Chapter 8 - First Tribulation (3/3)

He was now a battle-crazed creature. And if you’ve never seen a red wyrm, larger than usual for its age, rippling with muscles, with a torn right wing, and soaked in blood, then you’re lucky. Any human without a death wish would have peed themselves on the spot. So, consider yourself fortunate to have avoided such fear—kudos to your survival instincts.

As Scarlet was about to pounce, I dived to my left. Just as I thought I had successfully dodged his charge, something blurry, whip-like, slammed into my face with such force that I was knocked back a foot. Only after hitting the ground did I realize the blurry whip was his tail.

Knowing he would come for me any second, I quickly regained my balance. I wasn’t swift enough, though, as Scarlet tackled me once more, putting me in that familiar, disadvantageous position. His strength had nearly doubled, and I had no delusions about whether I could fend him off.

Again, I clamped my teeth on his throat, but this time it was only to buy a few precious seconds. I knew I couldn’t overpower him or hold him off for long. With those seconds, I dug into the large, jagged hole where his right wing had torn off. I was a bit shocked that Scarlet didn’t even flinch. My grip on his neck was weakening, so I chose a new method to free myself.

I decided to use my tail as a weapon. It was stupid that it hadn’t occurred to me before, but I blamed my human memories and sensibilities from when I reincarnated as a black wyrm. Without hesitation, I lashed my tail, flexible as it was, at Scarlet’s face, aiming for his eyes.

Maybe he sensed my move, or maybe his instincts were heightened in his crazed state. He lowered his head at the last moment, so my tail only scraped the top of his head. The spikes on my tail screeched against his hard scales, but neither of us was bothered by the sound.

Seconds passed, and my grip on his neck weakened further as he thrashed around. Sensing this, Scarlet shook his head violently, throwing me off. I landed dazed, but before I could recover, Scarlet bit down on my snout. I barely managed to lift my head, so instead of clamping on my eyes, his fangs pierced the fleshy, unprotected part of my snout.

I roared in agony as blood flowed freely from the wounds. Desperate, I lashed out with my tail again, this time striking Scarlet’s face with all my strength. The spikes on my tail tore into his face, and I heard the satisfying smack of the impact. Scarlet, though momentarily disoriented, dug his fangs deeper into my snout. Blood poured from my wounds.

I knew then that it was now or never.

As his bite tightened, I repeatedly bashed his face with my spiked tail. My breathing grew labored, and I could feel my snout being shredded, held together only by the last few intact scales. But I kept hitting him, each strike spraying blood into the air. One of his eyes became loose, and the other was smashed like a fragile egg. His face was as mangled as mine.

It seemed eternal—a vicious cycle of him biting and me bashing his face. Time dragged on, and I was sure I was going to die. I could barely breathe through my left nostril, and I could no longer feel my snout.

So, this is it, I thought. This is how I die. Stupid and undignified. But at least I’ll go down fighting, unlike my human death.

Suddenly, I felt the grip on my snout loosen. Scarlet went limp on top of me. His face was now an unrecognizable mass of wounds, bruises, and torn scales.

But it was too late for me. I could feel myself dying, the lifeblood draining away. Scarlet’s weight on top of me made it even harder to breathe. Blood dripped from his face onto mine, our faces inches apart, mixing in a pool of death. A drop of his blood fell into my mutilated mouth.

Without warning, I felt aroused. How ridiculous that this would happen with my brother’s corpse on top of me, rather than with a woman. Was I some kind of necrophiliac? And a wyrm one at that?

As these absurd thoughts crossed my mind and my consciousness began to fade, I felt a spark of strength return. My nostrils, damaged as they were, could now smell my brother’s blood. Before I even knew what I was doing, my fangs bit into Scarlet’s mangled face. Blood filled my mouth, and I swallowed greedily. Almost instantly, I felt my strength returning and my wounds healing at an astonishing rate.

Before long, I had drained more than half of his blood, and Scarlet’s weight on me lessened. I felt empowered, stronger than before the fight had even begun. Most importantly, I was going to survive.

Scarlet’s corpse was now just a husk, drained of nearly all its blood. I didn’t know how I could consume so much blood without exploding, but it seemed to fuel my healing and make me stronger. It was as if I had absorbed some of Scarlet’s strength.

Intrigued by this new ability, I pushed Scarlet’s corpse aside and approached Yellow’s body. After draining him, I did the same to Blue. With each one, my strength grew. I felt more powerful than Scarlet had been in his crazed state.

The death match was over. I stood in the middle of the arena, drenched in the blood of my brothers, surrounded by their corpses. I felt like one of those gladiators from the eastern continent’s stories—slave warriors fighting for survival. Once, I had been human, but now I had no idea where I was. Perhaps just a random forest in a random part of this world.

The enormous emerald dragon—my mother—finally acknowledged me. She lumbered toward me, her cold, calculating eyes fixed on me. If she chose to kill me, I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance.

“That was well done, though a bit lacking in certain aspects,” she said, pausing slightly before adding, “my son.” It was the first time she had ever acknowledged our relationship. She had always treated us with indifference, as though we were strangers.

“Why the death match, mother?” I asked, curiosity overcoming the horror of my surroundings. “Why this senseless killing?”

Her emerald eyes, cold and vast like the abyss, bore into mine. “Why, you ask, my son?” She grinned, baring her sword-like fangs in a feral smile that could freeze the heart of any lesser creature. “Because we are dragons.”