In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

The fire roared again, this time like a serpent coiling to strike. It soared into the sky and hurtled down toward the sails.

Drake didn't flinch.

Raising his hand, he activated another layer of defense—a sigil carved into the mast ignited as he cast another spell:

"Fluctus caelestis, ignem devoret!"

From the mast, a wave of blue magic surged upward—taking the form of water—and met the fire midair.

Steam exploded from the clash, boiling and hissing as the two forces collided.

The flames, having once raged so fiercely, shattered like waves crashing against a rock, scattering harmlessly into the sea.

Cheers erupted from the crew.

But Drake remained cold and composed.

'We're blocking the attacks… but there's no way through that barrier. We need the lord here, and soon.'

The island's shield pulsed stronger than ever. The monks' voices climbed higher, their chants louder than before.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a shimmer of light split the sky.

And then, the voice everyone had been waiting for rang out—calm, clear, and full of power.

"Drake!"

Michael descended from the sky, slicing through the air like a blade.

His black cloak whipped behind him like a shadow in flight. His sharp crimson eyes locked onto the flickering glow of the magic ship below—Drake's vessel, sailing steadily over the silent sea.

From a distance, it looked like an old-fashioned sailing ship, but upon closer inspection, it was anything but ordinary. The sails shimmered with a soft blue glow, ancient runes flashing between the fabric like stars in the night sky. The hull, though it resembled aged timber, pulsed faintly with inscriptions woven into the grain itself.

Drake stood in the center of the deck, eyes alight with relief and welcome as he saw Michael approach. His lips curled into a quiet smile, and in his hand, the control pendant of the ship glowed with rotating glyphs, radiating deep blue light.

Perched on Michael's shoulder, Miaomiao—the feline familiar—let out a satisfied hum, gazing upon the ship with newfound appreciation.

[You've handled the ship well,] the cat remarked, before returning to its original form with a flick of its tail.

At the same moment, Marcus soared into the sky.

Spreading his massive wings, the dragon took to the air in a thunderous arc. His scales shimmered black and red under the sun's light, gleaming like molten metal, alive with energy.

His tail lashed through the clouds, stirring up a storm of wind in his wake. And his eyes—deep gold and intense—were those of a predator, unblinking and focused.

From above, Marcus scanned the island.

Through the shimmering magical barrier, the land was clearly visible—rocky terrain and thick forests, surrounded by foaming waves that crashed relentlessly onto the jagged coastline.

Along the shore, a circular stone altar stood prominently. Monks in black robes encircled it, chanting ceaselessly. Just behind the altar stood a small temple.

The burned remains of sacrificial victims were being carried into the shrine.

Their chants reverberated even to the sky, growing stronger with every breath.

With each chanted word, the barrier thickened further.

Marcus circled above, then opened his jaws.

A torrent of flame erupted.

Bright, scorching fire cascaded downward, like molten lava pouring from the sky, slamming into the barrier with tremendous force.

The fury of it was more than just fire—it was vengeance. The rage accumulated toward Radiance and his church, now unleashed without restraint.

Dark smoke and crimson flame consumed the heavens, and the very air ignited with scorching heat.

The barrier, alive and shifting, convulsed violently as the flames crashed down upon it. Each blast echoed like thunder across the island.

Marcus beat his wings again, stirring up cyclonic winds, and poured out another wave of fire. The skies turned a shade of molten gold, and a dragon's shadow danced wildly amidst the inferno.

Below, the monks cried out in alarm.

"A dragon! A dragon is attacking the island!"

The lead priest's voice cracked under the weight of fear.

He raised a crystal staff high above his head. In response, the barrier pulsed and swelled with light, shimmering like a sentient shield.

Each time the fire struck the surface, it caused ripples of energy and magical backlash. The barrier buckled and shimmered, struggling to hold against the onslaught.

But though the priest's staff surged with power, every restoration left the barrier weaker than before.

"Priest! We can't hold much longer! We must inform the Bishop immediately!"

Another monk shouted in panic.

From behind the altar, Julius—the newest of the Silent Priests—rushed out of the shrine, breath ragged.

The senior monks were still deep in the middle of their sacrificial rites.

Julius's robe tangled around his legs as he sprinted, a scroll flapping wildly in one hand, nearly lost to the wind.

'Where did that monster come from?!'

Having spent his life secluded on the island, Julius knew little of the outside world. He had devoted his every waking moment to prayer, scriptures, and devotion to Radiance.

Even among the Silent Priests, knowledge of current world affairs was rare—and Julius, one of the newest members, was more ignorant than most.

None of them knew that Marcus was Michael's dragon.

And none knew that the hero now attacking them carried enough wrath to burn their world down.

Julius quickly assessed the situation and ran toward the bishop.

Something this urgent could not be left to lesser monks.

"A furious dragon, here for revenge? But... dragons are the most solitary creatures of all," Agrippa muttered. "Even if one of their kin was tricked and killed, they wouldn't so much as lift their heavy tails."

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. The reason didn't matter. What mattered was his duty—to protect the island. Whether the threat was human or beast, the method was the same.

With a cold expression, Agrippa turned to Julius.

"How many sacrifices are left?"

Julius, a fundamentalist to the core, did not consider heretics as human. In fact, he viewed anyone outside the priesthood of Radiance as subhuman.

"Approximately two thousand remain. Shall we offer them all?"