Its thick arms and claws carved deep grooves into the ground, while its heavy tail swayed behind it, splitting rock with ease. Its enormous jaws opened slightly, sharp fangs glinting, a clear display of violence. Vertical pupils fixed on her like she was an ant, and the pressure crushed her body and soul, even freezing the magic inside her.
A dragon. A black dragon.
"Ah… ah…" Feltz was completely stunned. Her usual combat practice was little more than hitting moving targets, and her academy-style duels felt more like academic discussions than fights. Real monster combat amounted to little more than killing wild chickens.
Why did her first real outing end with a dragon? Under this pressure, she could not even form a spell. She did not notice at first that the black dragon had no wings.
Wait, opponent? Was she out of her mind to even think that? The dragon opened its mouth slightly and let out a low, angry growl that shook her back to awareness. It did not speak, but Feltz felt she understood its meaning.
Dragons were highly intelligent and capable of speech. At this moment, it clearly did not care to talk to a human like her, and was waiting to see if she knew her place. Feltz slowly lowered the scroll in her hand as a sign of submission.
She had heard that dragons liked hoarding valuables. She packed her bag, her mentor's precious magic tools, and anything else of value into the academy-issued spatial storage ring. Then she bowed deeply and placed it all in front of her, not daring to look up.
"Mm…" The black dragon lowered its massive head and stared at the tiny ring in her hands, seeming slightly interested. Feltz felt she had gambled correctly.
"Roar…" It opened its mouth and let out another low sound, clearly telling her to leave. "Thank you, thank you for sparing my life, great black dragon. I am leaving right now!" Feltz grabbed her unconscious mentor, picked up the Wind Walk scroll, and activated it.
A light breeze wrapped around them, lifting them as a small whirlwind formed, and they shot away in an instant. She never saw the black dragon behind them covering its mouth with both hands, eyes wide in a stunned expression.
Belial was completely confused. After killing the Earth Dragon, he had not even taken a bite yet when an old man suddenly appeared, flying in the air in a mage robe and holding a crystal ball. The man was giving off a clear aura of magic, the classic look of a bearded mage from the Otherworld.
The other side seemed to be talking to him. Unfortunately, what he worried about did happen. He could not understand a single word, and it was obvious that Otherworld did not follow the rule that everyone in the universe spoke the same language.
The system on his body also did not kindly provide any translation. The old man rattled on for a while, but not one syllable made sense to him. Still, seeing a human for the first time made him a little excited.
Belial raised a claw, planning to greet him and move closer. At that moment, the old man suddenly retreated at high speed. Magic burst out from his body as he chanted, red light flaring, and several brilliant fire-red magic circles formed in the air from rings and geometric shapes.
Magic. Belial's eyes lit up with interest. But then he felt something was off about the posture in front of him.
"He is not planning to attack me, right?"
Sure enough, the other side showed no restraint. Before he could even think of fighting back, countless blazing red chains shot out from the magic circles, scorching hot as they wrapped around him from all directions.
He was bound in an instant, and he was not about to accept that. With a simple burst of strength, he broke free of the chains, then grabbed and tore apart the magic circles in midair. He let out a roar as a warning.
Hey, I do not want to fight. Can we not talk this out?
Clearly, the language problem went both ways. He could not understand the other side, and the other side could not understand him either.
As expected, the old man kept attacking without pause. Even more complex magic circles lit up behind him, layered and dense, and fireballs, flame lances, pillars of fire, and beams of light all came crashing down together.
The rate of fire was extremely fast, leaving no space to dodge. Luckily, both his scales and flesh had strong resistance to heat, and the shockwaves from the explosions could not penetrate his muscles to damage his organs. Even so, while it did not hurt him, it did leave him covered in ash and smoke.
Belial was angry now. Sometimes talking nicely did not work, and he was no coward. He pushed off the ground and charged forward, swinging a slap at the other side.
Of course, in his mind this attack was meant to be dodged. He planned to trade a few moves and then stop, at least showing his intention to communicate. To be honest, he did not really blame the other side, since apart from his attitude, nothing about his appearance looked friendly.
He had no intention of killing a human right now. But when he saw that the other side did not dodge at all, he froze.
Wait, you really dare to take it head-on? With this slap, even a mountain peak would get blasted away.
This is bad. I cannot stop it now.
Lord Xion, this shameless mentor, chased the Earth Dragon all the way to the river after dumping his unlucky student. As a gold-ranked archmage, he specialized in fire and earth, both at a very high level, and his strength was beyond question. By all logic, he should have been welcome anywhere he went.
For example, he could easily find an academy, take a nominal position as a professor, scrape together a few things from his own reserves, and hold lectures for both fame and profit. So why would a great mage who should have been relaxing in a comfortable room with afternoon tea come personally to such a desolate place?
The reason was a research project related to earth magic. Clearly, whether in Otherworld or elsewhere, research always burned money. Magic research in Otherworld burned especially fast.
Buying large amounts of magical materials and renting ritual sites had already cost him plenty. Borrowing rare documents cost even more, and knowledge monopolies were perfectly normal in magic. He could pay for it, and he did grit his teeth and do so.
But then one key material stalled his project. He urgently needed a magic-rich organ from an earth-type monster, and the level could not be low, preferably a dragon species. By then, his funds were almost gone.
That was why he accepted a commission from a local lord who seemed foolishly rich, surveying for high-grade magic ore veins that likely did not exist. He did not plan to do it himself anyway, so he dumped it on his student.
Then he found a pleasant surprise midway. "A high-quality drake, an Earth Dragon heart. There is one right here, that saves me a lot of trouble." He followed the magic traces left from his earlier fight with that Earth Dragon.
As a gold-ranked mage, letting what was at most a silver-level drake escape earlier was already humiliating. This time, he would not fail. This Earth Dragon was exceptional even among its kind, with a high proportion of dragon bloodline and unusually strong magic.
After taking the heart he needed, the remaining materials could also be sold for a good price. While calculating this in his mind, he flew on and soon saw the drake he wanted lying in a pit, coughing blood. Beside it stood a black dragon radiating oppressive pressure.
What was that? He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
"Dragon!"
He immediately flew backward in shock. How could an adult black dragon appear in this godforsaken place?
Once a dragon reached adulthood, even just eating and sleeping was enough to gain terrifying combat power. They could fight, endure, and excel in every aspect, with long lifespans and immense strength, making them a top-tier race.
Looking again, that savage appearance, sharp gaze, and dreadful dragon pressure made it clear this was a superior specimen even among dragons. It was also a black dragon, infamous for strong magic resistance. Black dragons were highly resistant to various forms of energy, including magic, and could even absorb it.
Their bodies were the strongest, focused on close combat. Magic of the same level was hard to use to break their defenses, barriers could be torn apart by hand, and even curses could be bitten apart. For a caster like him, before reaching a certain level, they were a nightmare.
With proper preparation, he was confident he could clash with an adult dragon. But this was too close. Against an adult black dragon, he could not open up any distance at all.
In his shock, he did not immediately notice that the black dragon had no wings. The key sign of a true dragon was dragon pressure, a talent awakened along with inherited memories. Drakes and mindless dragon beasts did not possess this, as it was the manifestation of a true dragon soul.