The moment Genichi got a clear look at the pitch-black wyrmling, radiating an ominous aura and pressure brushing close to LV.3, he immediately rejected the idea of closing in and trading claws.
This wasn't a Minotaur, something overwhelmingly strong but still relatively simple in how it fought.
Dragons, even as juveniles, typically possessed flight, powerful breath attacks, solid resistance to magic, and physical strength that dwarfed humans.
Trying to engage a creature like that in close quarters inside a cramped underground cavern was basically asking to die.
Even with capped parameters at SSS1499, the gap in technique and the difference in experience were more than enough to push him into a corner under those claws, fangs, and tail strikes.
The most rational, and most effective, approach was to exploit his advantage in magic: stay at range, kite, and grind it down.
The instant that strategy clicked into place, the black wyrmling, fresh from slaughter and already on high alert, noticed the intruder.
Its dark-gold slit pupils snapped onto him. The dragon's jaws opened, revealing rows of bone-white teeth, and a warning roar packed with violence detonated through the cavern.
Then, with no warning at all, a dark red light flared deep in its throat.
"FWOOSH—!!"
A stream of thick, scalding dragonfire burst out, dark red like molten lava mixed with shadow. It tore through the air like a volcanic eruption, carrying heat and force meant to erase everything in its path, slamming toward Genichi's position.
The air itself crackled as it burned. The rock under it showed signs of softening, as if it might melt.
The speed and destructive power of that breath attack were beyond anything he'd faced so far.
In that split-second, his shoulder blades screamed with a familiar tearing ache and numb tingling.
A pair of demonic bat wings, covered in dark red membrane and held by a grotesque bony frame, ripped through his clothing and snapped open.
He beat them once, hard.
"Boom!"
A violent gust kicked up dust as Genichi's body shot sideways and upward like he'd been launched, barely slipping past the edge of the dark red dragonfire.
The scorching shockwave scraped beneath his feet, leaving a sharp sting.
Now airborne, with true three-dimensional mobility and distance secured, he locked onto the wyrmling below with full focus.
He didn't notice, in the shadows behind him, how Lunoire Fast's brown eyes went impossibly wide at the instant his wings appeared.
Shock flooded her face, disbelief and stunned silence, as if she'd witnessed something forbidden.
Wings?
He had wings?
That wasn't a spell effect. That was flesh.
What in the world was Genichi?
What kind of monster had Demeter recruited?
The revelation hit her like a tidal wave, but professional discipline forced her to bury every question and crush the urge to pry. She simply swallowed the shock and sharpened her gaze, tracking the battlefield with even greater intensity.
Genichi didn't hesitate in midair. The instant he cleared the breath, he raised his left hand, two fingers together like a sword, held upright before his chest, and spoke the incantation in a clear, icy voice.
"Gospel!"
Demon King Valion (Imitation) — activate!
Under the high-efficiency guidance of [Spell Compendium], magic compressed and shaped in front of him in an instant, forming an invisible, formless shockwave packed with out-of-spec destructive force. Like an electromagnetic slug fired from a railgun, it ripped through the air at terrifying speed and slammed into the black wyrmling below, which had a brief hitch in its movement after breathing fire.
This Gospel, under Genichi's deliberate control and the hidden boost from [Dragonslayer], felt even stronger than before.
"THOOM—!!!"
A heavy impact echoed through the cavern, so dull it made hearts seize.
The dark red shockwave struck the wyrmling's side ribs dead-on.
That area was covered in black scales that should have been brutally durable.
But under the combined effect of Gospel's impact and [Dragonslayer] dramatically boosting damage against dragon-type targets, something horrifying happened.
CRACK—SPLAT!
Those hard black scales shattered like brittle glass, bursting outward in fragments. The tough hide and muscle beneath were ripped open as well, torn into a gaping wound deep enough to show bone.
Dark red dragon blood surged out like a fountain, filling the air with a choking stench of blood mixed with sulfur.
"RAAAAGH—!!!"
The wyrmling let out a shriek of pure agony, far more vicious than anything before.
Its huge body stumbled backward under the sudden heavy injury. In its dark-gold slit pupils was rage, pain, and a flicker of disbelief.
It clearly hadn't expected an attack from a "tiny human" to break its proud dragon-scale defense so easily and deal damage this severe.
Even Genichi froze for a fraction of a beat in midair.
It hit that hard?
He knew Gospel had bite. He knew [Dragonslayer] gave dragon-type bonus damage.
But to crack the scales and pulp the flesh of a mutant wyrmling brushing LV.3 in a single shot still exceeded his expectations.
His instincts snapped him back.
Now wasn't the time to marvel.
While it's hurt, finish it.
"Gospel!"
Genichi lifted his fingers again without hesitation, preparing to fire a second shockwave and end the wounded wyrmling.
But the moment the next incantation was about to leave his mouth, the situation flipped.
Down below, the wyrmling that had been screaming and staggering in apparent pain suddenly flashed a disturbingly human glint in its eyes, a mix of fury and cunning.
Its bleeding body moved.
Not with brute speed.
With something ghostlike.
It vanished from where it stood, as if the air swallowed it whole, leaving only a blurred black afterimage behind.
Too fast.
Alarm bells screamed in Genichi's head.
He cut off the incantation midstream and twisted his wings hard, forcing his body to torque sideways in midair.
A black shadow, carrying a reeking gale, ripped through the space where he'd been hovering like a spear piercing the air.
Razor dragon claws passed so close they nearly kissed his nose and side. The wind pressure alone scraped his skin raw with pain.
The wyrmling.
It had exploded into that kind of speed after taking a heavy hit, launching a lethal counter.
The burst was so fast that even Genichi, with SSS1499 Agility and mid-flight mobility, had almost failed to react.
Cold sweat soaked his back instantly.
He shot upward, gaining altitude. His heart hammered in his chest.
If he'd been slower by even a fraction of a second, those claws would have ripped him apart, or the wyrmling would have seized him and dragged him into close combat.
This mutated black wyrmling didn't just have strong defense and lethal breath.
It had been hiding a terrifying burst speed as well.
Worse, it wasn't mindless. It had enough intelligence to use the "frenzy after injury" as cover, baiting the opponent into a mistake, then striking with a killing ambush.
"That speed… I could barely even see it…"
Fine sweat beaded on Genichi's forehead. His eyes turned heavy and sharp.
He realized he'd still underestimated how dangerous a near-LV.3 mutant dragon could be.
Kiting was still viable, but that burst speed crushed his reaction window and his casting window. The margin for error was now razor-thin.
The wyrmling missed its first kill, then twisted its huge body in the air with startling agility. Its dark-gold slit pupils locked onto Genichi again as a low, murderous growl rolled from its throat.
The wound at its side was still bleeding, but it didn't seem to have crippled it. If anything, it only fed its ferocity.
The fight had entered a more dangerous, more unpredictable phase.
Genichi drew a slow breath, forcing his mind back into ice. His thoughts accelerated, searching for the next answer.
And in the distance, Lunoire had already clenched her fist. Cold light flashed in her brown eyes. Her body leaned forward slightly, ready to intervene the instant this duel crossed into unavoidable death.
(End of Chapter)
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