"Ice-Fire Dragon Art: Flaming Ice Breath."
Drakion opened his mouth as a bluish-red flame burst forth, radiating an overwhelming blend of chilling frost and searing fire. He had poured every ounce of his power and strength into this singular Art.
Draconic Breath—feared across the realms—was one of the most destructive forces known to dragons. Just one breath could obliterate worlds.
The Flaming Ice Breath tore through the battlefield, unleashing havoc as it slammed into the dragons. Each one was instantly overwhelmed, subdued, and dominated by the sheer magnitude of the attack. With a single strike, Drakion had hurled them to the ground. They couldn’t move—paralyzed by the simultaneous torment of unbearable heat and soul-piercing cold.
Drakion’s gaze narrowed. This was their chance—the chance to awaken them.
He turned to the dragons beside him. "Quickly, go and wake them up," he commanded, his voice firm and urgent.
The dragons nodded and moved without hesitation. Drakion himself turned toward the Poison Sisters.
But the next moment, his instincts screamed—a threat, massive and swift, was approaching with fatal intent. If he wasn’t careful, the blow could cause catastrophic injury.
"Everyone fall back!" Drakion roared telepathically.
The dragons retreated instantly. Yet, even with their swift withdrawal, four of them were caught in the incoming strike—each slammed to the ground, gravely wounded.
Drakion’s expression darkened as he stared at the aftermath.
Swords—formed entirely from condensed Originat—were embedded deep in the ground and in the bodies of the wounded dragons. A chill ran through him.
"Wait... don’t tell me... it’s what I’m thinking..." Drakion muttered, eyes slowly lifting to the sky.
The onlookers, still awestruck by the previous display of might, were stunned again as a rain of gleaming swords descended like judgment itself. Then came two golden bolts of lightning—no, not lightning.
Drakion had already sensed them, his heart sinking. These were not mere swords or thunderbolts—they were dragons.
As they descended, the onlookers realized the truth—those radiant forces were, in fact, living beings.
"It is what I’m thinking..." Drakion sighed in dismay. He felt like roaring in frustration. Why now, of all times? Just five more minutes—he would have subdued the remaining six dragons.
Kaidros, Stryx, and Zephyr landed with thunderous impact before him. Their killing intent surged, blood-red eyes brimming with uncontrollable rage. Their presence alone sent a pulse of dread through the air.
Drakion’s heart sank further.
"It seems they landed at the center of the graveyard," Drax’s voice echoed as he appeared beside Drakion.
"But how could he be controlled?" Drax muttered grimly.
"What do you mean?" Drakion asked, already overwhelmed by the rapid shift in the battlefield.
"Every Originat has its own Intent Heart. For the sword, it’s the Sword Heart. Those who possess this heart cannot be controlled by outside forces—their soul is in sync with their law and intent," Drax explained. "The reason others were controlled is because they lacked it. Now I understand why those at the Origin Saint Realm and above are forbidden in these ruins."
He paused before continuing, "For Kaidros to fall under control... it means his heart has a flaw. A lingering regret. A perfect comprehension of the heart requires one to be free, unfettered—without chains or worries."
Drakion’s chest tightened. This was far more serious than he’d thought.
He looked at Kaidros, who had just landed in front of him in his majestic Sword Dragon form. Stryx and Zephyr loomed at his side in their formidable Thunder Dragon forms. Then Drakion sensed something—something alarming.
"Drax... is that Origin Saint Realm aura I’m feeling?" he asked.
"Yes. It is," Drax confirmed. "His cultivation has been forcefully elevated due to external interference. But make no mistake—his true realm remains Origin Ancestor. He cannot ascend without resolving his inner regrets."
Drakion stared in disbelief. Of all the times... why now? Why must Brother Misfortune strike at the peak of his chaos?
The onlookers were stunned by the arrival of Kaidros and the others.
A majestic silver dragon descended—its form awe-inspiring. At the center of its head, a single blade-like horn jutted out, and its gleaming scales resembled finely honed swords. Everything about this creature radiated precision, dominance, and regal might. Twenty meters in length with a wingspan of thirty meters, it exuded the aura of a living blade.
Flanking the silver dragon were two purple-golden dragons, six meters long with twelve-meter wingspans. Their bodies surged with thunder; lightning crackled violently across their scales, as if born from the heart of storms. They were thunder incarnate—dragons forged by lightning itself.
Within mere moments, the opposing dragons had fully recovered. No longer was it six against six. Now it was nine against six—and among the nine stood the mightiest of their kind.
Drakion roared, charging alongside his allies toward the enemy. But the clash didn’t even last a full minute before they found themselves overwhelmed.
Kaidros, wielding sword laws and boosted cultivation, turned the tide with ease. Coupled with their superior numbers, the nine swiftly began suppressing Drakion’s group.
"Ice-Fire Dragon Art: Flaming Ice Breath."
Drakion released the Flaming Ice Breath, but with a swing of Kaidros’ Sword Horn, it was destroyed. Drakion used the Ice-Fire Dragon Skills he had, but alas, they were all destroyed by Kaidros.
"You better use the Mechanical Dragon. You know it’s a legendary bloodline," Drax’s voice echoed in his mind.
Drakion’s brows furrowed, uncertainty flickering across his face. "What exactly is so special about the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline?"
"Don’t ask me. Ask the system," Drax replied, shrugging mentally.
Drakion wasted no time.
"System, what are the benefits of using the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline?"
[Due to Host’s numerous bloodlines, the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline has the ability to access and utilize other bloodlines while active.]
As soon as Drakion heard this, his heart surged with clarity. This was exactly what he needed.
"Draconic Art: Draconic Transformation!"
[Activating the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline.]
A chorus of mechanical clicks resounded through the battlefield as a dense mist surged around Drakion’s form. The onlookers tensed, held in suspense—uncertain of what monstrous evolution was now unfolding before them.
A/N: Sorry everyone, the Mechanical Dragon is a Legendary Dragon Bloodline, not a Rare Dragon Bloodline. Also, note that all dialogue made by Drakion and the dragons wasn’t heard by the onlookers.