Arthur, awaiting a response, looked at Damien's eyes for a moment. When Damien looked up at him, he saw whitened eyes in the armor, making it hard to tell what Arthur was looking at.
Overall, the impression he gave, looming over the boy, with crimson and ragged, pointy armor, was that of scariness.
It wasn't exactly the popular idea of a frightening existence. In fact, he might align with moreso a warrior, or a black knight than anything else.
Yet, when faced with him towering over you, staring down with a gaze you can't decipher, wielding a sword while you're injured, fear naturally rests in the heart.
"I need… blood," Damien weakly muttered. Then, from the back, another limb seemed to spring out, thick and similar to the tentacle of the witch, which rushed back at the dragon and latched onto it, dragging its corpse over to Damien.
"What's your Art?" Arthur asked. His voice was quiet, and underneath the mask, made it even harder to hear. However, Damien, terrified of asking for clarification due to the brutality Arthur surrounded himself with, guessed and got lucky.
"It's a mix of Vampirism and Blood empowerment… if I consume blood, I can get stronger, and heal wounds too…"
His voice was shaky, though after he began to slurp up the blood, regenerating his wounds and growing in might due to the strength of dragon blood, he regained his smile and got back to his feet.
Arthur said nothing in response, seeing the rest of the dragons fighting. The bullet assault from before had done damage, but it wasn't as good as one might expect, as there were many dragons, meaning that the overall amount of bullets was spread out amongst all, leading to less damage being taken.
Arthur went over to Todd, who was engaging in combat with another dragon, summoning 12 grenades with their pins removed, using gusts of wind which were disrupted by a member of the Oxyn Family, who was a Wind Dragon.
The circulation of air which was being disrupted eventually landed the grenades right next to the dragon disrupting them, as they twirled air near them, their eyes distracted by an opponent who they planned to hit with a lot of debris.
Again, the grenades snuck in with the other objects planned to use for an assault, before they exploded near the dragon, causing damage to their armored scales and flesh, but was not fatal.
"You," Arthur said, to which Todd turned around. "Give me one of the strongest guns you have."
Arthur himself wasn't exactly familiar with guns, so he simply asked for the best he could get. Todd was hesitant, but agreed nevertheless, creating a Carl Gustaf recoilless rifle.
"Be careful, that thing's a monster. Save it for when you're dangerous, got it? If you can't use it properly, I'm going to erase it from your grasp, you hear me?"
Uncharacteristically, Todd seemed to be very serious. Arthur held it in his hands, and nodded his head, before firing it at another dragon.
…
The result was, as expected, a slaughter. Yes, dragons were powerful, and governments would prefer to not get on their bad side, but ultimately, they were not immortal.
The weapon immediately disappeared from Arthur's hands, and Todd ran over to him, grabbing him by the back and pulling him away, pinning him against a wall.
"You idiot! That's it, you're not getting any more guns from me, mister!"
Arthur looked over, seeing the massive explosion of gore across the street. Not just the gore, but the buildings were all messed up too.
Todd strengthened his grip on the armor. "Hey, hey. Look. At. ME."
Arthur looked back to him, snickering behind his helmet.
"I can't trust you with big guns, so you're never getting another gun from me, y'hear?"
Eventually, more dragons began to swarm them, leading to them being separated.
Arthur rushed to the scene of the immense gore, absorbing all of the blood through the armor and strengthening it, before five African dragons all swarmed him at once.
They all carried wind abilities of some sort. One launched wind bullets at Arthur, though that didn't do much, unable to penetrate the armor. Arthur lunged at said dragon, attempting to slice their head off with the cutlass, before being grabbed by the larger dragon, lifted up and slammed into the ground with force enough to leave a small crater.
As the armor mostly protected against penetration and cutting damage, the blunt attack was mildly effective.
The dragon gripped his leg, lifting him up and continuously swinging him at the ground. The armor he wore stabbed into the hand of the dragon, yet it refused to let go, so he shattered the cutlass and used the blood to sever the hand off, causing him to hit the ground.
Arthur got back up, sprouting thick, long and fluid masses of blood, durable and powerful.
These tentacles launched at the dragon, stabbing it. It was able to penetrate, but not impale, though that wasn't an issue. Arthur used the tentacles, absorbing the blood through them to create more, which wrapped around the dragon and began to lift it off the ground.
These dragons, at 50 feet minimum, weighed somewhere between 7000 to 8000 pounds.
Arthur was picking it up with a tentacle, lifting it off the ground and swinging it, crashing it into buildings and causing general mayhem.
When the other 4 dragons surrounded him to attack him, he shattered all of the tendrils but the one gripping the dragon, using that excess blood to launch the tentacles which stabbed through the snout of the dragons, impaling it and forcing them away, less they experience great pain.
"It's all worthless, it's all pointless," Arthur said, gritting his teeth beneath the armor and angrily looking at those who he had under his control.
"Die already, you weaklings."
He lifted up the dragon and slammed it down on the ground, creating a large crater before ripping the other tentacles down from the jaw, using those tentacles like legs to walk over before getting on top of the downed dragon.
Those tentacles began to mercilessly and rapidly penetrate the dragon's stomach, continuing to skewer the monster as Arthur looked down on it.
"How can you live with yourselves, knowing you're so weak? Just how is it possible that you can go about your daily lives? Probably because you don't know someone like me exists."
It was an absolute onslaught, a barrage of impalement and impalement and impalement.
The dragons lunged at him, flying over and attempting to stop him. Yet, the mass amount of blood which Arthur had gained was then used as a sphere to protect Arthur, stopping any immediate blows, requiring the dragons to break the wall down.
"You're all a bunch of fucking idiots. Don't you know you can't do anything, you can't be happy, you can't live without being strong? Trash."
The tentacles then embedded themselves inside the dragon once more. Yet, instead of ripping themselves out to re-enter, they began to pull the dragon apart. From the inside, the dragon was brutalized, ripped and torn into pieces.
It wasn't being cut, it was being ripped. The difference between the two was absolutely crucial.
It's not an incision, or a one-and-done attack, only to lose flesh. It was experiencing his own flesh and blood, bone and marrow, being forcibly pulled apart until it ripped, and tore him apart to pieces.
The barrier was shattered, but it was too late. Arthur turned his sights towards the other dragons, before lunging those tendrils at them instead, impaling all four of them.
…
Despite how powerful these dragons were, it must be stated the absolute volume of blood he was consuming. He was consuming full on dragons.
For a dragon, their physical strength is at its peak when they're fully transformed. So, for Blood Armory, which was receiving not just an intense amount of blood, but also much stronger blood, due to the dragon's environment and training.
Akin to being a teenager, doing daily calisthenics for muscle with a poor diet.
Yes, being a teen with noobie gainz and doing calisthenics is definitely effective, even if the diet isn't so great. However, then being given a consistently progressive workout, proper diet, and plenty of sleep.
It was quite the difference.
…
They were all dead.
He stood motionless over the corpses, draining all of their blood and developing the method of minimal stamina usage while in combat.
"I'm doing it right now," he said, looking down at the corpses. "I'm making those 'ideal builds' you talked about, David…"
A moment of silence.
"No, it's no good to worry about that. Besides, it sounds stupid to say stuff like that."
He looked onward at the battlefield. With a bit of a proper look now, he spotted familiar faces. Taking a step back, his heart skipped a beat, seeing them both.
"Lucy…" And not just her, but Rachel as well.
Those two seemed to be working together. Arthur left the corpses behind, heading down over to the women.
They looked at him with… well, Lucy seemed hesitant to see him, and Rachel seemed to be as annoyed as ever.
"Hey," Arthur mumbled. Of course, the battle between dragons raged on even still, but at the moment, Arthur himself didn't pay any mind.
"Hmph. I'd bet you feel awfully proud, talking to two women at once. One during the day, and one at night," Rachel said, crossing her arms. Arthur clicked his tongue.
"Oh hush. Ignoring you, how've you guys been? What happened to you?"
"Well," Lucy began. "I took your phone and contacted your dad, since he was the most recent text. He took care of us, and I guess he was with your mother at the time, or something, I don't really know…"
Rachel, feeling a bit irritated at being so blatantly disrespected, waltzed over and socked Arthur's armor, letting out a small "ow."
"What's the thing with you and punching me?" Arthur asked, his shoulder slumping.
"It is justice for being so cocky now. I myself am not even going hard. So stop whining."
Arthur barely snorted a laugh, not really caring much for laughter at the moment.
"Listen," said a suddenly serious Arthur. "I'd appreciate it if you all left. I'd rather you guys not die, in fact."
However, they vehemently protested.
"We're here already. Not to mention, Arthur, I want to help you. No, but before I help, I want to talk."
"What is it?"
"You told me you'd give up your mission. So why are you here, in Africa?"
It wasn't a bad question. However, Arthur looked at her through the helmet, making her feel uneasy, as she couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking.
"I…"
"Answer me. Don't tell me you lied…?"
Arthur remained silent. His silence led to even more worry to stir within her heart. If Arthur, whom she'd identified as a friend, even if one who made a mistake and needed help, had lied to her, then it would just be another terrible thing to befall her.
"Well? You heard me, Arthur, answer me!"
This time, rather than concern, her voice sprang up with anger. Arthur himself didn't have much issue with lying, but ultimately, what went through his mind was not "what excuse can I make?"
Rather, it was a matter of whether or not to just kill her.
If she was growing bothersome, then it made sense to just off her. She provided little combat ability, so she simply wasn't necessary anymore. And what Rachel thought didn't matter.
Love was such a fickle concept for Arthur.
Earlier, he'd held those close with tight hands which swore to never let go. And then, he got himself attached to a woman, one who he "loved," and would have enjoyed getting married to.
However, at this moment, Arthur didn't really feel anything particular towards Rachel. Even his surprise was in her continued existence, rather than anything else.
As well, when he said he didn't want them here, it wasn't exactly a lie. It was the truth that he preferred if they didn't come to Africa, but that was just due to a slight emotional connection he had with them.
He knew that he wouldn't live long enough to spend time with her, and he knew that he'd already thrown away a "good" life when he rejected his dad for the final time.
So at this moment, she offered practically nothing to him.
This all circled back to the question of whether or not to just kill them, here and now.
"Arthur… Answer me. Please, I need to know, did you lie to me?"
He remained silent. However, another existence said everything he needed to at that moment.
"Good grief, you're having fun without me! You douchebag, why'd you run off like you did?!"
Rushing forward was Raiden, keeping a slim expression of annoyance on his face. When Raiden saw the women, he seemed taken aback.
"Ah! It's the pinkies, and the whitey haired girl… Arthur, what're you talking to the women for!? There's a beautiful, pristine battlefield before your eyes, and you waste it talking to some chicks?"
Raiden laughed a bit, taking the Dragonslayer and poking Arthur with it.
What Lucy saw was a silent, traitorous friend, allied with the man who killed her father right in front of the both of them.