Trinity of Magic

Book 4: Chapter 17: Blood Dragon

The light was blinding as Zeke stepped into the open-air arena. He blinked a couple of times to adjust his eyes. Slowly, everything came into focus. From the other side, he could make out the silhouette of his opponent.

Ironclad was a mountain of a man. Also, Zeke could immediately tell how he had come up with his moniker. His entire body was fully encased in plate armor, without revealing even a speck of skin. Looking at him, one couldn’t even tell what species the man was. But there was no way he was fully human as he towered over Zeke by at least two feet. He had to have some monster blood in him.

The moment Ironclad stepped into the arena, he raised his weapon and let out a massive bellow, exciting the crowd. In his right hand, he wielded a thick cudgel with spikes protruding from its tip. In his other hand, he held a rectangular tower shield.

Zeke observed his opponent. With his weighty armor and massive shield, it was clear that Ironclad focused heavily on defense. Ripper had been right to warn Zeke. With his restricted spell repertoire, he didn’t see any way for him to win this fight — if he had been alone, that was.

He turned to the Dragon hovering beside him. “Think you can take him?”

The Dragon eyed their opponent for only the briefest of moments, the contempt clear in its gaze. It then glanced at Zeke with a nasty side-eye. “This flea? I can crush him with a single swipe of my claws.”

Zeke smirked. This was precisely what he had wanted to hear. “Very well, I trust you. It’s your first fight after such a long time, and I won’t restrict you in any way. You can do whatever you want.”

The Dragon’s gaze turned predatory upon hearing these words. Through their connection, Zeke could feel that the Dragon was pleased by his consideration, but the voice he heard in his head was still as arrogant as ever. “I will naturally do as I please. You wouldn’t be able to stop me anyway.”

Zeke didn’t reply. For one, he knew that the Dragon was saying this because of its pride, not because it wanted to go against Zeke. Also, it was right. Now that it had been summoned, there was nothing Zeke could do to control it. Unlike with a regular summoning, the Dragon was not forced to follow Zeke’s orders. This was how he had designed the spell, after all. But even if he had put such restrictions in place, he highly doubted that they would be able to bind the Dragon.

Furthermore, Zeke had no intention of testing that theory. Their relationship wasn’t that of a master and servant but that of two equal partners. Instead, he merely nodded and gestured for the Dragon to go ahead.

By now, their opponent was done showing off to the crowd. His whole attention was now focused on Zeke and the creature flying next to him. Ironclad clearly felt a certain amount of caution. He raised his shield protectively and approached with careful steps.

Zeke watched this scene impassively. Unlike his opponent, he appeared relaxed. He had even crossed his arms over his chest. It was as if he was out for a stroll instead of a life-or-death fight. His carefree behavior enraged his opponent as Ironclad halted his steps to glare at him.

After a moment, he called out. “Have you made peace with death, boy?” His voice was low and husky. It was the kind of voice that could make a crying child shut up.

Zeke smirked. Their opponent was wary of them. Why else would he talk instead of attacking directly? But this was also a good chance for Zeke to put on a show. When had he ever been afraid to trade verbal blows? As a Mind Mage, a battle of wits was right up his alley.

“How did you know?” Zeke asked, his face taking on a surprised expression. “You are right. Death and I are on good terms. I even promised to deliver him a Soul today.”

“What’s this nonsense?”

Ironclad didn’t immediately follow Zeke’s meaning. When he heard the spectators laugh, however, he understood that the little boy was making fun of him.

His blood boiled. “Bastard!”

Throwing caution to the wind, he charged. With long, lumbering steps, he closed the distance to his opponent in an instant. However, even when he raised his cudgel to strike, the boy hadn’t moved. A chill went down Ironclad’s spine as his eyes locked with that of the arrogant kid in front of him. Where did this sense of overwhelming danger come from?

Ironclad pushed the feeling down forcefully and continued his attack. Surely, his instincts were being tricked. Yes, this had to be a trick. But before his weapon could meet flesh, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was the sight of a small creature rushing toward him.

Ironclad leisurely raised his shield. He didn’t have the time to deal with the reptile right now. He wanted to end this fight as soon as possible. But in the next moment, he felt an unexpected impact to his entire left side. His vision flickered out.

He only lost consciousness for the briefest of moments, but this one moment was enough to change everything.

Ironclad felt himself fly backward at a breakneck speed. He impacted the floor once, twice, then three times. His body skipped across the floor like a flat stone across water, only to be stopped by the arena's wall. The heavy impact made him momentarily black out again.

What the fuck was going on??

Ironclad had taken a hit from an ogre once, but that had barely felt like a tickle compared to this. In his shock, he didn’t feel any pain, but he struggled to understand what had just happened. He gazed down at his shield, but it wasn’t there. His gaze searched the left side of his body, but for a long moment, he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

Then, slowly, he raised his gaze toward his opponent. There, he found the tiny creature occupying the spot he had been in earlier. His eyes trembled as he struggled to take in the sight. From the beast’s maw hung his severed arm, the shield still tightly clutched in his hand.

As he watched, the reptile swallowed it whole, armor included. Under the force of its bite, the metal bent like stalks of wheat. What kind of creature was that? How could it be this strong? He had fought summoners before, and none had been like this. This being wasn’t just strong for True Mage level — It was on a completely different playing field.

Never had Ironclad felt this powerless in the arena. Not even when fighting contestants of the third ring.

***

Zeke watched in awe as the Dragon sent the towering figure of Ironclad flying. He had to use all his self-control to keep his outward appearance calm. However, on the inside, he was anything but.

What. The. Fuck?!

When he had created the spell, he hadn’t had any idea it would be able to unleash such power. And this was when the Dragon was only the size of a dog. How strong would it be if it stood at its original height?

Just thinking about it made Zeke shiver.

He had been certain the Dragon was exaggerating when he claimed to be able to win this fight with a single swipe of his claw, but that didn’t seem to have been the case. Just looking at the pathetic figure of Ironclad lying on the other side of the arena was proof enough of the Dragon’s might.

How strong were the ancient races? Zeke did not doubt that humans wouldn’t be the dominant species if there were more of them around today. This wasn’t a level of power a human Mage could match. What had happened to drive those mighty beings to extinction? However, now wasn’t the time to consider all that. He was still in the arena, and it was time to perform.

With deliberate slowness, Zeke uncrossed his arms and put them on his hips, like a father who was disappointed with the performance of his child. He looked around, acting as if he was searching for something. After a moment, he hung his head and sighed in dejection.

“Is that all?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it still could be heard clearly in the deathly quiet of the arena. “Is this the best the mighty Firebrand school has to offer?” With raised eyebrows, Zeke looked at his opponent, the disappointment evident in his tone.

Ironclad didn’t respond verbally. However, the tall warrior slowly climbed back to his feet. With a mighty bellow, he readied himself for one last charge. The man had to know the futility of his effort, but Zeke still commended his courage. He was fearless, even in the face of death. It truly was a shame to kill such a brave man for sport. But Zeke didn’t have the luxury of leniency at the moment.

As a newcomer, this first fight would shape his image in the eyes of the crowd. He didn’t want to be seen as a pushover. It would only create a weakness to be exploited later. With another sigh, Zeke began to walk back to the entrance he had emerged from, completely ignoring his opponent’s desperate charge.

Of course, even with his back turned to his opponent, Zeke still kept his focus on his opponent. With his [Perfect Spatial Awareness], he had a complete grasp of the man’s movement. If the Dragon didn’t act, Zeke would still be able to dodge in time.

But there was no need.

The Dragon had been circling up above. But at this time, it made its move. It shifted its flight path into a dive akin to a falcon who had spotted prey. The moment just before Ironclad came into striking range, the Dragon reached him. It had not slowed down as it collided with the armored chest of its opponent at full force — to devastating effect.

Instead of a scream, all that could be heard was the screeching of metal. Zeke’s mouth twitched at the noise.

Ironclad’s entire body had folded in on itself, armor and all. The once proud warrior had been reduced to a twisted sculpture of metal and flesh. It was a gruesome sight, and Zeke quickly shifted his focus; he had no intention of seeing more. He continued his casual stroll without turning his head. He was acting as if he had no interest in whatever had happened behind him.

Through all of this, his face didn’t show the slightest emotion. However, inwardly, he was feeling very uncomfortable. Zeke hadn’t killed many people in his life and wasn’t used to the feeling at all. Luckily, the man hadn’t suffered much. He was dead the moment the attack connected.

Instead of dwelling on his discomfort, Zeke tried to distract himself with the next part of his plan. There was still one last step left in his performance. Without pausing his stride, Zeke raised his right arm above his head. In the next moment, he could feel a weight added to his arm. The Dragon had skillfully landed.

Despite the sharpness of its claws, Zeke didn’t feel any discomfort as the Dragon perched atop his hand. He was in awe at this level of control. The same talons that had just raked armor and flesh were now gently holding onto his unprotected hand.

“Are you ready, whelp?” he heard the Dragon’s voice inside his head.

Zeke nodded, and in the next moment, his hand was cut open. The movement was so precise and swift that he didn’t even feel the pain. This had to be the sharpness of a Dragon’s claw. It wasn’t the time to marvel at that, however. Zeke focused on his core and cast the spell he had prepared for this moment.

[Blood Retrival]

The moment the spell was complete, the Dragon began to change. As if tired of being a living creature, the blood returned to its original state. Like a candle, the summon was melting layer by layer. The scales dissolved first, quickly followed by the rest of its body. Soon, the entire figure had disappeared, but not a drop of blood hit the floor. Through the cut on his hand, Zeke was reintegrating it back into his body.

After the process was complete, he lowered his hand and smiled. This concluded the last step of his plan. By showing this sight to the crowd, nobody could doubt that the Dragon was really his summon, which was important. After all, because of the nature of his spell, he couldn’t summon it in the arena. It just took too long.

The iron gate opened at his approach. The two guards pushing on either side were avoiding his gaze. Zeke snorted as he passed them. He still remembered the disdainful way they had previously looked at him. They must have been sure he was as good as dead.

After entering the tunnel, his gaze fell on the figures blocking his path. One was that of a young woman, and the other was that of an old man. They were Ripper and Rohan. However, at this moment, their expressions were the same — shock, disbelief, excitement, and a hint of fear.

Zeke stopped in front of the two and smirked. “How was that for a first fight?”

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