"It wasn't only cannabis growing there," Johan said calmly while staring at the massive screen displaying the green fields below.
"There were also belladonna plants hidden among the leaves."
Libra quickly turned her head. Her brows furrowed together.
The Ancient One, who had been sitting calmly moments earlier, slowly tilted his head. His eyes narrowed at the mention of the name.
Meanwhile, throughout the mythological stands, trolls and dwarves began whispering among themselves.
They knew all about snake venom, poisonous mushrooms, and magical healing roots.
But the name "belladonna" was unfamiliar to them.
"Another poisonous plant from the human world?" one dwarf growled quietly, his clasped hands tightening with unease.
Upon hearing Johan's explanation, Dr. Aldrich Vermund—a botanist and chemical medical expert seated not far from the leaders' thrones—instantly turned toward the scorched field below.
"I never expected Johan to suggest planting belladonna in the arena as well," he murmured in disbelief.
A young doctor sitting beside him narrowed his eyes toward the battlefield.
"Isn't that plant…"
"Yes, my boy," Aldrich answered immediately, his eyes widening with amazement.
"Atropa belladonna—also known as nightshade—contains atropine and scopolamine," Dr. Aldrich explained.
"By now, the burned plants are impossible to distinguish from one another. But originally, they had broad leaves, soft purple flowers, and glossy black berries."
"And in certain doses, those compounds can paralyze the nervous system and render even massive creatures unconscious."
A click of admiration escaped the younger doctor's tongue.
Then he quickly adjusted his glasses and searched the burning field until he spotted a single flower that had somehow survived the flames.
He swallowed nervously before speaking in a stammer.
"T-There… one belladonna flower survived."
The Ancient One clenched his claws tightly. His golden eyes burned with restrained fury.
"Magic without incantations. Poison without rituals," he muttered darkly.
"Humans… what exactly are you?"
Below them, the two-headed dragon began trembling violently, its heads swaying as though losing all balance.
Grayish-white smoke billowed from its lungs, mixed with the bitter scent of opium and belladonna.
The sky above the Celestial Colosseum, once painted gold and orange, slowly faded into pale violet—the same color as the poisonous flower itself.
A sharp hissing sound echoed amidst the roaring flames and smoke. The sound of flesh tearing grew increasingly horrifying.
Minute after minute passed, and it felt as though the fall of the Sky Guardian was only a matter of time.
At the front line, Jonatan continued whispering prayers beneath his breath, hoping the poisonous haze still lingering like purple fog would restrain the dragon just a little longer.
"Just a little more, God… please," he muttered, jaw clenched tightly.
The dragon's low growls rumbled like roars trapped between consciousness and oblivion.
Its massive body writhed uncomfortably, causing the firefighters' hearts to pound wildly due to the terrifyingly close distance between them.
The high-pressure water jet shook more violently as it tore deeper through flesh and tendons.
Behind Jonatan, the other three firefighters steadied one another with quiet murmurs beneath the shrieking sound of the raging water stream.
More obsidian scales shattered apart.
Veins dangled from the widening wound like black hoses streaked with dark crimson, pouring thick black blood that pooled around the firefighters' boots.
The smell of iron and warm blood grew stronger.
Jonatan's grip on the nozzle loosened slightly.
The stream of water no longer struck with the same savage force as before.
Then, with one final violent surge—
The water jet tore completely through the dragon's first head.
It detached from the neck and crashed onto the ground like the collapse of a massive building façade.
A wave of dust blasted through the four firefighters, throwing them off balance.
Raisa stumbled backward.
Carl lost his grip as the hose became too slippery from moisture.
"Shut off the water flow!" Jonatan shouted while struggling alone to restrain the hose thrashing like a giant serpent.
Fredy sprinted toward the truck and slammed the lever down.
The raging spray finally weakened.
Jonatan looked proudly at his teammates' quick response.
Then he raised a thumbs-up—a silent gesture of highest praise from a team leader.
Raisa slowly rose to her feet with a relieved smile.
Carl adjusted his crooked helmet while gasping heavily.
Meanwhile, Fredy collapsed into a sitting position beside the truck's body.
Jonatan turned his gaze back toward the severed dragon head.
Then toward the remaining head still attached to the body.
His eyes sharpened.
"Only one left, team," he murmured quietly.
"I hope you can all hold on just a little longer."
The cheers from the human stands rose softly like the whisper of wind.
Some wanted to celebrate in relief.
Others were too terrified to make noise, afraid the dragon might awaken from the sound.
One veteran stood with trembling hands.
A child shouted proudly.
Several spectators instinctively clutched the arms of strangers beside them.
But across the arena, the mythological faction had fallen silent.
The elves stared blankly.
The centaurs whispered in disbelief.
And the dwarves and trolls—who moments earlier had boasted about the superiority of magic—now merely stared at the battlefield with hardened jaws, confusion, and fear.
Upon his throne, The Ancient One lowered his head slightly.
His wings folded inward.
A faint shimmer appeared at the tips of his claws—so subtle that no one noticed.
The motion resembled nothing more than a harmless brush of wind.
Yet from it, a dim green glow seeped quietly into the arena floor.
Libra did not notice.
Even Johan—normally sensitive to every change around him—failed to realize something was moving beneath the battlefield, too focused on his representatives' success.
Then suddenly—
The earth trembled.
A low growl emerged from the dragon's remaining head.
Its eyes opened.
Slowly, it lifted its face again, as though a new force were flowing upward from the depths of the earth itself.
Its gigantic body writhed.
All four legs trembled as it attempted to rise despite the massive wound still gaping beside its neck.
"Commander! It's moving—!"
Carl's warning was cut short when a colossal shadow slammed into the four firefighters, hurling them several meters away.
The fire truck overturned.
Its water tank ruptured.
Electrical sparks ignited the leaking fuel, causing a small explosion along the truck's side.
Jonatan struggled back to his feet.
His helmet was cracked.
His face was blackened with soot.
Ignoring the injuries covering his body from the wreckage that had struck him moments earlier, he searched desperately for his teammates.
"Raisa! Carl! Fredy! We have to get up!" he shouted across the blackened field.
Before him, the surviving dragon stared at its fallen sibling lying motionless upon the ground.
Then it turned toward the massive wound beside its own neck.
Its jaws tightened.
Its eyes glowed red.
But what appeared there was not rage.
It was sorrow.
And respect.
"My brother… you fell to their courage."
"And courage such as that… deserves to be answered with honor."
The dragon's voice was deep and trembling, almost like two voices speaking as one.
One echoed from the world itself.
The other from the heart.
Slowly, the dragon raised its head.
The surrounding air shook violently.
The smaller fires around the battlefield suddenly extinguished, pulled inward by the dragon's massive inhalation—as though every ounce of oxygen within the arena was being devoured by a single creature.
Still lying on the ground, Jonatan raised an elbow before his face to shield himself from the swirling dust and leaves.
His face was drenched in sweat and blood.
Yet his eyes remained calm.
"Everyone! Get away from there now!"
The other three firefighters struggled to drag themselves through the truck wreckage.
But they were still dangerously close.
Only inches away from the dragon's jaws as it prepared to unleash its greatest fire breath yet.
Libra suddenly stood, breath caught in her throat.
"That attack is excessive against four small humans standing only a few steps away!"
Meanwhile, from the Solar Throne, The Ancient One watched silently.
Only a faint smile lingered at the edge of his golden metallic beak.
Raisa, positioned closest to the dragon's jaws, suddenly leapt forward.
She yanked the pin from the fire extinguisher hanging from her belt.
Then she hurled it directly into the dragon's throat with perfect precision—helped by the immense suction created from the dragon's inhalation.
The bright red cylinder flew past the fangs.
Past the tongue.
Then plunged deep into the creature's throat.
BOOM!
The shockwave blasted sand and stones into the air.
White foam erupted from the dragon's mouth, spilling outward like ocean waves swallowing its fiery breath.
The dragon choked violently, thrashing its head while foam mixed with warm blood sprayed from between its jaws.
"Move away from here now!" Raisa screamed.
The entire team staggered backward and took cover behind the burning remains of the truck.
Jonatan immediately grabbed another extinguisher and put out the flames trying to consume the vehicle.
His breathing was heavy.
Every so often, he glanced toward the dragon, which now emitted nothing but thick white smoke from its nostrils and mouth.
"What exactly did you do, Raisa?" he asked between breaths.
Raisa turned toward him, breathing hard.
Her face was blackened with soot, yet her smile radiated calmness.
"Inside a dragon's throat," she explained between breaths, "specifically near the uvula and saliva glands, there's a small flame called the soul fire. That's where every fire breath originates."
"And if that soul fire is extinguished…"
She paused briefly, staring at the dragon still coughing violently as tiny flames occasionally escaped its mouth.
"…then its fire breath loses all its power."
Jonatan stared at her in disbelief.
"How did you even—"
Raisa smiled faintly while straightening her crooked helmet.
"'Understand the battlefield first.' Have you forgotten your own teachings, Chief?"
Jonatan fell silent.
He stared at his subordinate with astonishment.
"You actually studied before coming here, didn't you? You're unbelievably diligent," he said with a soft chuckle.
Raisa nodded firmly while watching the dragon slowly lose control of its flames.
"Yes, Chief."
"Because every creature has its weakness."
"Even those that appear eternal."