Asher landed hard and barely had a second to react before the flames engulfed him. Ice encased his body in an instant, but even within its protective shell, he felt the heat. And with each passing moment, it was only growing hotter and hotter.
Gradually, the flames turned from orange to searing blue!
The dragon had abandoned all restraint. Maddened by rage, it unleashed a torrent of flames so intense that Asher's ice began to give in.
A split second before the flames could burn through the ice and consume him, Asher rolled to the side, escaping from beneath the dragon's belly.
Staying there any longer, especially with only a broken sword, was a death sentence.
Across from him, debris stirred. A low growl rumbled through the dust as Sirius rose from the wreckage of the building, his wounds completely healed and fur bristling with renewed vigor.
The beast shook his head, staggering as if unable to walk properly—then, without warning, he burst forth with the lethal pace of a killer, lunging at the dragon.
The dragon responded instantly, spewing another torrent of flames, followed by a slap with its tail that sent Sirius crashing.
Sirius was flung backward, but he recovered mid-air, countering with his own flames, scorching the dragon's right forelimb.
Its foe's response was more fire. In terms of firepower, the dragon was superior. Its physique was also ahead of Sirius!
But it wasn't enough!
Despite the flames, Sirius went for the dragon's head, holding onto what it could with its claws and biting down on the dragon's jaws with desperation!
The dragon's pupils shook. Although enraged, it was momentarily stunned by Sirius' madness!
Asher saw this opening. With a stomp, the ground trembled and over a dozen ice spikes erupted—sharp as a thousand knives, shimmering like frozen serpents. They twisted unnaturally, striking from the three sides—back, right and left—slowly forcing their way past the dragon's scales.
This was achieved thanks to Asher relentlessly pouring his mana into producing more ice to force them through the dragon's defence!
Nearby, Euodias reformed, ice replacing its missing part. Asher then leapt back into the fight, regrowing the ice after each strike because the ice blades couldn't endure more than a single strike.
Side by side, Asher and Sirius fought with every ounce of their strength, using their abilities to keep each other alive while fighting fiercely, but the dragon was relentless and kept pushing them back.
Then, all of sudden, it flapped its wings, the shockwave throwing Asher off in the process. He cursed under his breath—he should have paid attention to the damaged wing. He could have anticipated this!
Sirius, on the other hand, dug his claws into the earth, glaring at the dragon but was obviously exhausted, evident from his heavy breaths.
The dragon's wings beat the air, sending dust and debris swirling around Asher. He shielded his eyes, his mind racing with frustration.
"I haven't been wounded since this fight began," he realized, his brow furrowed in concern.
"That's new. I'm not this weak. Euodias just isn't unleashing all I've got." He gritted his teeth, his grip on the sword tightening.
"It's like I am trying to cut through an oak tree with a kitchen knife."
Gritting his teeth, he exhaled, condensing the air around him, enveloping the entire district in a cool fog. But his efforts were futile. The dragon could see through the fog!
Another hellish torrent of fire rained down like a final judgment while Sirius fought back with his own.
Asher stared at his palm.
Would he have to resort to that?
His thoughts raced. He couldn't take chances and risk losing Sirius again—not like the last time.
With a firm resolve, he cut his palm with the broken sword, and at that moment, he felt as if he was being exposed to an entire other realm.
It was a surreal feeling.
Previously, the switch had always been instantaneous, a fleeting sensation. But now, Asher could see it—hundreds of Ashbourne lords, those who had ruled for the 826 years that House Ashbourne had stood.
At the forefront stood a figure Asher never expected to see in this lifetime.
His eyes were cold as ice, his twin swords shimmering in the ethereal darkness. Then, in the next moment, something unseen wrapped around Asher like a phantom. His body jerked, and his vision wavered—his pupils vanishing into an empty void!
It was as if he was no longer himself. Through the eyes of another, Asher found himself among the Ashbourne lords, his eyes burning white like theirs. From the first to the last, all of them were lined up behind him, their expression hardening!
A voice, faint but familiar, pierced through the ruckus caused by the dragon.
Nero's heart shook. Several meters away, just beyond the dragon, stood Asher.
But his eyes were what sent a chill through him. Asher's eyes were as white as his hair—empty, hollow, yet they seemed to carry something far worse than death.
Asher's brow furrowed. A scent filled his nostrils—something he never knew existed. This odour disgusted him.
He could smell it. Taste it.
In this state, Asher had stepped beyond the physical realm—into a space within meditation where one could see everything and anything laid bare before them.
While standing there, he could see everything: the brutal clash between Sirius and the dragon, the El soldiers trooping towards this place, and thousands still running.
Gritting his teeth, Nero hurled Ithamar through the air. The blade whistled before landing squarely in Asher's hands!
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, Asher pulled it out of the sheath. His blazing white eyes locked onto the dragon as the earth beneath his feet erupted, lifting him ten feet high, allowing him to close the distance swiftly.
"We have had enough of your troubles, dragon!"
A myriad of voices came out of Asher's throat, overlapping in a terrifying, spectral command that sank into the hearts of those who heard it.
Pumped with the rage of generations, Asher swung Ithamar skyward.
A burst of white fog engulfed a great portion of the city while a red line slashed across the sky!
A single breath later, the dragon's body split into two.
Asher collapsed to his knees at the same time the dragon's two halves fell. That strike had drained so much mana that Asher feared his mana pool had been completely drained!
His breath hitched, his heart burning. The pain made his veins pop out, yet it wasn't enough to anchor him.
Asher literally felt like slitting his throat and dying just then because he felt like he was already dead.
The pain, the lifelessness of his body, his collapsing mana. He had grown to a stage where mana was a critical aspect of his survival, much like the air he breathed.
Without it, all that awaited him was a slow, inevitable death!
His eyes were still white, so those around him felt it—the agony clawing at his soul as life was slowly slipping from his grasp.
A/N: I had to skip update because my brain needed it. Honestly. But did you guys have to punish me with low power stone?