniting beneath his feet—ancient, draconic sigils etched directly into reality. The sky above darkened as clouds spiraled inward, drawn by an overwhelming gravitational pressure.
"This forest is my dominion," Velgrid declared. "My inner world does not hide inside me like yours does. It overlays reality."
The world answered him.
The mountain behind Velgrid rumbled, magma surging higher within the volcano. Rivers of fire carved glowing scars through the forest floor, reshaping terrain at Velgrid's will. The heat was suffocating—absolute, oppressive.
Drax felt it press against him.
Not just temperature.
Authority.
"So this is a dragon's domain," Drax muttered. "Crude… but effective."
Velgrid vanished.
Not movement—displacement.
He reappeared above Drax, fist wrapped in condensed flame and gravity, slamming downward with enough force to flatten a city block.
Drax crossed his arms.
The impact detonated.
A shockwave erupted outward, leveling what little remained of the clearing. Drax was driven knee-first into the ground, earth collapsing beneath him in a violent crater. His boots sank deep, black water flooding upward instinctively to cushion the blow.
Pain flared—real pain.
Drax smiled.
Good.
The Abyss reacted.
The shadows beneath him surged violently, no longer subtle. The Abyssal World pressed outward, reality thinning like glass stretched too far. The ground around Drax turned obsidian-black, liquid darkness spreading in a wide radius.
A sea began to form.
Velgrid leapt back, eyes widening slightly.
"That's new."
The black sea expanded rapidly, swallowing magma whole. Fire hissed and vanished upon contact, devoured without resistance. The surface of the sea rippled with depth far beyond what its shallow appearance suggested.
Drax stood from the center of it.
"You manifest your world outward," he said calmly. "So can I."
The sky above the sea darkened unnaturally.
Stars—false stars—flickered into existence.
And overhead, the red moon appeared.
Not fully.
Just enough.
The slit pupil opened.
Velgrid felt it then.
Pressure.
Not heat. Not gravity.
Judgment.
"This place…" Velgrid growled, stepping back as his domain resisted, fire surging harder to reclaim territory. "This isn't just essence."
"No," Drax agreed. "It's ownership."
Velgrid roared and thrust his hand forward.
Dragon Art: Cinder Dominion.
The volcano erupted.
A pillar of white-hot flame tore through the sky, descending toward Drax with erasure-level intensity. The heat warped space itself, burning shadows, bending light.
Drax raised his hand.
The black sea rose like a wall.
The flame struck.
For a moment, nothing existed but blinding light and deafening sound.
Then—
The flame died.
Not extinguished.
Consumed.
The sea churned violently, swallowing the dragon fire and growing darker, deeper. Drax felt the feedback ripple through him—raw, ancient essence pouring into the Abyss.
Velgrid's pupils constricted.
"You're feeding on my domain."
Drax took a step forward. The sea followed.
"I feed on everything."
Velgrid snarled and lunged, abandoning ranged attacks. He crossed the distance in an instant, fist colliding with Drax's face. Drax's head snapped sideways—but he countered immediately, driving his elbow into Velgrid's ribs.
The sound was like a mountain cracking.
They clashed again and again, blows trading at impossible speed. Every impact sent tremors through the ground. Velgrid's strength was monstrous—each strike carried centuries of refinement and raw draconic power.
But Drax adapted.
His movements grew sharper. Tighter. His strikes began to land first.
Each hit drained essence.
Each exchange widened the Abyss's influence.
Velgrid slammed Drax through a ridge of stone, then followed, grabbing him by the throat and dragging him across the ground, fire tearing at his skin.
Drax grabbed Velgrid's wrist.
The dragon felt it.
Drain.
"Enough."
Velgrid hurled Drax away—hard.
Drax crashed through a line of ancient trees, skidding to a halt in a cloud of splintered wood. He coughed once, then laughed quietly as he stood.
"You're strong," Drax admitted. "Strong enough to hurt me."
Velgrid landed opposite him, breathing heavier now. The volcano behind him pulsed, responding to his agitation.
"But you fight like a ruler defending territory," Drax continued. "Not like someone who's been hunted."
Velgrid's eyes burned.
"Then come," he growled. "Let's see whose world breaks first."
They charged.
Not with magic.
Not with domains.
Just power.
Fist met fist.
Shoulder slammed into chest.
They tore through the forest in a blur, crashing through trunks, rolling across shattered earth, trading bone-shattering blows. Drax was sent flying—then Velgrid was—both smashing through trees like paper, both bleeding now.
Black blood hit the ground.
Gold blood followed.
They skidded apart, breathing hard.
The forest lay in ruins between them.
Drax wiped blood from his jaw and smiled wider than before.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "This'll do."
Velgrid straightened, scales cracked, eyes blazing with fury and excitement.
"Then keep standing, human."
The ground trembled beneath them as they moved again—
And the battle entered its next phase.