The roar of a dragon echoed across the battlefield, silencing everything in its wake. The once chaotic cacophony of beastly howls and gunfire halted abruptly, as if the entire world had been frozen in time. The sudden shift was jarring, an oppressive stillness descending like the calm before a storm.
Weaker beasts began trembling uncontrollably under the immense pressure radiating from the roar. A wave of blistering heat swept across the ruined battlefield, causing the temperature to rise perceptibly. Around Muria, the remnants of crumbled buildings and the corpses of fallen monsters spontaneously ignited. Even some of the weaker beasts were engulfed in flames, their shrieks of agony piercing the silence before they were reduced to ash.
"What... what is that?" one of the God Machine users stammered, his voice trembling as he gazed at the unfolding phenomenon.
"I don't know," replied their leader, Somar, his eyes fixed on Muria. "But it doesn't seem like a bad thing."
All eyes turned toward Muria, who stood at the epicenter of this bizarre event. Even the monsters had halted their advance, their instincts screaming at them to stay put. Meanwhile, the patrol unit, too shaken to act, could only watch and wait.
"What the hell is Fenrir doing?" someone muttered, the oppressive atmosphere making it hard to breathe.
"Come out already! Why are you dragging your feet?" Muria called out impatiently, his tone tinged with annoyance as he raised his head toward the swirling spatial distortion above him.
ROAR!
Another deafening dragon roar answered his command. A massive, regal, and terrifying dragon head slowly emerged from the portal. With its arrival, the heat and pressure intensified, making the very air feel heavy and oppressive.
BOOM!
As the dragon's head pushed through the spatial rift, the already darkened skies grew even more ominous. Bolts of destructive lightning streaked across the heavens, crackling with barely contained energy as if ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"What... what is that?" muttered Auston, the Ancient Red Dragon who had just emerged. His gaze fixed on the thunderous storm above him, a trace of apprehension flickering across his otherwise proud features.
"What are you afraid of?" Muria said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. "As long as I'm here, no lightning will strike you."
"Are you sure?" Auston asked hesitantly, his massive draconic form still half-emerged from the portal.
"Quit wasting time and get out here," Muria snapped, his voice stern. "Even if the lightning does strike, it won't kill you."
"Fine," Auston muttered, his tone reluctant but resigned. Emboldened by Muria's assurance, he finally stepped fully into the world.
As Auston surveyed his surroundings, his sharp eyes took in the destroyed cityscape, the quivering beasts, and the cautious, wide-eyed humans below. But none of it held his interest for long. Instead, his attention quickly shifted to Muria, his fiery gaze narrowing.
"Boss," Auston rumbled, his voice deep and resonant, "why are you so small?"
"It's just a disguise," Muria replied, meeting Auston's molten gold eyes with a calm gaze of his own.
For a moment, Auston hesitated, his draconic pride stirring as a flicker of rebellion crossed his mind. But then he saw it—a glimmer of Muria's true power in his luminous, sun-like golden eyes. The red dragon immediately abandoned any thoughts of testing his "boss." The disparity in their power was still as vast as ever.
"Why even bother with a disguise?" Auston asked, his curiosity piqued.
"To avoid being struck by lightning," Muria replied nonchalantly.
"Can you teach me how to do that?" Auston's interest was instantly piqued.
"You're not ready for it yet," Muria dismissed him with a glance. The technique he used, the Heaven-Demon Secret Art, wasn't something a dragon like Auston—still far from reaching the pinnacle of Legendary power—could hope to master.
The Heaven-Demon Secret Art was a profound method, one that allowed its user to seamlessly integrate into any world, gaining a "legal" status in its laws. For powerful beings, this legality could be the difference between life and death.
"Fine," Auston muttered, visibly disappointed but unwilling to press further.
"If you really want to stay safe," Muria said, a sly grin tugging at his lips, "then prove your worth by killing all these beasts for me." He gestured toward the quivering monsters surrounding them.
"That's it? Just kill them?"
"That's all," Muria confirmed.
For a world as battered and desperate as this one, proving oneself as an ally by eliminating the heretic god's minions was more than enough to earn its acceptance. The world had no other choice; in its dying state, it would cling to any shred of hope, regardless of potential ulterior motives.
ROAR!
Eager for carnage, Auston unleashed a jubilant roar. As a dragon who had suppressed his destructive instincts for centuries under Muria's influence, he now finally had permission to let loose.
With a guttural snarl, Auston extended his claws and tore open the spatial rift, widening it to allow his massive body to pass through. His crimson scales gleamed like molten metal as he fully emerged, his muscular frame radiating power.
The oppressive lightning in the sky grew denser as Auston stepped into the world, arcs of electricity crackling ominously. Yet none of the bolts fell—at least, not yet.
"This world is evaluating you," Muria said, noticing Auston's wary glance at the storm above. "Prove yourself, and it'll stop."
With a satisfied growl, Auston took to the skies, his immense wings stirring up a fiery windstorm as he ascended. His powerful form twisted and turned in midair, leaving trails of blazing red light in his wake.
The Dance of the Dragon had begun.
From the ground, Auston's movements were mesmerizing, a deadly combination of power and grace. As he soared and spiraled, the air grew hotter, spontaneous flames igniting across the battlefield.
"He looks ridiculous," a voice muttered disdainfully.
Muria turned to see a slightly smaller red dragon crouched beside him—Auston's younger sister, Cynthia. Her tone dripped with mockery as she critiqued her brother's aerial display.
But before she could continue, Auston unleashed a devastating spell. Massive fireballs coalesced in the air, their fiery tails streaming behind them as they hurtled toward the ground.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions rocked the ruined city, each impact sending shockwaves through the air. Flames bloomed like flowers of destruction, their radiance painting the battlefield in shades of red and gold.
"Now that's beautiful," Muria commented, admiring the fiery spectacle.
"It's passable," Cynthia grudgingly admitted, though her tone betrayed a hint of jealousy.
"What's that, Cynthia? Did I just hear you compliment me?" Auston landed with a thud, his massive form shaking the ground. He turned to his sister with a toothy grin, ignoring the swarm of dragons pouring through the portal behind him.
"Enough," Muria said, cutting short their sibling squabble. He glanced skyward, noting the growing density of lightning bolts above.
At least 109 dragons had emerged from his demi-plane, including 16 Ancient Dragons.
"That's enough for now," Muria decided, closing the spatial rift with a casual wave of his hand. "We've reached the limit of what this world can tolerate. For now."
As the assembled dragons roared in unison, their combined might shook the heavens and earth, sending an unmistakable message to every creature in the world—both ally and foe. The Dragon Legion had arrived. And with it, the tide of battle would turn.
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