Chapter 550: The real fight is about to begin
“Are you sure about that, Strax?” Tiamat asked, her voice full of concern. “We don’t know how many more might come. He could be playing for time.”
Ouroboros frowned, his nails lengthening into sharp claws. “This entire city could become a dragon’s lair.”
Strax didn’t answer right away. He looked at them with eyes filled with a white and black light. His expression was calm. Cold. But deep within those pupils burned something more primitive. Something that was growing.
“Go help Scarlet. If Ignisar was trying to contain Scathach, then whoever is behind this is still at large. Go. Now.”
Tiamat hesitated. She didn’t want to leave him. But she recognized that energy. That aura. Strax was no longer just fighting. He was becoming the battlefield itself.
Ouroboros placed a hand on Tiamat’s shoulder and whispered, “He’s angry. The kind of anger that doesn’t share the stage.”
With a single nod, they both left. Their bodies became blurs of light and darkness, disappearing into a dimensional tear.
Silence returned.
Ignisar and Strax stood face to face.
The golden dragon held the rune of Uln’garash suspended in the air, its shape pulsing like a supernatural heart. But even in the face of the summoning of a forbidden force, Strax did not retreat. He did not waver. On the contrary.
He took a step forward.
And it was at that moment that something broke loose.
His aura exploded like a silent supernova. The light that emerged from his body was not natural light. It was distorted, broken, as if being torn from reality by sheer will. The cave groaned. The ceiling vibrated. Ancient stones shattered under the pressure of what was coming out of him.
Strax raised Zani.
The sword silently transformed. Black lines spread across its blade, and scarlet light sprouted from the grooves, like blood dripping from cracks in divine metal. The weapon’s voice did not scream. It whispered. And what it said… was thirst.
Strax closed his eyes for a moment.
And when he opened them…
He was gone.
An impact.
Ignisar was thrown backward by a punch straight to the center of his chest. The blow pierced his defenses, ignored the rune, ignored the flesh, the magic, the ancient scaly armor. It was a punch to kill. A punch that reverberated like a nuclear bomb compacted into a closed fist.
The city shook. The pillars supporting the underground structure shattered into pieces. Black and gold flames exploded in all directions.
Strax appeared above the dragon next.
Another punch.
Right to the back of the neck.
BOOOOOM!
Ignisar’s body was thrown like a meteor, dragging across the ground and cutting through structures as if they were wet paper. An ancient cathedral exploded on impact. The altar of the Primordial turned to ash.
Strax fell from the sky like an enraged deity, Zani in his hands, eyes ablaze, mouth restrained. He did not scream. He didn’t roar. He just… killed.
Ignisar rose from the wreckage, spitting blood.
But the time to breathe was already over.
Strax was on top of him again.
Cuts. Blows. Kicks. Every movement Strax made created craters in the ground. Every impact made the air explode in sonic waves. And his aura… ah, his aura was now a murderous storm. A massacre in the form of energy.
Ignisar tried to react. His claw sliced through the air and struck Strax in the abdomen.
Nothing.
Not even a flinch.
Strax looked at the dragon, blood dripping from his mouth, and smiled.
“It’s over.”
And the world broke.
Zani exploded with power. His blade split into three, like a trinity of destruction, spinning around Strax’s body like satellites of death. Each of these blades was a will: one to cut, one to burn, one to tear the soul.
Strax spun his body.
And the three blades collided with Ignisar.
Screams. Not of pain. But of dimensional collapse.
The dragon’s flesh split open. The world turned black and white. For a moment, reality was divided between before and after the blow.
Ignisar fell to his knees, his breath ragged, his body cracked like a collapsing continent. He raised his head.
But he saw only Strax’s shadow coming toward him, his right hand raised. It no longer held Zani. It was empty. And yet it contained the end.
Strax punched the dragon’s chest.
And the whole world stopped.
Absolute silence followed. Not even the sound of fire, lava, destruction. Nothing. Just a vacuum.
Then…
KRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!
The explosion was total. Absolute. The ground gave way. The city split in two. Thousands of tons of stone, metal, bones, and memories were destroyed in a second.
Ignisar was thrown backward, crossing mountains, crossing layers of earth, crossing worlds. His body, now covered in wounds, burned with the mark of the end.
Strax hovered in the air. His hair ablaze with black and white flames. His aura alive, pulsing with the intent to kill.
He felt no pain. He felt no compassion.
The voice whispering in his mind now roared:
“Kill. Tear apart. Consume.”
And he obeyed.
The ground beneath him disappeared as Strax moved once more. He appeared above Ignisar, Zani’s blades back in his hand.
“You spoke too much.”
With a brutal twist, he descended.
And with a single cut, he tore off one of the Primordial’s wings.
Blood. Magma. Screams.
Ignisar fell again. And this time, he didn’t get up so quickly.
Strax walked toward him. Step by step. Like death approaching.
His eyes burned. His soul roared. His heart… was a furnace of pure hatred.
And no one. NO ONE would survive in front of him.
“Now you will pay… for everything.”
From the abyss that opened in the direction where Tiamat and Ouroboros had departed, a deep, thunderous roar echoed through the underground caverns, reverberating against the ancient walls like thunder announcing a storm. A gigantic figure took shape in the midst of the gloom—an immense mass of gleaming black scales, vast wings that seemed to cover the underground sky, an ancient and monstrous creature, a force of wild nature.
It was Scathach.
Her eyes were two glowing embers, filled with uncontrolled fury, a visceral madness that set everything around her ablaze. But what caught Strax’s attention most was what she carried in her open mouth: Tiamat and Ouroboros, trapped between her fangs as if they were mere trophies, their shining forms struggling to break free, but overwhelmed by the crushing force of the black dragon.
Behind her, Scarlet flew desperately, her red energy pulsing in frantic attempts to contain the beast—spells were cast against Scathach, trying to bind her fury or at least slow her advance. But the beast seemed insane, her eyes glowing like flames that consumed not only flesh, but sanity itself.
Strax watched, his heart tightening at the intensity of the moment.
“She’s mad,” he muttered to himself, feeling the tension in the air grow like a warning.
Suddenly, amid the oppressive silence that followed, an unexpected sound broke through. Sarcastic words accompanied by slow, methodical clapping, like the applause of a cruel spectator watching a macabre spectacle.
Strax raised his head, following the sound. Above the smoking ruins, a man hovered, wrapped in a dark cloak that seemed to absorb all the light around him. His smile was cruel, a dark invitation to madness. He laughed, his cold sound cutting through the air.
“Interesting, isn’t it? You killed a clone of me and still have the audacity to question me.”
Strax frowned, his eyes narrowing.
“Who are you?” he asked, his voice firm and laden with restrained fury.
The man descended with disconcerting lightness, landing with his feet gently touching the destroyed ground. “You really don’t know? Strax, right? You have a short memory, my dear. Or perhaps the arrogance to think that the one you defeated was the real one.” He smiled, showing an expression of deep scorn. “I am the original. The true force behind the power you face.”
Strax clenched his teeth, the sound echoing in the cave like a sharp blade cutting through the silence.
“IGNISAR!!!” He roared with all his might, his voice reverberating through the depths of the underground city, causing the ground to shake and the pillars to crack.
The cave seemed to vibrate with his cry—an explosion of energy that shook the very roots of the earth, stones and dust fell from the ceilings, and the air became charged with dense electricity.
Ignisar, his body still wounded and scarred from battle, slowly raised his head, his golden gaze meeting Strax’s, filled with pain but also recognition.
Strax strode forward heavily, feeling the weight of the entire universe on his shoulders. “I’m going to kill you.”
The man in front of him let out a low, dark laugh that seemed to make the walls writhe. “You’re funny.”
Behind him, Scathach roared in uncontrolled fury, her wings beating and causing storms of dust and ash, while she held Tiamat and Ouroboros trapped in her mouth. Scarlet screamed, trying to rein in the beast, but it seemed increasingly impossible to stop that hurricane of chaos.
Strax felt his soul burn. His heart was a furnace about to explode. He held Zani tightly, who sparkled with black lines and scarlet light, ready for the final battle.
Scathach spat out Ouroboros and Tiamat, and Scarlet caught them in midair, landing next to Strax. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Scarlet was panting, “Yes, but we have problems ahead.” She said.
Ouroboros began to rise as her body burned with rage, “I’m going to kill. Yes, I’m going to kill everything…” she muttered.
Tiamat cracked her neck, “It’s been a while since I’ve taken damage… I’m nervous.”