"Ha! You? Against me?"
Dragons always possessed an instinctive disdain when facing fragile mortals. As the former Earth-Warder and the strongest among the Dragon Aspects, Neltharion's arrogance was even more pronounced than that of his kin.
In his eyes, though Igrul was the leader of the Drogbar, the leader of slaves was still a slave. He didn't think this creature, whose weapons were so primitive... wait.
Noticing the two glinting one-handed axes in Igrul's hands, Neltharion finally realized something was amiss. Those two axes looked remarkably familiar; he felt as if he had seen them somewhere before.
"Lowly slave, from where did you steal those weapons?"
The twin axes clashed with a crisp metallic ring. Igrul sneered, mocking him, "It seems your brain really has been scorched. Do you not even recognize weapons from your own collection?"
Neltharion's draconic slit pupils suddenly contracted, and the rage on his massive face intensified. "Vile slave! You dared to plunder my treasury!"
With his armor plating not yet fully secured, Neltharion did not flap his broad leathery wings to take flight to avoid tearing his body again; instead, he simply sat upright on the ground.
The corrupted Black Dragon King indeed had the capital to look down on Igrul. If they were to fight face-to-face without considering other factors, even if Neltharion sat motionless, Igrul would find it difficult to breach those sturdy dragon scales to deal a fatal blow.
A vast gap in power was not something that could be bridged simply by changing weapons. Although Igrul's blood boiled at the prospect of escaping enslavement, his many hardships had tempered his heart into something resilient; he did not let his emotions cloud his judgment.
"Roar!"
A breath of Shadowflame swept through the cavern, instantly covering the area where Igrul and the others stood. Neltharion did not lower his guard despite the surface appearance; having enslaved the Drogbar for countless years, he had a fair understanding of their abilities.
Sure enough, Igrul utilized his natural affinity for the earth element to lead Andreas, Huln, and the others through an earth-burrowing shift to change their position. When they reappeared, the group was already behind Neltharion's flank.
"Begin the attack!"
Huln gripped the Spear of the Eagle tightly, his powerful voice shouting words of encouragement. "The Earth Mother is with us! For the future of the Highmountain tribes—charge!"
As the most valiant High Chieftain of his people, Huln unleashed a battle cry and led with a Heroic Leap to close the distance. The sharp Spear of the Eagle struck Neltharion's right flank, sending sparks flying against the hardened scales.
"Roar!"
The Spear of the Eagle was, after all, an artifact infused with a portion of Ohn'ahra's power. Although the spear had not yet reached the heights of power it would possess when passed down to future heroes, combined with Huln's formidable personal strength, it finally pierced Neltharion's scales.
A minor wound was nothing compared to the agony of his body tearing apart, yet Neltharion was both shocked and enraged that these tiny mortals could actually harm him.
"Begone!"
A thick dragon tail swept toward them with a sharp whistling sound. Huln, having landed his blow, did not linger to fight. He threw out the grappling hook on his left arm, catching a protruding rock created by Igrul's magic, narrowly dodging the tail swipe. While still in mid-air, Huln did not forget to deliver a powerful downward swing with his spear, carving a long wound across the fast-moving tail.
Facing such a lumbering giant, Andreas chose the agile Black Panther form. His claws, infused with Shadow power, sliced through Neltharion's scales as easily as a knife through butter.
"Roar!"
Neltharion, long suffering from the pain of his body fracturing, could ignore the minor wounds caused by physical attacks, but the highly corrosive Shadow power entering his body immediately made him howl in pain. Noticing the small black panther darting back and forth near his hind legs, Neltharion sensed a familiar Shadow energy and bellowed with eyes spitting fire, "You again!!"
"I haven't even settled the score from the Well of Eternity, and you dare show your face before me so brazenly!"
Whoosh!
Deftly dodging a swipe from Neltharion's front claw, the black panther continued to deal damage around the spot where the left front claw landed. Within a single second, numerous tiny wounds emitting black mist appeared on Neltharion's left limb.
"Growl! Die!"
Though these attacks were not life-threatening, the wounds Andreas inflicted caused a lingering, throbbing pain. Neltharion was driven into a towering rage by this annoying, flea-like panther.
Ignoring the risk of his body tearing, Neltharion flapped his wings and lifted off the ground, breathing small, rapid bursts of Shadowflame toward Andreas. At the moment the flames were about to touch him, the black panther vanished into thin air, reappearing dozens of meters away seconds later.
Taking a light breath of relief, Andreas was pleased with the success of his newly developed Shadow Trek. He had worried he might fail under pressure during its first practical application, but fortunately, it worked perfectly. The principle was simple: briefly stepping into the Shadow Realm to cross a distance before returning to the physical world. He had used a crude version years ago to infiltrate the lair, but after years of refinement, he could finally use it skillfully and rapidly in combat.
Looking at Neltharion's seemingly unfazed state, Andreas sighed helplessly. While attacks with Shadow power were effective, the difference in size was too great; Andreas felt like he was merely giving Neltharion a pedicure.
"Stupid dragon, where are you looking!"
As Neltharion fixed his murderous gaze on Andreas, Huln hurled the Spear of the Eagle, embedding it into the underbelly exposed as Neltharion took flight. The scales on a dragon's belly were relatively weak. Once the spear entered, Huln immediately pulled the chain in his hand, dragging the artifact back out at a strange angle and leaving a jagged wound across Neltharion's abdomen.
Huln, a master of the art of taunting, drew Neltharion's attention with both words and actions. Igrul had shifted his role in this battle; he no longer charged at the front as he had during the opening provocation, but instead hid quietly in the rear, using earth elements to bolster the team with supportive spells.
"Enough!"
Being repeatedly wounded by a group of tiny mortals, the proud Black Dragon King finally lost his patience. "I am Neltharion, King of the Black Dragons, the noble Earth-Warder!"
Neltharion let out a long roar toward the heavens. The black-and-red floor of the entire cavern began to turn a glowing crimson as the scalding magma, spurred by the Earth-Warder's power, began to churn with life.
"Mortals, regret your helplessness. My lair shall be your grave!"