Savage Awakening 535. Man vs. Dragon (VI)

A/N: Bonus chapter! Worked hard to get this one out for y'all

Also, housekeeping note:

changed phrasing last chapter; ‘an axe loaded with every last shred of Destruction he could muster -> loaded heavy with Destruction.’ Zane only had a split-second to load that Axe so this phrasing is more accurate. 

//

“Smart,” said Mox. “Stop the bleeding.”

Zane wrapped up his arms and dug in his heels. It was still no easy task to halt that onslaught. He took fresh wounds every time Haxorax came at him, but at least he could hold his own now.

“How did things go so wrong, so fast? You couldn’t argue Zane was dominant,” said Jake. “Then it’s like a switch flipped.”

“There’s not much that can blunt a man’s Destruction. Not like that.”

“Could it be some kind of hidden injury? Plain fatigue?”

“Doesn’t look like it. Didn’t look much injured before. It’s almost as though…”

Mox trailed off, brow furrowing.

Zane fended off a few more flurries. By now the battlefield was littered with golden scars, scars that weren’t healing. And Haxorax refused to slow down.

Still Zane didn’t look much concerned. More curious than anything.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” muttered Mox.

“Whatever it is, he’s got to find a way back into this fight!” said Jake. “Zane’s got some monstrous regeneration of his own—these are two true Vitality monsters we’ve got here. But for every ten slashes Zane takes, only eight are healing. It’ll take a while for him to bleed out shelled up like this. But he will.”

“He’ll need to counterattack,” Mox agreed. “…Looks like he’s trying exactly that!”

Zane rolled with a dragon’s breath, letting it blast him out of the way, making some distance.

It gave him a moment to unleash, and unleash he did.

He flexed hard, blasting his Chains out wide—

Far too wide. A vague net howling with Gravity. It collapsed almost as soon as he’d thrown it. The big man frowned at it.

He took a pillar of dragonbreath to the back for his trouble.

“That… won’t cut it,” said Mox.

Down in the lower booths someone laughed heartily.

“That’s the Barbarian Sage,” said Jake. “Laughing—either he likes seeing his disciple take a hit, or he’s just figured something out.”

Zane landed smoking, winced at his back. Then he studied Haxorax thoughtfully.

They watched as he fended off another flurry of swipes, taking a hard rake across the arms. A bicep tore; he defended hard with just one arm as it mended well enough to function.

The scrying glass operator put up a split-screen. Reina still looked worried. But it wasn’t the look she’d had when he’d fought the Slayer. It was more simple concern, like she wanted him to get it done before he hurt himself too much.

“Just what’s that man thinking?” growled Mox.

***

Drexel, Grand Elder of the Scryer’s Guild, took a long breath.

He’d been honored to be invited to Patriarch Lyxandor’s own booth. Though the Patriarch had proved less talkative than he’d imagined so far… which was understandable.

This had been quite a strange fight.

In truth, Drexel was still a little shaken. That display at the start… he wasn’t totally certain what to make of it. But as Haxorax landed blow after blow, the fight was starting to make sense again.

He cleared his throat, grinned weakly.

“That was certainly a scare.”

It was as though Patriarch Azure Flame hadn’t heard him.

Lyxandor’s jaw was grinding, muscles stark against that thick neck. 

***

Cassia seemed befuddled until Thalia whispered something in her ear. You could see the moment it dawned on the Frost Saintess.

“Do we know what she said?” said Jake.

Mox shook his head. “The booths are soundproofed.” 

The Constellation King was holding his face in an ‘oh, dear,’ pose as Evan pointed and yapped.

The Nameless King’s shoulders were shaking.

“…He’s laughing,” said Mox. “The Nameless King’s laughing! What’s so damned funny?”

“It’s like they know something we don’t.” 

***

There was another furious exchange, one that left Zane with six new gashes to the chest. Serious ones stabbing close to the heart. Each took several seconds to heal, even for his regeneration. And in that time, they gushed fountains.

“C’mon, Zane!” cried Evan.

Zane just nodded to himself.

“He’s taking some pretty heavy wounds,” said Jake. “They’re not healing right, and they’re only getting bigger. He’s been effectively crippled offensively. And still he’s showing no sign of urgency! Just what is it we’re not getting?”

Zane’s chains raced out once more.

But this time they made the shape of a net. A net strung up heavy with Gravity, centered right on the First Prince.

And a storm of force screamed out from it. 

The chains trembled, and the man holding them trembled too, trying to keep them in check…

Then it broke formation; it all caved in. It managed to blast Haxorax away, but that was it.

Mox swore. “He’s trying to pull off a Chainstorm!”

“I’m not familiar.”

“That’s a legendary control technique, something the Gaoler wielded. If he gets it strong, with how much firepower he has left?” Mox frowned at the scene. “Hells—it might just be enough…”

Zane danced back, blocking shot after shot. He was bleeding but he looked rather pleased.

“I didn’t know he had it in him,” said Mox. “He’s never used it in public before.”

“That’s the big secret?” Jake seemed surprised. 

“…I get the feeling we’re still missing something.”

“Whatever the case, if he wants that chain working, he’ll have to do it soon! It’s getting pretty ugly for him…” 

By now, Zane’s back was shredded top to bottom. And he was still taking heavy fire. Black streaks crisscrossed his body like ditches down a battlefield. He was struggling to get his chains together, to set himself up for another try. 

Haxorax’s attacks had grown relentless to the point of desperation.

The First Prince of dragons only grew wilder the more he fought. And he was in pristine battle condition.

Zane’s physique, on the other hand, was so riddled with wounds it was starting to hamper his movement.

He paused, frowned down, took note of the state of his body, nodded, and kept going.

“We know Zane’s a stoic one,” said Jake, bewildered. “But this… it’s like it’s all a game!”

Mox had gone quiet.

“Partner?” Jake prompted.

They watched as Zane leaped back, blocking, blocking again, throwing a pillar of gold into the ground. Waiting for his moment.

“…No way,” said Mox at last. “No damn way.” 

“You’ve figured something out.”

“If that’s really what he’s doing,” said Mox. “If he pulls this off… clear the whole damn Rising Dragon ranking. We’re done here.”

“If you say something like that, you’ll have to clarify, partner.”

“I knew I’d seen that look before,” said Mox. “His Master used to pull stuff like this too, but never like this. Some men, especially the greats, learn best under pressure. If you want to figure out an elite Skill, there’s no better place than a fight.”

“That’s known,” said Jake. “...Hold on.”

“What higher pressure than with half the Galaxy watching, in a duel to the death against a genius Empyrean? A power tier, by the way, he’s never fought before—fighting up a gap that’s never been cleared?” 

“You can’t be serious.”

Mox nodded slowly.

“You’re telling me Zane’s using this once-in-a-generation super-duel… as training practice?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“That does explain the look on Patriarch Azure Flame’s face.”

A split screen popped up. 

“That jaw could crush diamonds right now.” 

“Lyxandor might’ve been one of the first to catch on,” said Mox. “He would know when a hunter’s playing with his prey.”

“Explains the looks on the other Hegemons’ faces too.”

The Nameless King was leaning forward, couching his mask in his gloves—it was the most invested he’d looked all fight. Thalia couldn’t get enough of it either. Brondir, Deep Earth Hall’s head, frowned a little. 

“Brondir always was a stickler for honor,” said Mox. “To be fair to him, this is one of the most disrespectful things I’ve ever seen.”

Jake chuckled. “It’s still an open question if he can pull it off. Though even fighting on near-even grounds against a creature of Haxorax’s caliber... that’s a win by itself.”

Near-even, because Zane was still getting the worse of every exchange. Just slightly—a few more cuts here and there, some more blood lost. But it was adding up.

“And if Zane can’t?” 

“Then he’ll be at critical health. Burned out, with nothing to show for it, against an angry Haxorax at damned near full health—a Haxorax that’s still got a dragonform in his back pocket, by the way… he’ll be lucky to get out of here on a stretcher. It’s a duel to submission or death. You think Zane’s likely to submit, partner?”

“I imagine he’d do it for Reina,” said Mox. “…But if it were just him, he’d rather die.”

“For a man like that, you’d have to imagine the choices are just about the same,” said Jake, eyes gleaming. “That’s a hell of a bet. Betting the whole fight for the sake of evolution. Betting it all on a single moment—betting it all, most of all, on himself! Put it that way, and it’s no wonder Zane’s taking the bull by the horns.”

***

Zane was in bad shape.

He was limping. One hamstring had been mangled so badly he could barely stay upright, and blood kept streaming down his face, getting in his eyes. His body was a mess; only his sheer muscle mass kept him going. That, and his sheer regeneration.

He was quite pleased with the amount of pressure this was putting on him.

He only needed one more try. He was sure of that.

If that one try failed… he was also pretty sure he wasn’t getting another.

He bit down and looked to set up his chance.

This whole fight felt like an exercise in weathering the storm.

To get Chainstorm Cage off, he couldn’t just be defending. He had to make a little space. But if Haxorax just kept slashing like this and blasting from a distance, there wasn’t much he could do.

He’d tried baiting Haxorax a few times. But he’d already baited the fellow once. And though Haxorax seemed a mindless beast, he still had some fighter’s sense in him, some remnant of the old Haxorax. It had been harder to get the fellow a second time, and even harder a third.

He got the feeling he ought to inflame those beastly instincts. He needed to get a dumb lunge out of the Prince.

…Though it was easier the more damage he took.

Haxorax was smelling blood. Which was fair since there was quite a lot of it streaming down Zane right now. Zane sensed the Prince was close to that finisher mode every great predator had. 

When he felt bloody and shabby-looking enough, he dropped his armor.

He took off the chains around his chest and neck right as the Prince crouched to lunge. 

Haxorax screamed and went for him. 

Gotcha. 

He was out of there. Dipping out of the way, his gravity pulling himself hard sideways as he did—and even then, he was only barely fast enough. The dragon prince lunged so hard he face-planted into Zane’s chains.

A perfect time to slap some gravity cores on the fellow, stall him for a split second. Just a split-second. But fights at this level were won or lost in that time. 

Zane kicked off hard.

He made about a mile’s worth of distance—a mile that shortened instantly as Haxorax whirled around and pounced…

But it was enough to get the shot off.

He roared and flexed. Put all his mangled back into the pull, and even wrecked as he was, his physique answered strong.

His cage exploded.

Chainstorm was an explosion. It blasted chains out dozens of miles, making a sphere—and that sphere formed in fractions of a heartbeat, shockingly fast. 

That blast worked on three things. Zane’s raw muscle gave the bulk of the explosion. Then Gravity and Magnetism Laws ran down the chains, sending them wide.

Until they were locked out at maximum extension. Chains interlocking with each other, spinning on dozens of axes around the same point, sketching the shape of a sphere.

A cage of chains that came down right on the dragon prince’s head.

Then all that Gravity and Magnetism and raw force reversed direction in an instant.

In one perfect moment, it all clicked. And Zane knew he’d got it true.

With that, he pulled.

***

“…It won’t work.” Lyxandor surprised himself with the realization. One look at those chains and he knew. Then he laughed, a harsh, hysterical sound—“This was his plan? He’s overestimated himself, the fool!”

It came as a relief. The Patriarch of True Dragons could smile again.

There was one thing Zane hadn’t accounted for. 

The ace of any True Dragon. But especially that of a Golden True Dragon… an ace that hadn’t been seen since the First Ones tread this galaxy.

Haxorax’s golden dragonform.