Chapter 7 - First Tribulation (2/3)

A weak roar, not my own, was the only response to Scarlet's speech. It came from behind me, making it Yellow’s. It was the roar of a wyrm clinging to life by the thinnest thread. If death were a god, Yellow would have been desperately grasping at his coattails.

With the bodies of our two brothers—one dead and one dying—behind us, we examined each other. It was obvious that Scarlet, being the larger one, was stronger than me. After witnessing how he killed Blue almost instantly, I had no doubts about his speed. Gauging the ten feet between us, I harbored no delusions as to who was at a disadvantage.

Even though my emotions were dulled to near indifference by my cold anger, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of a challenging duel. Despite my cold state, the excitement coursing through my blood, boiling at the anticipation of this imminent death match, was undeniable. It was intriguing. Was this feeling brought on by the blood I had ingested earlier or by the inevitable battle ahead?

There was no time to dwell on these thoughts as Scarlet suddenly charged at me, wings folded for maximum speed. I responded in kind, charging toward him, and my awareness shifted; in that moment, the world was reduced to just Scarlet, my surroundings, and me. Everything else faded away—mother, watching quietly from a distance with her usual indifferent expression, was ignored.

As Scarlet lunged, I swerved to my left, narrowly dodging him. I felt his proximity, but my right wing wasn’t spared; despite anticipating his straight charge, aimed to capitalize on his size, his attack left a tear. Though painful, it wouldn't impede my fight. After all, wings were off-limits in this battle, as mother had forbidden aerial combat.

Having dodged by mere inches, I turned swiftly and lunged at him. Before Scarlet could fully recover from his landing, I tackled his side and sank my teeth into his right wing. I felt the resistance of the flexible yet sturdy bones beneath his leathery hide, but my bite drew hot, powerful blood, making me feel ecstatic, almost wild. The sensation was intoxicating, but I forced myself to release him, knowing the fight wasn’t over.

Scarlet’s enraged roar signaled the damage I had inflicted; his wing joint and leathery membrane were now half-torn, resembling a quarry ravaged by a predator. He bled profusely from the wounds, and I knew this would slow him down, tipping the scales slightly in my favor—an advantage I desperately needed.

Both of us were injured in similar areas, but my wounds and bleeding were less severe. The fight had become a waiting game, and the anger in Scarlet’s red eyes showed he despised this tactic. Yet, within that fury, I glimpsed something else—was it respect, or more anger?

“Not bad,” Scarlet whispered just loud enough for me to hear, his grim smile chilling. “I expected a direct confrontation, maybe some tricks, but not this, brother.” A pause, subtle but noticeable. “Coward.”

His taunt didn’t faze me, and Scarlet knew it wouldn’t work—his attempt was half-hearted at best.

I stayed silent, carefully observing his broad-shouldered, serpent-like body for any sign of an attack. I didn’t have to wait long. With muscles rippling, he dashed toward me, baring his fangs.

Instead of meeting his charge, I stood ready to dodge at the last possible moment. When he was within six feet, he inhaled deeply, his stomach expanding. Realizing what was coming, I dove toward his left, attempting to avoid the inevitable fire breath.

But Scarlet anticipated this and adjusted smoothly. His mouth opened wide—wider than I had thought possible. Realizing I couldn’t escape in time, I dropped to the ground, closing my eyes just as three massive, chained fireballs shot from his mouth. One dipped low enough to explode near my face.

Agony shot through me as flames engulfed my head. Despite a dragon’s natural resistance to fire, this abnormal heat seared my flesh. How was this possible? I had been the first among us to breathe fire, but my flames had never come close to this intensity. Even when I tested it on my brothers, it barely singed them. It highlighted just how resistant we were to flames.

A second later, the burning subsided as my body’s fire resistance finally overcame the heat. I opened my eyes—thankfully unharmed—only to see Scarlet’s massive form hurtling toward me.

His weight crashed onto me, driving the air from my lungs. My softer underbelly was exposed beneath him, and my wings were pinned to the ground. But our wings were built to endure, and I knew they wouldn’t tear.

Scarlet, aiming to finish me, went straight for my throat, but I found his neck first with my teeth, halting his deadly strike. Wasting no time, I clawed at his mangled right wing with my left talons. Blood soaked my limbs and belly as I tore the wounds open wider, feeling the hot liquid flow over me.

Unable to withstand the pain, Scarlet heaved, lifting us both off the ground. My jaws still clamped around his neck, and my claws still dug into his wing as he shook and spun, thrashing his tail in a frenzy of pain and rage.

With a final, violent shake, my grip faltered, and I flew a short distance, landing hard on the arena floor. But I had dealt a devastating blow—I heard the sickening tear as I was thrown.

I scrambled to my feet and turned to face Scarlet. Blood poured from his body, and his right wing was completely torn off, leaving only jagged remnants hanging beneath his shoulder. Even if he won this fight, he would never fly again. He would be nothing more than a crippled ground dragon.

Scarlet let out an ear-splitting bellow, his eyes turning a fiery red. He looked possessed—though I had no frame of reference for what that would look like. His once yellow pupils shrank into tiny, glowing pinpricks, and those abnormal eyes now locked onto me with murderous intent.

Calmly, I remained where I stood, still burning with cold anger that dulled unnecessary emotions and heightened my battle focus. Scarlet’s limbs tensed, and I could swear the stone floor groaned beneath him. Whether it was from his immense power or the arena’s ancient wear, I wasn’t sure.

Then, with a speed that almost defied my sight, Scarlet lunged. His strength, now monstrous, drove him forward like a force of nature. Were it not for the fact that I could still track his movements, I might have been terrified. But I wasn’t. I was ready.