Draeven met it head-on, purple flames pulsing around his forearms.
Instead of dodging, he punched.
The clone's face buckled on contact—not from brute force, but as though its structure had been disrupted.
Draeven's fist passed through, and the creature collapsed like a hollow statue.
His eyes gleamed. 'It seem to attack element directly. That's why I can hit them like they're solid.'
He lifted his shovel again, coating it with the flame—and charged into the next wave.
The clones surrounded him now, claws swinging in tandem, bodies slamming from every side.
But the flame parted them like a blade through fog.
Draeven weaved through the chaos, shovel gleaming with purple flame—every strike severing limbs, collapsing torsos, breaking legs.
Another jumped—Draeven ducked low, then jammed the flat of his shovel into its gut. The flame surged from the weapon, spreading like ink in water.
The clone didn't just fall apart—it disintegrated, body crumbling into dust mid-scream.
Draeven stood among the ruins, shovel resting on his shoulder, the purple flame flickering calmly around him .
"Don't stop now," he growled, voice low and thrilled. "I'm just getting warmed up."
All the irritation he once held for his living weapon vanished—burned away by the revelation. The more he fought, the clearer it became.
'If I'm right… this can break through anything. Elemental attacks. Magic. Even the strongest spell formations—'His grin widened, eyes glinting.'—as long as I master it.'
Earth clones surged at him again—ten of them this time, rising from the muck like beast born of stone and will.
They came in a wave, limbs packed with crushing force. Draeven didn't flinch. He raised his shovel, purple flame coiling along its edge like a living aura. Then he charged.
The first clone lunged with a stone-crushing strike—Draeven met it head-on.
The shovel carved through the creature's arm like wet parchment, and in the same breath, the element inside it unraveled. The clone let out a hollow wail before turning to dust mid-motion.
Draeven twisted and slammed the blade through another's chest. FLASH. Disintegration.
Another came from behind—he spun low, dragging the edge along the ground in a wide arc, purple sparks dancing off the stone.
Three more were cleaved in half, their bodies collapsing into ash before they hit the floor.
The rest hesitated. He grinned, rushing the last four like a storm.
One tried to raise a wall—TOO SLOW.
Draeven shoulder-checked straight through it, purple flame surging around him like a second skin. The flame licked the clone's body as he passed. DISSOLVE.
The last two tried to pincer him, claws raised high. He ducked low, stomped the ground, then vaulted. Mid-air, he flipped the shovel into a reverse grip and came down with everything.
The cavern lit up with a burst of violet light. The two clones shattered into clouds of glittering dust.
When the smoke cleared, Draeven stood tall, steam rising from his skin, the shovel buried halfway into the stone beneath him.
He pulled it free with a savage tug. "Yeah…" he muttered, eyes glowing bright with madness and joy. "This is it."
Behind him, another wave of clones began forming—but this time, Draeven didn't see enemies.
He saw a bunch of testing target.
Draeven eyes glowing bright with purple flame. As he already found his flame ability, he feel it's time to finish it.
He raise his sense looking for the real one. He slammed the shovel into the ground.
Purple flame burst along the blade, seeping through the cracks, burning downward. Then he found it. The large beast. "There you are."
With a roar, Draeven launched himself into the air, shovel trailing violet sparks. The flame roared brighter than before—hungry.
He came down with a full-force strike, aiming to end it in one blow.
But the ground screamed.
The mud exploded beneath him like a living ocean. A tremor surged outward, hurling Draeven upward like a ragdoll. He twisted midair, trying to stabilize—too late.
From the hole emerged a monstrous shape.
A towering stone-flesh. Its body stretched like a titan, shaped like a dragon—but crawling on the earth, six massive heads snarling and snapping. Each was made of fused rock and glowing crystal, teeth jagged like mountain ridges.
Its back was a forest of spikes—massive, sharpened boulders—and the moment it reared, they moved.
Dozens of spikes shot out with explosive force, turning into a deadly storm of stone lances.
Still airborne, Draeven's eyes widened. "Oh shit—"
The first barrage shattered the cavern ceiling.
The next tore through air, two of them grazing Draeven's leg and shoulder, drawing sparks and blood. He twisted into a dive, crashing down onto a chunk of floating debris, barely finding his footing.
Below, the six-headed Earth dragon let out a roar that made the entire cavern quake.
Each head moved independently—one snarled, gathering mana; another bit through stone like air. The others writhed, locking eyes on Draeven from every angle.
He grinned, blood dripping from his mouth. "So this is your true form, huh?" He raised the shovel again, flame flaring with savage heat. "Good."
He stomped forward, eyes burning. "Then I won't hold back either."
The purple flame roared to life. It surged across Draeven's body, coating him from head to toe in a blazing cloak of seething violet.
His cracked skin mended, molten veins pulsing brighter beneath the surface as the heat fed him.
He roared with it, one hand raised high, the other gripping the shovel like a spear.
The flame twisted down, all of it gathering—concentrating into the weapon. The blade hissed, then howled, as the energy flooded it.
Draeven's stance shifted. "Let's see you block this."
He drew back, muscles coiling like spring steel—then threw.
The shovel flew like a comet—purple fire trailing behind it in a blazing arc. It whistled through the air with such speed the pressure carved a trench into the stone beneath it.
The Earth dragon reared, six heads roaring in unison. A wall of jagged stone erupted from the ground.