Chapter 396: Modified Dragon, Cocoon of Flesh and Blood

The great cannons of the Ishubanto roared, striking the coordinates indicated by Aeryrian; they razed the mountains, forests, and streams to the ground, piercing through dozens of meters of crust and leaving the earth fractured and collapsing, exposing the secrets hidden beneath.

The mangled remains of flesh, torn to shreds by the blast, lay charred and black. It was only due to the fleshy root systems clinging to the rock and soil that the surface had not suffered a total, chain-reaction collapse alongside the nearby hills.

A closer look revealed that the space beneath the crater carved by the Ishubanto’s main battery was already filled with flesh. This meat, not crimson but a duller hue, permeated the void, forming a structural lattice that propped up the hollowed-out earth.

"Pat-pat-pat..."

The sound of beating wings echoed from the massive breach. Dragons surged forth, though their forms had long since diverged from their original, noble shapes.

Fragments of raw flesh still clung to their incomplete wings, and the scales upon their bodies were pitted and uneven. On their heads, proliferative tissue had overgrown their eyes like a blindfold; it was impossible to tell how these monstrous creatures perceived the world around them.

"These dragons are dead. What remains is merely a hollowed-out shell, stuffed with some unknown substance, driven by a lingering, artificial impulse."

Aeryrian stood upon the deck of the hell-ship Ishubanto, watching the deformed dragons emerge. Her kin could no longer be called alive; the very flesh filling the underground void had been harvested from their own bodies to serve as the foundation for this hideous growth.

"What is there to babble about? Keep firing. Your allies from the Prime Material Plane are on their way, and I have no desire to fight alongside them. Finish off these pathetic, harmless toys."

The hell-lord commander remained indifferent. It felt no empathy for Aeryrian; demons were accustomed to slaughter, and even the loss of their own limbs was a triviality. The fact that these dragons were already dead only meant it could butcher them without violating the constraints of their contract.

"Boom!"

The Ishubanto’s muzzles poured out endless energy, launching a searing torrent of destruction toward the modified dragons, who seemed momentarily dazed by their own emergence.

"Hm?"

A soft, suspicious sound escaped the hell-lord’s projection. Though the blast tore an even larger hole in the surface and triggered a massive collapse, it failed to strike a single dragon.

As the energy reached critical mass, the dragons had flapped their deformed wings without hesitation. Magical light flickered across the misshapen limbs, and in an instant, they vanished, transforming into streaks of light.

The destructive beam tore through the sky, but the dragons had already teleported, dodging the Ishubanto’s main battery with uncanny, pre-emptive precision.

"Acute energy perception and instantaneous reaction. Your dead kin have been forged into weapons of war by that Abyssal entity."

The hell-lord’s tone lost some of its disdain. Though the dragons had shown little else, this veteran of endless infernal wars recognized the significance of their tactical prowess.

"...The numbers, and its true form has yet to appear. I must wait for it. According to the contract, you must hold the line until Melos reveals itself."

Aeryrian replied curtly, her eyes fixed on the crater. More flesh was being exposed below, and she knew exactly what that substance was—the remains of her own people.

Melos was likely forging a body for itself, and the space below was its workshop. The materials were the flesh of the Dragon Isles, and the scraps were used to churn out these abominations.

Soon, the modified dragons displayed combat prowess far beyond their original state. Melos’s understanding of the dragon race was terrifyingly profound; its modifications were genuine enhancements, even if the consciousness was destroyed and only the shell remained.

"Wooo...!"

A sharp, piercing roar erupted as a dragon unleashed its breath. Instead of a standard gout of flame, the energy solidified into a layer of crimson fire, coating the creature’s body.

It looked as if the dragon had donned a heavy, translucent suit of armor. It beat its wings, charging toward the Ishubanto at breakneck speed.

"Rumble, rumble, rumble!"

The swarm of infernal fire-bats, deployed to guard the ship, stood in its path. The dragon slammed into the cluster, triggering a chain of explosions that never ceased.

The fire-bats were shredded like brittle stone, their shattered bodies detonating in a way that perfectly neutralized the dragon’s crimson aura, leaving its resilient hide unscathed.

"Boom!"

The sheer number of fire-bats eventually sapped the dragon’s momentum, stopping it within the swarm.

It immediately acted, raising its claws and detonating the high-energy aura covering its body, clearing a massive path through the infernal swarm with the resulting shockwave.

"Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!"

Black rays erupted from the surrounding fire-bats—the work of the brain-demons and the spell-eating demons riding them.

Dense beams of negative energy converged on the dragon, covering its entire body in gray-black light that possessed both piercing power and corrosive properties.

Without a single cry, the dragon plummeted from the sky. The sheer volume of the attack had caused a qualitative change that its flesh could not withstand.

But there were more. The total population of the Dragon Isles was around ten thousand; excluding the young and the crippled, there were roughly five thousand combat-ready dragons.

Some had fallen during the heretic dragons' attempt to kill the dragon god within the shell, and many more had been slaughtered when Melos revealed its true form. Roughly two thousand remained.

Now, more and more were emerging from the breach. Their numbers surpassed a thousand, and their modified strength far exceeded their original potential. Without exception, they all turned their aggression toward the hell-ship.

"Boom! Bang, crack, whoosh...!"

The chaotic sounds of battle filled the sky. The dragons fought with reckless abandon. Their dragon-breath tore through space, covering the sky in a blinding, brilliant light.

In the gaps between the breath attacks, those armored in energy solidified their bodies into weapons, crashing into the overwhelming demon legions.

Ordinary demons were like dust before them; touched by the breath, they melted into slag; struck by the dragons' bodies, they were crushed into pulp. When explosions occurred, countless demon corpses were torn into fragments and scattered to the winds.

Like a tiger among sheep—that was the only way to describe the dragons' assault. This was no "ants biting an elephant" scenario; the gap in power was not that wide, and the number of these "elephants" was absurdly high. Before the demons could form a perimeter, their lines were torn to shreds.

Dragon-breath swept toward the hell-ship. Most was intercepted by the fire-bats and other flying demons, but some reached their destination.

"Hum...!"

A thick, translucent barrier manifested, channeling the energy of the dragon-breath away, dispersing its power, and absorbing it into the ship’s internal systems in a unique cycle.

"Boom!"

It was not the sound of the Ishubanto’s main battery, but of its side armor opening to release several thick, split beams. The continuous, sweeping fire prevented the teleporting dragons from dodging effectively.

The sheer number of dragons meant the ship only needed to aim in a general direction to blanket the area.

The dragons maneuvered in the air, refusing to yield. They circled the beams, constantly trying to close in on the Ishubanto, or intermittently releasing fireballs and magical spheres at the demon swarm, even as their own bodies were shattered and they fell from the sky.

It was a prime opportunity for the demons to strike back. On the decks of the ships, armored demon soldiers leaped into the fray, their hell-fire-enchanted weapons hacking and throwing at the dragons in the air.

The battle was cruel and bloody. Both sides fought with total disregard for their own survival. Aside from the hell-ship itself, which remained untouched, the demon forces were dying rapidly, yet they unleashed every attack they possessed before their demise.

High-powered spells from the brain-demons shredded a dragon’s wings and right claw, leaving it a bloody mess. The dragon, in its final moment, lunged into the enemy ranks, tearing the brain-demon and its rider to pieces before being consumed by a swarm of fire-bats, pulverized into dust.

A black metal sword, burning with hell-fire, pierced a dragon’s skull, incinerating its brain tissue. But the dragon’s residual instincts caused it to embrace the high-ranking demon soldier, detonating itself and turning both into ash in the sky.

This was the microcosm of the battle. One modified dragon could kill several demon soldiers or slaughter countless lesser demons. The battlefield, seemingly balanced, was slowly tipping in favor of the dragons.

The ordinary demons were simply too weak, requiring overwhelming numbers to compensate for the lack of quality. The high-ranking demon soldiers numbered barely over a hundred, and the Ishubanto, while killing multiple dragons at once, also decimated the demons caught in the crossfire.

The demons from the Hell plane were showing signs of defeat. The hell-gate was open to its limit, but new demons could not emerge fast enough to match the slaughter. The Ishubanto was becoming surrounded; if this continued, even the titan-demon war machine would be threatened.

The hell-lord’s expression darkened. Its power was not limited to this, but it did not want to expend resources that would deplete its strength in Hell.

"It has not emerged yet. These dragons are likely just a small fraction of its forces."

Aeryrian spoke coldly, using the contract to pressure the hell-lord.

"When did we start playing this game of contracts? I’m beginning to regret this. That dragon soul is precious, but not worth..."

The hell-lord’s projection grumbled, but before it could finish, a new variable appeared on the battlefield.

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

A multitude of alchemical metal golems soared across the firmament, rapidly closing in on the fray, their numbers rivaling those of the demons as the Sky-City’s mechanical legions descended upon the battlefield.

"Boom!"

In the distance, a towering metal titan crashed to the earth, its terrifying weight sending tremors through everything in its wake; the Iron King, Borgul, thrice-refined and augmented, had been deployed from the heavens to begin his relentless, crushing march toward the front.

With the arrival of the Sky-City’s forces, the tide of battle momentarily turned; the ceaseless reinforcements of demons, bolstered by the superior individual prowess of the alchemical golems, began to suppress the formidable, mutated dragons.

Yet, despite the veneer of victory, their true adversary had yet to emerge; deep beneath the fractured crust of the earth lay a cocoon swaddled in dragon flesh, pulsing and trembling as it gestated a body of absolute horror.