"Careful—something underground is coming up!"
No sooner had Gauss spoken than the shaking underfoot turned violent. Cracks raced across the ground, widening visibly, as if something below were tearing free of the earth.
Albena shielded Gauss and backed him away.
KRA-THOOM!!!
With a roar the soil at the center of the fissure blew upward. A chitin-plated, insectoid head punched through. Several giant, many-legged burrowers hauled themselves out—jaws made for digging flashing.
Gauss recognized them at a glance. "Ankheg-type burrowers." Not that it mattered—most were only CR 2 at best; beyond digging, their combat bite was mediocre.
More importantly, a blast of heat surged up from the tunnel they'd dug.
BOOM!!!
Fire-aspected breath erupted like a volcanic vent. A moment later a vicious, crimson shape ripped the earth and shot skyward on a pillar of heat.
Wings spread wide, the creature hung over them, beating heavy gales into the sand—red scales glittering under the noon sun like a flying volcano.
The red drake.
In person, it was far more awe-inspiring than through a clay spider's eyes.
So this is a dragon?
At least in form, it was little different from its true-dragon kin.
Its molten-gold slit eyes locked instantly on Gauss's party—especially Gauss. Something about the "small" human's aura felt both familiar and alien—unsettling. But the shape below was clearly a two-legged human…
ROAR!!!
It gaped and thundered—a sound equal parts anger and unease. All around, kobolds boiled up from the rents in the ground, their lord returning to the surface.
Gauss and the others edged back, buying space. He'd only fought briefly earlier—barely spent any magic beyond one Magic Missile and Fly—but to finish things cleanly he'd heightened his casting and burned a chunk of mana. He was chewing crystal powder now, [Special Stomach] turning it quickly into mana.
"Careful, Sir Gauss," Albena warned—she could see the airborne drake had fixed on him.
"So that's the red-blooded drake…" Alia swallowed. Dragons were another tier entirely. This one wasn't massive—but the pressure it radiated buried most monsters at its rank. The very air felt heavier; sulfur stung the nose. Serandur flinched, breathed through it, and kept his healing on Gauss.
Gauss, beyond the first jolt, was the least fazed—despite the drake's focus.
Both sides held for their own reasons. Gauss metabolized the powder; mana surged back. The pause wouldn't last.
ROAR!
The drake broke first. The longer it stared at Gauss, the more agitation boiled in its skull—goading an already dull mind toward fury. Unease curdled into insult.
It was a dragon.
Two-legged bugs like this should crawl beneath its wings.
Wings like bloody sails snapped once; it rose higher, jaw yawning. Its thick neck flushed red; a spark flowered in its throat—
—and a lance of golden fire tore down.
Fire rained from the sky.
"Inside—now!"
Albena didn't waste words. Veins stood out on her forearm as she locked her grip on the Bulwark of Peaks. The shield and her Azure Oath plate blazed; sigils flared; a dome surged out and hardened into a thick, translucent crystalline wall around them.
RRRRAAA—
The drake's magma-breath slammed into liquid-gold shimmer. Heat and force howled over the shield; ripples hammered its skin; light flickered like a heartbeat. Albena's teeth set; her boots rooted into the earth; the wall held—an island of safety in a storm of flame.
The breath poured for a dozen seconds—then cut off. It wasn't magic; it was organ—stamina-limited.
"Haa—" the drake panted, sulfur steaming from its maw. Seeing the dome intact, its irritation sharpened.
Inside, the air had spiked in temperature—nothing more. Albena was that strong.
Outside, the world burned.
"Thanks, Albena," Gauss said.
"It's my duty, Sir Gauss." Sweat beaded her brow—she'd eaten a lot of that breath.
Gauss launched Fly and ferried the team clear of the fireline. His reserves had snapped back—[Special Stomach] did wonders in a pinch, though he couldn't abuse it.
Serandur finished his healing run; he and Alia laced Gauss with buffs. In heartbeats he was back to peak.
He tilted his head, met the drake's gaze.
"Alia, Shadow, Serandur, Albena—the kobolds below are yours," he said. The drake's eyes met his—two lines of sight almost a tangible force.
He rifled what he knew: drakes lacked dragon legacy—no sorcery, only body and breath. Claws, maw, wings, tail—every inch a weapon.
Despite the mass, their air control was deft—harry from above, dive, smash, and climb before retaliation. Red scales armored them against steel and spell alike; fire immunity neutered ordinary flames and most magic fire—Fireball would be dulled.
Their vitality, recovery, stamina, damage soak—huge. Short of lacking spells and smarts, they had no "easy" break.
Underestimate them, and you die.
Gauss himself was a "balanced build" without glaring holes—but compared to a drake, his edge was magic and a human's mind; his deficit—rank.
"Come on!"
He rose, sliding away from the others. The drake felt it—locked harder, beating toward him.
Gauss dropped to the sand. Common kobolds, sensing the aura coiling off him, fled; elite kobolds, less affected, still held back—this was the king's duel. Not chivalry—practicality. The king's fury killed friend as easily as foe; many had become post-meal snacks for less.
He didn't wait. The wand slid into its thigh-clip; power surged.
"Ironscale Bloodline!"
Heat rushed his veins. Maybe it was the drake's fear aura, maybe the fight; the bloodline boiled like never before. Hot…
A smile touched his mouth; his eyes slid to burning gold slits.
He barked a word—and held nothing back.
Wind shuddered under his robes; ghostly, deep-blue scales flared blindingly across his skin. This time the tracery didn't just glow—it grew—like living armor, spreading up past the jaw over his cheeks, weaving into an intricate, full-body scale mail of light.
An ancient, icy majesty surged from him—no less than the beast above.
Sky and earth—two auras met and tangled. Nearby kobolds froze—eyes twitching, bodies locked.
The drake felt it now—no longer a hint, but a flood. The aura it had sneered at was dragon. Its pupils pinpricked.
A human… roaring as kin?
"RRROOOOAR!"
Gauss roared first. He didn't know why the drake had dithered after its breath, but he could taste its battle-hunger—and his blood sang in answer. Something primal in him wanted this fight.
The drake flinched—and rage steamrolled fear and doubt.
Fight.
Its scales flared; its whole body seemed to catch fire; muscles surged, swelling the frame. Wings hammered; compressed air detonated under it; the mass plunged like a meteor.
It chose the most direct, most savage, strongest way written in its blood.
It would smash this "kin" on the ground like an insect.
BOOM!
Air congealed under the hurtling bulk. Gauss didn't budge.
In his burning gaze, warlight kindled.
[Brute Force] [Enhanced Leap].
His legs thickened. Sword Soul had made his body more coordinated; the skills stacked—braiding with Ironscale's state into one explosive cord.
He caught the drop's cadence. Knees bent; the blue scales at his ankles blazed—
THOOM!!!
The drake cratered the spot he'd stood on; a ring shockwave plowed the sand in furrows. Gauss was already gone—not fleeing, but cutting through—a bold, precise sidestep leap that shaved the scales of the drake's hindleg—heat blistering his skin before the blue armor repelled it.
Perfect timing.
He slid into the blind arc—rear quarter, where sight and reach faltered. The drake, realizing the miss, threw to climb—Gauss was already on it. Cold mind in a hot chest—he'd known his disadvantages: Fireball useless, raw body far shy of a true dragon's; no slog, no trade—hit fast, finish faster. He wouldn't get a second clean entry.
He sprang in the dust; scale-grip sticking, fingers like claws wedging into the gaps along its spine. He latched on.
The drake sensed him, bellowed, and rocketed up—hundreds of meters in a blink—thrashing to shake the "worm" off.
Gauss clung, a leaf in a hurricane—blue plates blazing against centrifugal force and tail-swipe shock. Wind razors sliced his cheek; heat licked his fingers through the scales—but his eyes only sharpened.
"Ghoul Form—open!"
He drew a breath, bit down, and changed.
Black hair whipped longer, bleaching to winter white. A point of energy horned from his brow—no longer pale, but a hard, dragon-bright gold.
The ghoul form's root was the far, thin blood of the labyrinth's Spider Ghoul—almost extinct in the main world. That ancient trace surged back—and met dragon blood halfway; two alien powers wove into a new, fierce current.
Crk-crk-crk!
Energy wings burst from his back, shredding the robe and flaring wide. Dragonfear thickened around him—so strong the drake bucked and writhed.
He opened bright, new eyes. Flesh, magic—everything pealed to a peak—and bled just as fast. It hurt—his base frame wasn't built to house this for long.
He licked dry lips; teeth slicked to razor points with white energy. He bent and bit—hard—on the scales.
He wrenched—tore free a bloody slab, scale and all.
ROOOOAR!!!
The drake shuddered in full flight, a howl ripping its throat. Gauss chewed. [Special Stomach], amplified by the form, ripped power from meat fast.
"That's better."
"Now—let me show you how to wield a true dragon's strength."