Under the combined assault of three wizards and three vampires, the black dragon finally realized that it had truly fallen into a desperate battle.
Originally, dealing with just three wizards had already stretched it to its limits.
The greatest threat among them was undoubtedly the feathered serpent the wizard had transformed into.
The creature radiated holy power from every scale.
Although most of its spells focused on healing and support, every strike carried divine energy capable of bypassing the dragon's tough scales and inflicting real damage.
The effect rivaled that of a paladin's Holy Light.
At the same time, the feathered serpent was absurdly agile.
It moved through the air like a fish swimming through water.
Compared to the black dragon's bulky body, it was infinitely more flexible.
Almost every attack aimed at it missed.
Of course, in a one-on-one battle, such agility wouldn't matter much.
If the dragon kept pursuing relentlessly, sooner or later it would land a hit.
The difference in durability between them was enormous.
A few successful strikes would be enough to cripple the feathered serpent.
Unfortunately—
This wasn't a duel.
It was a war.
And the feathered serpent had allies.
The first was the silver-haired witch wielding a sword.
She was supposedly a wizard.
Yet she fought like the most fearless warrior and the most elusive assassin.
Her nonstop teleportation made the dragon miserable.
No matter how it twisted or maneuvered through the air, she could always appear precisely where she wanted, carve several fresh wounds into its body, and disappear before any counterattack arrived.
Again, in a duel, the dragon could eventually force such a fighter into exhaustion.
But this wasn't a duel.
It was a war.
The blonde mage constantly summoning water creatures was equally irritating.
The massive and large Water Elementals had already reached the threshold necessary to injure the dragon.
Their endless stream of frost attacks left it overwhelmed.
As a black dragon, its strongest resistances were against fire and earth.
Water and air magic, however, dealt full damage.
In other words, water magic struck directly at its weakness.
That was exactly why Lewis and Jaina had chosen Blizzard against the half-dragons and drake-beasts earlier.
The dragon found the strategy strangely familiar.
Then it remembered.
Dragons themselves loved doing exactly the same thing.
If only its real drake armies were present, these summoned water creatures wouldn't have lasted a moment.
Unfortunately, the blonde mage was an expert.
No matter how many elementals the dragon destroyed, replacements appeared almost instantly.
As for the three vampires…
The dragon had met them before.
They had clashed in the past.
And the dragon had easily beaten them back.
In its eyes, they were merely three insignificant mosquitoes.
Thanks to their speed and durability, they could annoy it briefly.
Even when struck directly, they could survive a few hits.
To be fair, most of this world's armored vehicles couldn't do that.
But that was where their usefulness ended.
Their attacks were little more than scratches.
Unfortunately, someone had recently handed the mosquitoes venomous fangs.
Now every bite brought agony.
Their blades left wounds that numbed flesh and poisoned blood.
And every so often, the dragon's consciousness would blur unexpectedly, creating openings for even more attacks.
No matter how durable a dragon was, even it couldn't endure this forever.
As blood continued to flow from its growing collection of wounds, weakness slowly crept through its body.
The dragon understood.
It could not continue fighting like this.
The final trump card had to be used.
With a powerful beat of its wings, it temporarily forced its enemies back and rose dozens of meters into the air.
Ignoring the attacks from the Water Elementals, it drew in an enormous breath.
The instant Lewis saw that exaggerated inhalation, his eyelids twitched.
Unpleasant memories surfaced.
Was this thing about to recreate a certain black dragon princess's signature move?
His voice immediately echoed through every ally's mind.
"Scatter, idiots!"
If his telepathic abilities were stronger, Lewis would have directly highlighted the entire danger zone inside everyone's vision.
One day he probably could.
With his absurd computational ability and ever-evolving psychic powers, it wasn't impossible.
If that happened, future battles under his command would resemble a real-time strategy game.
For his teammates, combat would become a raid boss encounter complete with battlefield markers, warnings, and tactical overlays.
Even now, however, his telepathy was enough.
The instant they received the warning, everyone reacted.
The three vampires immediately fled into the jungle at maximum speed.
Ciri used consecutive spatial jumps and appeared over a hundred meters away.
Lewis flew upward, gaining altitude to escape the blast radius.
Only Jaina remained where she stood.
Then came destruction.
The dragon's breath descended from the heavens.
The flames surpassed every previous breath attack.
An entire section of the battlefield became an inferno.
Fire spread more than sixty meters in every direction.
The battlefield transformed into a scorched hellscape.
The frozen terrain created by Blizzard evaporated instantly.
Half-dragon corpses and drake-beast remains were reduced to charcoal.
Yet within that sea of fire, something endured.
At the center of the inferno stood a block of brilliant blue ice.
No matter how fiercely the flames raged, it remained untouched.
This was one of the most famous survival spells of Azeroth's mages.
Ice Block.
Also known simply as…
The Icebox.
This third-circle spell trapped the caster within magical ice.
The price was temporary immobility.
The reward was near-invulnerability.
Perfect for surviving attacks one couldn't dodge or withstand.
Breaking through an Ice Block generally required power several magnitudes beyond the mage who cast it.
The dragon's breath lasted nearly ten seconds.
By the time it ended, the entire area had become wasteland.
Perhaps fire elementals would emerge here in future decades.
Perhaps the land would remain unsuitable for life for centuries.
Yet despite all that destruction, the attack achieved nothing.
Especially not against Jaina.
Seeing her emerge unharmed from the Ice Block made the dragon's anger explode.
Suddenly, it remembered every frustrating battle it had ever fought against mages in Azeroth.
Its ultimate attack had accomplished absolutely nothing.
After exhausting itself, the dragon descended to the ground, temporarily unable to move while recovering its breath.
Lewis had been waiting precisely for this moment.
The counterattack began.
Ciri enchanted her Arcane Sword with an Electric Orb and flashed directly before the dragon.
Her blade stabbed straight into its chest.
The three vampires immediately swarmed over its body.
Armed with basilisk-fang daggers, they targeted the neck, where scales were thinner and nerves more concentrated.
The dragon attempted to dodge.
Then its consciousness blurred.
By the time it recovered, its body refused to obey.
It could only remain frozen in place as the daggers approached.
Chafrina's illusion ability combined perfectly with Jaina's Ninth-Circle Spell:
Dominate Monster.
Sweat poured down Jaina's face.
Both hands extended toward the dragon.
She fought desperately against its will, forcing it to remain still.
Only now did she realize how absurdly powerful its mental resistance truly was.
No dragon of this level should possess such terrifying willpower.
Fortunately, Lewis stepped forward.
Canceling his feathered serpent form, he appeared beside Jaina and raised his wand.
"Sixth-Circle Spell—Baleful Polymorph!"
Magical light shot from his wand and struck the dragon.
Nothing happened.
Even an upcast Baleful Polymorph failed.
The dragon's physical strength was simply too overwhelming.
Its monstrous constitution far exceeded the limits Lewis's Transfiguration could normally overcome.
But Lewis was no ordinary wizard.
Seeing the spell stall, he produced a crimson crystal with his free hand.
The pinnacle achievement of alchemy.
The ultimate manifestation of the Transfiguration School.
The Philosopher's Stone.
Alchemy, at its core, transformed one substance into another.
Its essence perfectly aligned with Transfiguration.
That was why history's greatest alchemists were often history's greatest transfigurers.
And the Philosopher's Stone possessed far more uses than turning lead into gold or creating Elixirs of Life.
It could amplify transfiguration magic itself.
For example:
A temporary transfiguration could be made permanent.
Or—
A transfiguration that normally shouldn't work could forcibly overcome limitations and take effect.
Naturally, there were limits.
If the target had been Deathwing himself, sacrificing ten Philosopher's Stones probably wouldn't have helped.
But this dragon?
Already weakened by countless injuries?
Already drained by battle?
It remained within the acceptable range.
At last, after consuming most of the Philosopher's Stone's power, the dragon's resistance shattered.
Its enormous body rapidly shrank.
The giant black dragon diminished again and again until only a tiny black cat remained.
The moment it realized what had happened, the black cat tried to run.
Lewis calmly grabbed it by the scruff of its neck.
With that, the battle ended.
The Philosopher's Stone had dimmed significantly.
Its former brilliance was gone.
Most of its power had been spent.
Now it served only one purpose:
A transfiguration anchor.
As long as Lewis maintained control over it, the black dragon would remain nothing more than a small black cat forever.
If you want to read 60 chapters ahead of the public release, head over to: Patreon.com/RedString