Warlock Apprentice - Chapter 1022 - Abyssal Wind Dragon
“Does—does it know I’m here??”
Telling from how the ground was still shaking, whatever was coming was huge. In fact, the mere footsteps of the monster were slowly breaking the underground cave apart. There was debris coming off the ceiling, and the walls were cracking up.
“What to do… What to do, goddammit!”
Without mana, he had no hope of fending off even a weak monster. Although mana would not help him anyway since the monster’s aura coming from the outside suggested something even stronger than that giant snake the other day.
He just realized that this was the most unfortunate day he had since he came to the Abyss Plane. He was naturally at a disadvantage against native monsters, the prison-like terrain was not helping, no one could assist him, and he couldn’t even help himself. The situation couldn’t get any worse than this.
He forced himself to forget the looming fear and checked through every tool and trick he could use.
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The conclusion was, he had nothing that guaranteed an escape. Maybe the “door model” could help him teleport away if it proved to be a powerful spell. But right now, he didn’t have nearly enough time to finish it.
“Gravity… Maybe I’ll use my sequence of gravity to get away. That doesn’t require mana.”
The quaking had stopped. Though it only meant more trouble because the monster had probably reached the cave entrance and was deciding what to do next.
Angor could almost feel the monster’s hungry gaze directed at him. Each time he tried to move, the monster would exert its mighty aura to suppress him, forcing him to stay put.
The aura pressure grew intensified until he went down on one knee and coughed up blood. He knew the monster was toying with him. If it wanted him dead, it could have easily done it.
He was facing something that might be stronger than Sunders. His sequence of gravity would not help him now.
Crack!
A giant fallen boulder smashed into the floor, followed by a ray of faint light that shone through a tear in the ceiling.
Angor slowly looked up. He would at least see what killed him.
He saw nothing through the hole because more debris and dust was blocking the way. While breaking the ceiling, the remaining force of the monster’s attack left a small tornado outside that further wreaked havoc through the cave. Within minutes, the cave turned into a roofless crater fully exposed to the outside, while he defenselessly knelt in the middle of it.
He didn’t remain unscathed in the disaster. In order to dodge all the fallen stones and sharp wind, he had to eject his soul and drag his body around, which was his trump card.
The monster must have seen it. He had lost his last element of surprise.
The dust slowly settled, allowing Angor to see clearly again.
He didn’t really have to search for the monster because a giant claw covered in thick scales was already in his view.
Over the edge of the cave, the head of a ferocious-looking monster rose.
He once saw a painting that illustrated the demon calamity several centuries ago. The painting perfectly recreated the fearful looks on people when a gigantic troll tore through their last wall of defense and gazed at them in hunger.
The sight presented in front of Angor somewhat reminded him of the same thing. Though the monster closing in was not a hungry troll, but something way worse.
It was an Abyssal Dragon.
Angor couldn’t have mistaken such a deadly monster for anything else. The alligator-like snout, sharp scales covered in sharp spikes… He had seen these features that described the legendary monster from a book before coming to the Abyss. Using more words than necessary, the book claimed that nobody should ever attempt to confront such a monster under any circumstances.
Grand Demons could still be bested when the time favored people. But an Abyssal Dragon was invincible, invulnerable, and insuperable by any known means possible.
Judging from the visible wind elements that appeared as small tornadoes around the dragon’s form, this one was probably an Abyssal Wind Dragon.
When resting yesterday, Sunders mentioned a rumor about the Windsay Valley. This spot got its name due to the overactive wind elements everywhere. If anyone would listen carefully, they would hear endless whispers of the wind as if a wind-commanding god were speaking.
“Such rich elements but no naturally-born monsters,” Sunders commented, in a joking manner. “Maybe a superior monster was already here, who took all the elements to itself. We just don’t know it.”
Sunders would have never known that he was speaking the truth then. There was more than a “superior monster”. The Abyssal Wind Dragon could easily roam through several levels in the Abyss without meeting any resistance. It was the king of the monsters.
Angor found himself out of hope. There was no way out. No options at all.
A teenage Abyssal Dragon could easily keep a truth-finder wizard bothered for a while. As for an adult one, it should be at least a level-3 truth-finder or likely a legendary already.
No matter which level it was, Angor was pretty much sure he was dead today.
The creature was currently staring at him with a pair of crimson eyes painted with complete malevolence. Though Angor never intended to reason with the monster anyway. He already discarded “survival” from his mental checklist. And when he accepted his inescapable doom, he felt something else growing in his mind.
It was despair-driven madness.
Just like when his life was threatened during the Twilight Auction, he thought about pushing the button of destruction and gamble for a chance. Perhaps bringing more nightmare monsters into the mess could miraculously help him somewhat. He didn’t care if the new disaster would further disturb the already chaotic situation in the Abyss. And if he still had to die, it was fine.
However, as soon as he reached for the “strange scar” on his soul, the dragon spread its large wings and unleashed a flurry of wind blades at him. Maybe the creature didn’t mean to use a deadly attack at all. But Angor could feel that those blades were enough to tear him apart.
When death was near, he felt calm all of a sudden. He had entered a serene state of mind that allowed him to quietly enjoy the flashbacks of his life. He was free to watch his past experience unfold again, before embracing the last moment.
Death didn’t come.
When he looked in front of him with an unruffled look, he saw the wind blades hovering in the air instead of coming for his life. Time was moving as it should be. There was no miracle that saved him. It was the dragon who halted the attack for some reason.
Confused, Angor looked up again and recognized the same, sharp malice from the dragon’s eyes. Though he also noticed a different kind of emotion, which was bewilderment.
The creature opened its maw to speak. But instead of hearing its voice, Angor felt a spiritual connection forcefully entering his head.
“… Why dost thou carry its scent?”
Following the distant and dominant sound, Angor felt his consciousness muddled as something attempted to reveal his memories.
But soon, a sudden rush of sharp pain behind his back snapped him out.
“Such… extraordinary power.” The voice echoed again in his head.
Angor sensed a strong force of the odorous wind pushing against his face. He saw the giant dragon head moving closer.
He was captured by a gentle breeze, which slowly combed over his body, before it picked up Toby from his pocket.
