Chapter 379: Firm Will? Fratricide...

"Boom!"

The skeletal dragon swung its sky-obscuring hand, striking the swarm of dragons that surged toward them in a desperate attempt to block their path. With a single blow, hundreds of dragons were sent flying, crashing violently into the earth and the surrounding peaks.

The source of the death-dragon Kog'maw's magic did not stem solely from the faerie dragon Bichu. Within its frame lay a vast collection of precious mana crystals gathered by these heretical dragons—pure, energy-dense stones that released a torrent of power, sustaining a corpse-construct so immense it defied the limits of even the draconic kind.

The remaining heretical dragons moved in perfect synchronization, flanking the skeletal behemoth to clear away unreachable foes while steadily advancing toward the place where the Dragon God resided.

Countless dragons blocking their way were dispatched in a single strike; they possessed no capacity to halt these nine heretics, whose power had long since surpassed the zenith of what most dragons could achieve in a lifetime.

"Doris, have you prepared yourself to harm your own kin?"

The green dragon Goliath did not look back. As she used her massive frame to swat several charging young dragons from the firmament, she posed the question to the white dragon Doris, who was using Goliath’s body as cover to maneuver with agile grace.

"Isn't it a bit late to be saying that now? Look, we’ve already beaten so many of our kin into a bloody mess, haven't we?"

Doris’s response remained as heartless as ever, devoid of hesitation or regret. Indeed, as she noted, the heretical dragons had already downed or slain a multitude of their brethren during their advance.

It was a profound contradiction: they had come to liberate their kin on the island, yet they had already slaughtered many of them, a path diametrically opposed to their original goal.

But this was a necessary sacrifice, unavoidable. They had employed the gentlest means possible, striving to incapacitate their kin without killing them, yet in the heat of battle, who could guarantee such restraint?

At times, a flicker of hesitation could invite total annihilation. Thus, every heretical dragon who arrived here had long ago steeled their resolve during the long wait.

They had not come to be swallowed by their own kind while paralyzed by indecision. Every dragon believed that for this goal, sacrifice was inevitable—even this dull-witted white dragon understood as much.

"Good. I hope you can maintain that resolve going forward."

Goliath’s tone remained unchanged, yet the underlying implication made Doris catch a hint of something deeper.

"Goliath, what are you talking about?"

Doris asked without hesitation, but she needed no answer, for she soon realized exactly what Goliath had meant...

As the heretical dragons followed the skeletal behemoth, felling those who rushed to intercept them, several dragons—noticeably larger and older than those on the periphery—rose from the ground in the distance, near the "cocoon" formed by the Dragon God. After a brief hover, they streaked toward the heretics.

The ordinary dragons blocking the path seemed to receive a command at that very moment, instantly halting their movements and remaining suspended in the air, ceasing their suicidal charges.

"I..."

Doris, still wanting to ask, found her words caught in her throat as she saw the approaching dragons. Her eyes trembled, and her flight faltered for a heartbeat.

The dragon race was not composed solely of the exceptionally powerful heretics. The patriarchs of the various dragon clans, including the blood-kin of these heretics, were formidable entities in their own right.

These powerful dragons were not stationed on the island's perimeter with the commoners; they served as the Dragon God’s personal guard, garrisoned in the inner ring of the "Dragon God’s Kingdom."

Now, these patriarchs hovered in the air, standing in opposition to the heretical dragons and the skeletal behemoth below. For a moment, neither side spoke or struck; the atmosphere grew stagnant, a brutal clash threatening to erupt at any second. For the heretics, the true obstacles had never been the common dragons, but these titans.

"Kid, I never thought it would be so many years since we last met. Back then, you were already my equal; I suppose I am no match for you now. But if your parents knew what you were doing, I wonder what they would think?"

The Red Dragon Patriarch flapped his wings, hovering in the void. Breaking the silence, he spoke to Caesar with a smile masked by calm.

"I am grateful that my parents did not abandon me after birth like other dragons, but instead taught me until I reached adulthood. Likewise, I am certain they would not deem what I am doing now to be wrong."

Caesar spoke coolly, sparks beginning to dance at the corners of his mouth—the signal that his dragon breath was about to erupt.

"Very well, Flame King Caesar. I am disappointed in you. I see weakness in your eyes; you are no longer the same. That young red dragon with power beyond imagination—I thought you had surpassed me, but it seems you are no match for me."

The Patriarch’s tone turned cold. His scarred body, rippling with explosive, unnatural muscle, began to heat up. A scorching, dazzling glow emanated from his chest, directly over his heart.

Caesar’s standoff was but one of many. Beyond the patriarchs, the heretics faced their own living kin and even former friends.

The Blue Dragon Susumi stared at the two blue dragons moving in tandem opposite her—the Blue Dragon Patriarch and his wife, her own father and mother.

"Stop this, Susumi. Everything you do violates what our race has upheld for millennia. The King who has always sheltered us would least want to see us slaughtering one another. If you persist in attacking him, I have no choice but to discipline my wayward child in his stead."

Her father’s voice was as stern as it had been before the catastrophe. His past teachings had been the same: patient instruction, followed by a sound thrashing if she refused to listen.

Her mother remained silent, but the look in her dragon eyes was clear to Susumi: heartbreak, pity, hesitation—a flicker of words unsaid that pierced her defenses and stung her heart far more than her father’s words.

"I..."

Before the Black Dragon Pompey stood his best friend and greatest rival. In a race where status was decided by strength, dragons rarely knew their parents; their goal was singular: to become the Black Dragon Patriarch.

The black dragon before him, equally ferocious, had been Pompey’s greatest obstacle to the throne. With a win-loss record near fifty-fifty, and a former patriarch they both failed to defeat, it seemed that over the years, Pompey’s rival had become the very thing Pompey had strived to be.

"I can see you are powerful now. We’ve fought since we were hatchlings; I’ve looked forward to this rematch for a long time. I don't mind yielding the title of Patriarch to you, if only you can defeat me."

"But I never wanted to fight you in a setting like this. Remember that arena? I wanted to fight the stubborn rival named Pompey, not a traitor to the dragon race I have to kill."

"..."

Pompey remained silent, his claws clenching tight.

Goliath the green dragon looked with a smile at the young or adolescent green dragons opposite her—not yet fully grown, but already exceptionally strong. These were the children she had raised herself, for Goliath was the Green Dragon Patriarch.

"Patriarch, stop! We haven't been able to elect a new leader all these years because your reputation has never been surpassed. If you stop now, you will remain the greatest patriarch in the history of the green dragons!"

"Master Goliath, please, don't continue. I... I really don't want to fight you... I... I know we aren't your match, so please, I beg you."

Their earnest pleas, laced with tears and heartfelt sincerity—Goliath looked at the children she had raised, wondering when they had grown so much.

"I am sorry..."

Goliath whispered.

Opposite Doris the white dragon stood a dragon identical to her, only a size smaller. Her expression and movements were equally flustered, looking even more like Doris than Doris looked like herself.

"Sister, can we not fight?"

The white dragon asked in a panic.

"I can't! As long as you stand there, I have to knock you down!"

Doris’s words were filled with despair and helplessness; she truly did not want to fight her sister!

"But, Sister, you could never beat me before."

Her sister stated the painful truth.

"Nonsense! I was just letting you win back then. So many years have passed, I’m stronger now; you definitely can't beat me."

Doris faltered, then retorted hurriedly, desperate to prove her own strength.

"Then... then what if you kill me? Wuwuwu, I don't want to die yet!"

Her sister faltered as well, then began to fret in earnest.

"This... this... forget it! If you don't want to die, then get out of my way!"

Doris was stunned. What was she to do? After a complex internal struggle, a sharp pang of pain flashed through her heart, and she let out a hysterical roar, lunging toward her sister.

Violent frost energy swirled around her body. She had made her choice, and she gave her sister the only solution she could think of: move.

It was as if a starting pistol had fired. With Doris’s lunge as the catalyst, the battle erupted. And the heretical dragons, having seized the initiative, were already moving faster than their opponents.

A silver radiance swept across all the heretical dragons in an instant, and their forms materialized beside the dragons blocking their path—the perfect position to launch their assault.

Caesar seized the Red Dragon Patriarch by the head, forcing his own long-pent-up, suppressed, and volatile dragon breath directly into the beast’s maw, the sheer intensity of his sun-bright heart melting away the flesh upon his own chest.

Susumi the Blue Dragon drove two lightning-wrought spears, shaped like the Spear of Longinus, deep into the throats of two blue dragons, striking the precise, fatal vulnerability of their kin.

Pompeii the Black Dragon sank his talons into the hide of his former rival, unleashing his full might to slam the creature into the earth at a terrifying velocity, shattering two mountain peaks and scarring the ground with deep, jagged fissures.

Goliath the Green Dragon plummeted from the heavens, pinning several green dragons beneath her weight as a lethal shroud of toxins saturated the surrounding air.

...

Centuries of preparation had granted these heretical dragons far too much time to rehearse this fratricide in their minds; it was enough, truly enough, and with their resolve hardened, there would be no room for melodramatic sentimentality in this decisive battle.

Goliath’s apology was meant for Doris the White Dragon, for this dull and naive creature was the only one among them whose heart had not yet fully hardened, making her the most tormented soul in this gathering of heretics—torn and forced to decide in mere moments what the others had spent lifetimes preparing for.

Goliath had exploited Doris’s genuine hesitation to deceive the opposing dragons, granting their faction the absolute advantage of the opening strike.

If she could have helped it, Goliath would never have chosen this path; the young green dragons who called her patriarch were proof enough that she was a creature who cherished the young.

Though Doris had reached the age of a young adult, her mind remained unformed, and Goliath had always nurtured her like a child; to weaponize that innocence was a burden Goliath never wished to bear.

Yet, for the sake of their ultimate goal, all else had to be discarded, for if they could only strike down the Dragon God, there might still be a chance to set things right...