Near to their goal, a new challenge emerged: a group of noble blooded dragons arrived on the scene, their scales shimmering like metal. These were not scavengers or mercenaries; they were veterans, warriors of renown, likely drawn by the tales of the Dragon Emperor's corpse and the chaos it invited.
Zoklath's lip curled as he watched them take position across the upper vertebra ridges. "High-bloods," he growled. "Not here to scavenge. They're measuring us."
Raijin's eyes crackled faintly with restrained lightning. "They won't charge blind. Someone wants to know if you're worth worrying about."
Artorius said nothing at first. He stood atop a jagged rise of bone overlooking the narrowing rib corridor ahead, the suppression collar cold against his throat. His gaze moved slowly across the enemy formation.
The first hovered high, wings barely beating. A zephyr dragon, sleek and elegant, her scales reflecting distorted images of the battlefield below. A sky tactician. Precision striker.
To the left, standing upon a cracked vertebra like a throne of stone, was a lava dragon. His scales glowed faintly beneath blackened plates, molten light pulsing through fissures in his armor. A brute commander. Shock assault.
The third noble dragon did not stand tall or fly. It seemed half-buried within the corpse terrain itself. A dust dragon, its body constantly shedding clouds of fine, razor-edged particulate that flowed like living sand around it. Control. Attrition. Battlefield denial. A balanced triad.
Artorius weighed his options. Direct engagement was dangerous; attempting to bypass them could leave his rear exposed. Once, facing even one of them would have been a nightmare. Now? Artorius exhaled slowly and smiled.
He gave his orders, his solution being a containment maneuver: divide forces into layers. Sword Dragon elites would engage lightly, feinting, while ex-slaves and reformed gladiators held static positions. The constructs, though unpredictable, could act as a rapid strike unit to disrupt enemy advances. "Signal the southern ridge," Artorius commanded. "We'll compress their forward movement. Let's see if they bite."
With their movement across the ridge, the high-blooded dragons advanced to meet them and Artorius' stratagem unfolded perfectly. The lava dragon took the bait immediately. The feints drew them into a narrow corridor along the upper ribs, where Raijin's forces waited hidden behind bone arches.
With a thunderous roar, the lava dragon leapt from his perch, molten breath spewing in a wide arc that turned bone to slag. His force surged with him heavy drakes wreathed in heat, shock troops designed to smash resistance head-on.
"Predictable," Artorius murmured. The elites fell back. Just enough. The lava dragon pressed harder, confident, arrogant. He did not notice how the terrain subtly narrowed, how the ribs curved inward, how the pathways he advanced through funneled his mass into a kill corridor.
Above, the zephyr dragoness came in for the strike. Wind lancers dove from the clouds, wings folded tight, wind screaming around them as they aimed directly for Artorius' command position. Zoklath flew out to meet them in the air with their winged soldiers and a duel unfolded before him.
He kept his level head as he watched the fight unfold. "Get ready to fight the last noble dragon," he called out to the Crimson Drakonar. He raised a single hand. The constructs activated. Buried deep within the bone ridges, dormant emperor-ichor veins flared explosively as they appeared cutting into the lava dragon forces.
The dust dragon finally moved. Duststorms erupted across the rib valleys, visibility dropping to nothing. Distance warped. Sound distorted. Units reported enemies where none existed, then screamed as real attacks came from unexpected angles.
The Crimson Drakonar begrudgingly entered the battlefield at his order with a roar the duststorm parted as he went head to head with the Dust dragon.
Trapped, the enemy dragons found themselves cut off from retreat, facing volleys of sharp attacks from the Sword Dragon constructs. The battle was swift and brutal. Artorius' coordination ensured minimal losses among his ranks while devastating the enemy's cohesion.
By the end, the three noble-blooded dragons were dead, their forces either captured, fled, or slain. "Discipline wins the day," Artorius murmured, scanning the battlefield. His forces were bloodied, but organized, and the outer regions of the corpse's tail were increasingly under his control.
He did not even need to lift a finger as he held himself back from enter the fray worried that who ever sent them here would show up. Nonetheless his commanders proved their worth and easily defeated their foes.
And Artorius couldn't help to think to himself just how far he had come. Now taking on 3 noble dragons like they were just a nuisance. He remembered when he was fighting to the death against his first noble dragon
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Artorius Pendrath's forces halted at the crest of a vertebra ridge, they were close to the tailbone now and planned to station themselves there and control the dragon tail all the way down to its extremities. It was a natural rampart over which any army must pass. His troops fanned out across the ridge, infantry taking the narrow, bone-strewn passes, heavy constructs bracing against jagged ridges, and gladiators scanning the lower valleys for ambushes.
Looking at the further levels he gained, he wasn't sure if he should be happy to be here or irritated because his progress spoke for itself.
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Class: [Storybook Squire] → Lv. 27
Stat gains: +1 Str, +1 Con, +1 Will, +1 Char, +1 Luc!
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Race: [True-Blood DragonMen] → Lv. 28
He had to take down a couple more obstacles to come here but in the end it was well worth it thanks to the levels he gained.
However it looked like others also had that idea to take command here. From the horizon, mirrored dragons descended. Their wings blotted out the sun, each movement a flash of black and silver. They landed in perfect formation along the fractured tail ridge. A hush fell over Artorius' ranks. Even the constructs paused, gears whining in tense anticipation.
Artorius tilted his head, eyes scanning the mirrored army. He saw the traps embedded in their formation, false leads designed to lure his troops into fatal corridors, openings in the ridge that would funnel men into ichor pits.
The Mirror Dragon King emerged from the center of the army, his scales polished to a sheen, reflecting every surface. His eyes glinted with cold intelligence. Young, yes, but cunning. His claws flexed, wings arched. He roared, a sound that split the ridge and made some of Artorius' men falter. The mirrors around him roared in synchrony, a terrifying, synchronous sound.
"Scaleless One," the young King called, voice sharp as broken glass. "Many heard of your deeds to now see you become a dog of the Sword Dragon. How low the mighty have fallen."
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/13721973860964792/
[Royal Mirror Dragonling — Level 36]
Artorius did not respond even he felt a bit ashamed of himself. The mirrored army surged forward in perfect, fluid motion, cutting off retreat paths, shaping a corridor of death. Artorius raised his hand, signaling his forces into motion.
The first clash was brutal. Dragons collided, scales scraping scales, weapons cleaving through bone and muscle. Blood prayed across the ridge. Mirrors shattered, fragmenting into deadly shards that cut through armor.
A mirror dragon lunged at him, claws snapping, scales gleaming. Artorius dodged, rolling across jagged bone, slicing through one with a precision strike that sent ichor spraying. Another mirrored dragon struck, but he countered, pivoting along the vertebra, using the terrain like a weapon.
The mirrored army advanced relentlessly. Artorius' infantry fired from behind bone barricades, crossbows and harpoons striking dragons mid-flight. Gladiators sprang from ridges to flank mirror units, slicing tails and piercing wings. Constructs, massive and mechanical, moved in tandem, blocking escape routes, crushing illusions, scattering clones.
Yet the Mirror Dragon King was not deterred. He moved forward, wings like eclipsing shadows, claws cutting through bone, sending shards flying like artillery. Artorius met the King head-on. Claws struck, teeth snapped, and the clash of scales and flesh echoed like thunder.
The collar suppressed most of his abilities but at this point he was used to it. He moved with relentless precision, parrying blows, dodging death, countering with exact strikes aimed at weak points in the King's armor-like scales. Blood and ichor splattered across the vertebrae ridge, yet he refused to yield.
He also knew 3 words of power which he used to great effect. Crystals crashed into mirror shards creating a cloud of dust. Reflected images of the Mirror Dragon flickered and shimmered around him, an effect that distorted perception. To the untrained eye, he was getting attacked from everywhere at once, from multiple angles.
Around the two leaders, the armies clashed. Artorius' pit-hardened warriors fought in squads, forming irregular yet effective phalanxes. Crossbow bolts zipped through the air and gladiators flanked, swinging serrated swords designed to pierce joints or sever wings.
The mirror army acted as one collective whole and they seemed to be replaced immediately by mirror images to any that fell, creating the illusion of infinite numbers. Worse yet they were also able to vanish behind illusions, only to reappear as ambushers striking from unexpected angles.
The Mirror Dragon King roared, frustration and fury twisting his features. "Why won't you go down?" Even though he was putting up a good fight he had one arm tied behind his back and couldn't use everything he had while the Mirror dragon was going all out.
Still he gave the mirror dragon a run for its money as even with all the odds stacked for it, it could not put him down. He was one resilient cockroach.
"This ends this," he shouted as he poured up his greatest attack and then, as the King lunged for a final strike, the sky tore. The wind screamed across the tail ridge, lifting debris and ichor in a tornado of raw force. A sword, impossibly massive, descended from above, its edge glowing with unrestrained power. The Sword Dragon had arrived.
In a single, unstoppable motion, the blade cut through the Mirror Dragon King. Scales, bone, and muscle parted like paper, the King's roar cut short. Mirrors shattered, illusions vanished, and the ridge fell silent except for the wind and the echoes of battle.
However from the corpse appeared a duplicate of the Mirror dragon, who looked severely wounded but still alive. The Sword Dragon couldn't help smiling while Artorius looked confused. "Ahh, I see you have learned a law, Kymro."
Without saying another word, the Mirror dragon tried to escape but the Sword Dragon shook his head, "That won't help you!" Another sword strike flew out and this time Artorius felt a razor sharp feeling coming from it.
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 28
Stat gains: +1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
Artorius fell to one knee, chest heaving, blood and ichor mixing at his feet. Around him, his army looked to him and then to the Sword Dragon. They were alive. They had fought. And though the Collar suppressed his power, it had been his strategy, leadership, and relentlessness that had brought them to this moment. He would have felt annoyed that the Sword Dragon stole his kill if he didn't get some exp for wearing it down.
Still he remarked, "I almost had him!"
The Sword Dragon hovered above the battlefield and then turned to look at him. "He was holding back. He knew I was lurking around looking for an opening which I thank you for creating but if he went all out you would have lost it is as simple as that!"
Artorius stared at him and knew deep down he spoke the truth but still asked, "Why?!"
"He knew a Law and you don't! If you used his Law which I believe was Copy, he would have been able to double, triple or even quadruple his attacks. Overwhelming you and crushing you."
"Well I wouldn't have been in that situation if I had this collar off," Artorius pulled at the Mana suppression collar.
"The Multiverse is a fascinating place where even the most lowest of creatures can get an ability that is well beyond their means. You have been granted by the system a mutation which is a danger to you."
Artorius simply glowered thinking about all the ways he wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face and beat him to death.
"Anyways well done, let's secure this area!"
Artorius really had to give it to him, show up the last minute and basically steal all the credit now boss everyone around.
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Author Note: This arc will be like a battle royal! Last man standing wins it all!
Mirror king has copy law more on Laws soon.
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Chapter 34 Recap!
Leveled up Race: True-Blood DragonMen to Lvl. 27!
+1 STR, +1 DEX, +1 CON, +1 PER, +1 CHA
Leveled up Archetype: Leader to Lvl. 27!
+1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
Leveled up Class: Storybook Squire to Lvl. 27!
+1 Str, +1 Con, +1 Will, +1 Char, +1 Luc!
Leveled up Race: True-Blood DragonMen to Lvl. 28!
Leveled up Archetype: Leader to Lvl. 28!