The earth groaned beneath the weight of their presence.
The red-robed man's body swelled, bones creaking as scales erupted across his skin, each one glowing with veins of molten fire. His eyes blazed like twin furnaces as wings unfurled, scattering embers across the battlefield. With a roar that shook the heavens, he shed his human guise entirely, standing revealed as a crimson dragon. Fire spilled from his maw, rippling like a tidal wave that devoured the horizon.
Opposite him, the tyrannical man did not flinch. He simply tightened his fists, his frame bulging as cords of muscle twisted like steel cables under his skin. His aura surged, heavy and suffocating, the raw embodiment of dominance. When he stomped the ground, the rock shattered in concentric rings, and the fire rushing toward him split apart as though cowed by his will.
"You think fire can burn me?" His voice thundered, gravel rough, his grin sharp and unyielding. "I am the weight the world bends under."
The crimson dragon answered with another roar, its voice layered with both fury and disdain. Heat exploded outward, searing the air, reducing stone to liquid glass. With a single beat of his wings, he shot forward, claws wreathed in blazing domination, every strike carrying the intent to rule.
The tyrant met him head-on.
His fist slammed into the dragon's claw, and the world convulsed. The impact detonated the earth, sending fire and rock careening into the sky. The shockwave flattened what little remained of the barren landscape, and for an instant, it seemed the heavens themselves had cracked.
The dragon's flames curled around the man, wrapping his body in inferno. But instead of burning, the man's skin darkened, veins bulging, as he forced his way through the fire with sheer willpower. His other fist drove upward, smashing into the dragon's jaw, forcing the massive beast to reel back.
The dragon's tail whipped around, fast as a lightning strike, crashing into the man's side and sending him skidding across the battlefield, carving trenches in the earth. The man stood almost instantly, spitting blood but laughing, the sound booming with savagery.
"Good! Your flames have teeth. But do you know what it means to fight someone who has never bowed?!"
He charged again, his body moving like a cannonball, each step detonating the ground. The dragon unleashed torrents of flame, but the man plowed through, muscles swelling as though feeding on the very resistance of the fire. He leapt, fist raised, and drove it into the dragon's chest.
The beast roared, scales shattering under the impact, molten blood spraying in arcs of fire. But the dragon's domination surged, the wound igniting, forcing the tyrant back with a burst of scorching pressure.
Wounded but far from defeated, the dragon's flames raged brighter. His massive form compressed, shrinking—not weakening, but condensing. The thirty-meter titan coiled into a ten-meter juggernaut, his scales sharper, his speed doubling, every movement like the flicker of a torch ready to consume the night.
Now his strikes came faster, claws slashing through the air like crimson comets, flames tearing at the tyrant's flesh. Yet every blow the man took only seemed to carve him stronger. His fists bled, his ribs cracked, but his aura thickened, an immovable wall of brutality.
The battlefield became chaos incarnate—flame storms spiraling like tornadoes, shockwaves splitting the ground into jagged ravines. Each clash between claw and fist created craters, sparks of lightning from their force dancing across the battlefield.
The dragon dove, jaws wide, only for the tyrant to catch his maw with both hands, muscles straining, teeth grinding as he held back the beast's bite with raw strength alone. Fire spilled over him, yet he stood screaming into the blaze, veins bulging, refusing to yield. With a primal roar, he twisted and slammed the dragon into the earth, shattering the crust into molten rubble.
The dragon's wings snapped open, unleashing a gale of fire that blasted the man off his body. The beast rose, molten flames dripping from his jaws. But even as he readied his next attack—
A streak of silver tore through the sky.
The silver dragon, scales sparking with lightning, descended like judgment itself. His roar mingled with thunder as he joined his brother on the battlefield, arcs of lightning splitting the clouds as his body condensed into a lethal form brimming with speed and ferocity.
The tyrannical man wiped the blood from his mouth, his grin widening. "Two dragons, huh? Good. I was starting to feel lonely."
The battlefield, now cracked and burning, trembled under the weight of what was to come.
…
The battlefield of flame and muscle shook with chaos, but somewhere beyond the storm, another battle had already begun.
Khai's silver spear gleamed under the starlight, every twirl of its shaft stirring ripples through the air. Opposite him, Damien's halberd glowed with a killing intent so sharp it cut the silence itself. Their auras pressed against one another, bending the very sky.
"You always hid behind father's approval," Damien sneered, his eyes like burning coals. "But now, let's see what you are without him."
Khai's reply was wordless. He swung his spear in a wide arc, the air collapsing into a vacuum before bursting outward in a devastating wave. The ground split, and Damien moved—halberd flashing, carving apart the spear-light, his body slipping through the opening like a phantom.
The clash came in the next breath. Metal against metal, darkness against illusion. Sparks burst, echoing across the stars as the shockwave rippled into the distance.
For a moment, both brothers vanished, their movements too fast for mortal eyes. Then, a streak of silver light and a slash of black energy collided in the sky—
—and the heavens themselves split open.
The clouds peeled apart as though slashed by unseen blades, and for an instant, the world was nothing but blinding light and rolling thunder.
When the dust cleared, Damien stood, his halberd dripping with destructive energy, a twisted smile curving his lips. Across from him, Khai's beard was singed, his eyes still calm but burning with resolve, his spear braced against the cracked earth.
"Brother," Damien said, voice low, almost tender. "I'll carve your truth out of your corpse."
Khai's grip tightened on his spear, silver illusions gathering around him like ghostly warriors. "Then come and try."
They launched forward again, their weapons about to collide—
And the chapter ended in silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath.