The Unrivaled Holder: Rise of the Dragon Monarch

I launched forward, my Magicore-infused fists crashing against Zarathorak's scales with raw force. The impact sent a shockwave through the cavern, but—He didn't even flinch.

My breathing grew heavier as I pulled back, striking again and again, my fists glowing with concentrated energy.

But he just stood there taking every single hit on purpose. No defense. No counterattacks. Just… watching.

It was only then that I realized—He wasn't even fighting me.

To him, this wasn't a battle, It was nothing.

I gritted my teeth. "That bastard—he was letting me attack him just to prove a point." I muttered.

Then, in a sudden blur of movement, his massive body tensed.

His eyes gleamed with sharp, ruthless precision.

And before I could react—His tail struck.

WHAM!

The blow hit me cleanly, faster than my body could register. I barely had time to turn my head before the sheer force of it sent me flying.

My back slammed into the ground, the impact splintering the stone beneath me.

Pain flared through my body as I coughed up blood, my vision flickering for a moment.

I gasped for air, the shock of the attack leaving my limbs weak.

"Damn it!" 

I barely saw it coming.

Through blurred vision, I looked up—And saw him.

Zarathorak's massive form loomed over me, his gaze cold, indifferent. He was staring down at me like I was an insect.

Like I wasn't even worth crushing properly. The weight of that realization settled in my chest like a boulder.

But I didn't have time for hesitation. I couldn't afford it.

Slowly, I pushed myself up, blood dripping from my lips. I clenched my fists, inhaling sharply.

If 7% wasn't enough…

Then I had no choice. I forced my body to comply, my Magicore surging once more as I channeled everything into my fists.

The energy condensed, growing thicker, heavier.

Then, through gritted teeth, I muttered—"Maximum Output: 15%."

The air cracked around me, the surge of power distorting my surroundings. My arms burned from the sheer force, my veins pulsing with raw Magicore.

This was my limit for now—any higher, and my body wouldn't handle it.

But it would have to be enough.

Zarathorak… didn't look impressed.

Instead, he smirked. "Is that it? I thought you wanted a fight?"

"Do you truly believe that will be enough to defeat me?" He added.

His crimson eyes gleamed as he chuckled. "Those guys are already on the ground. And you? Do you really think that you have it in you to defeat me?!" 

He scoffed. "You're not even a full-blooded dragon."

His wings spread slightly as he lowered his stance, his smirk widening.

"I could fight you with my eyes closed, half-blood." I didn't respond.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, I focused.

Every fiber of my being centered around the Magicore in my fists. Every thought was on control—on making sure my regeneration didn't drain my energy any further.

I exhaled, steadying my breath.

Each strike tore through the battlefield, leaving craters behind.

The force of our battle alone was enough to make the walls tremble, but—

I was being overwhelmed.

Zarathorak wasn't just stronger.

He was leagues ahead of me.

His raw strength alone sent shockwaves through my body every time our attacks met.

And worst of all—

He wasn't even fighting seriously.

And then—we moved.

Both of us lunged at the same time, the impact of our clash sending another tremor through the cavern.

Fist met claw.

Each strike tore through the battlefield, leaving craters behind.

The force of our battle alone was enough to make the walls tremble, but—I was being overwhelmed.

Zarathorak wasn't just stronger. He was leagues ahead of me.

His raw strength alone sent shockwaves through my body every time our attacks met.

And worst of all—He wasn't even fighting seriously.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to keep up, knowing full well—

"If he actually got serious…I wouldn't last long. This dragon is the real deal" I smirked slightly realizing how big my current problem is.

After that, I clenched my fists, Magicore still surging around me, refusing to back down.

I launched forward, throwing a Magicore-infused punch straight at Zarathorak's chest.

BOOM!

The impact sent a shockwave through the cavern, the force enough to crack the stone beneath our feet.

But—He didn't even budge. My breath hitched.

Then, with a slow, amused smirk, Zarathorak lifted his claw.

WHAM!

A single swipe sent me stumbling backward, barely able to regain my footing.

I gritted my teeth, lunging forward again, my fists glowing with condensed energy.

But every attack—every strike I threw, every punch I landed—Did nothing.

He absorbed it all.

Not blocking, not dodging. Just standing there, taking my attacks like they were nothing.

Then, he sighed. Like he was… bored.

"Enough." Before I could react—His tail struck again.

This time, I saw it coming. I barely twisted my body, avoiding a direct hit. But even then—The impact still sent me flying.

CRACK!

My back slammed into the cavern wall, stone shattering around me as my vision blurred from the force.

I gasped, coughing up blood as I collapsed onto the cracked ground.

My body screamed in pain, my muscles barely responding.

Zarathorak's massive figure loomed over me, his expression a mixture of amusement and complete superiority.

I tried to push myself up, my hands shaking.

But all I could do—Was kneel.

I looked up, my breath ragged, blood dripping from my mouth.

Zarathorak, his towering form shrouded in shadows, stared down at me with that same cold, unshaken gaze. I clenched my fists.

"Damn it! Even at 15%…I couldn't even make him flinch." I said while looking at him towering over me.

Zarathorak exhaled slowly, his massive wings shifting as he towered over my broken body.

The battle had lasted long enough.

And to him—it was boring. I was no challenge.

I could barely move, barely breathe. My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up, but my body refused to respond: I was too weak. Too slow. Too insignificant.

Zarathorak's gaze darkened. "Enough of this."

His massive claw rose into the air, his Magicore flaring as he prepared to finish me. I could see it coming. I knew I couldn't dodge. This was it.

But just as his attack was about to come down upon me—Something changed.

A sudden pulse erupted from deep within me. It wasn't my Magicore. It wasn't something I had ever felt before. It was something more.

The air around me distorted, warping as an unseen force surged through my body.

And then—Zarathorak froze. His massive claw, inches away from crushing me, halted mid-motion. His eyes widened in shock. The overwhelming pressure he exuded faltered.

A surge of power rippled through my entire being. My body, once battered and broken, now felt alive. This was something else. Something beyond me.

Then, the words escaped my lips. "Unison: Divine Exclusive Skill, Combat Mode."

The moment I uttered it—Fafnir and Ingi's bodies disappeared.

Not into nothingness, but into me. A massive surge of Magicore erupted from my core, expanding outward in violent waves. The sheer force of it shook the cavern, cracking the ground beneath me.

It was untamed, raw, borderline uncontrollable. Even Zarathorak, the Bloodweaver, took a step back. His crimson eyes narrowed, his wings shifting slightly.

For the first time—He felt it.

A sensation he hadn't experienced in centuries: FEAR.

The weight of an overwhelming presence pressed down on him, suffocating, undeniable.

And I—I was changing. My body twisted and reformed, no longer entirely human, but not entirely dragon either.

My face remained human, but from my head, two sharp horns protruded. A pair of crimson-colored wings spread from my back, burning with energy. A razor-sharp tail extended behind me, slicing through the air like a blade. I was something else now. Something more.

I lifted my gaze, my eyes locking onto Zarathorak's.

A simple, knowing smirk crossed my lips. "Mhm," I muttered in agreement.

Then, I spoke again, my voice calm, steady, absolute. "Let's finish this, Bloodweaver."

Zarathorak snarled. A mixture of shock, confusion, and rage flashed across his face.

This… sudden shift. This unfathomable transformation. He refused to accept it. His pride would not allow it.

His pride would not allow it. With a furious roar, he lifted his claws, blood-red energy twisting violently around them.

"Blood Manipulation: Crimson Devastation!"

The attack tore through the air, a massive wave of blood-forged destruction crashing toward me. I didn't move. The attack hit me head-on.

A violent explosion erupted upon impact, engulfing me in a crimson storm of devastation.

The ground shattered beneath us, the cavern walls trembling under the force of the spell.

For a moment—nothing. Then—I stepped forward. Unscathed.

Zarathorak's eyes widened.

I continued walking toward him, his attacks hitting me over and over, but they did nothing. He slashed at me—I blocked. He launched another spell—I absorbed it.

He lunged, claws descending with enough force to tear mountains apart—I deflected it with ease.

Zarathorak's frustration boiled over. "IMPOSSIBLE!"

He swung again, faster, more reckless, his monstrous strength tearing through the cavern with each strike. And yet—he couldn't touch me.

His claw descended once more—I caught it. For the first time, Zarathorak's assault had been stopped by me.

His expression twisted in fury. I smirked. And then—I vanished. A flicker of movement.

Before he could react—I reappeared behind him.

Magicore condensed around my fist, the energy surging to maximum output.

I exhaled sharply, cocking my arm back.

"Maximum Output."

Then—I struck.

BOOM!

The impact erupted with a force that shook the entire cavern. Zarathorak's massive body was sent flying for the first time.

His enormous form crashed against the stone wall, shattering it into rubble. A deep silence followed. Dust and debris settled.

Zarathorak crashed into the stone wall, the impact shaking the entire cavern.

For the first time—he had been knocked back.