The dragon's harem

Chapter 913: The True Master



Far away in a distant land, an abandoned part of the human kingdom of Ruris, Selena landed in the ruins of an ancient city at the heart of a long cave. She looked around with her glowing golden eyes, even the faint glow of luminescent mushrooms made it possible for her night vision to work perfectly.

Large gashes and claw marks at least two meters across were left everywhere and dripped with faint traces of curse magic. She reached forward and sniffed them. They belonged to a Hell Bat, a titanic bat monster with extreme echolocation, powerful sound magic, an infinite thirst for blood, and a sick attitude.

As she looked around, she could find three other tracks. Two of them boasted holy magic of a strange nature, they didn't seem to belong to anything she had ever seen before. But if she was to guess, angels? But that was clearly wrong from the magic's nature. The third track belonged to her target, the smell and faint footprints unseen by the naked eye.

Something was off about this whole place; all the traces were years old yet remained visible enough to her eyes. A human wouldn't have noticed them even with detection magic, but still, it was far too strange.

Selena stopped and looked around; Hell Bats are monsters that live in the ninth layer of the abyss, they shouldn't be in the mortal world. And if one were to get out, it would be a worldwide disaster. The gashes she saw were just two meters long, but since they faded through the years, those monsters were massive and powerful.

Knowing that she better hurry, Selena kept following the tracks.

****

Back at Hati's house, Merlin was working on her spells, trying to figure out a way to defeat Arad. Unlike her, he's a creature born for magic, his body drips with it. She can't match his raw and innate talent in any way, her only hope is the accumulated experience and the plethora of tricks and spells she has.

As she waved her fingers over her crystal ball, she could sense the magic rushing from her fingers twisting and contorting. Magic seemed to refuse the mere thought of facing Arad's magic, it disintegrated upon contact. She had found that the reason for that is the sheer difference of density between her and him, if her magic was like water, his is like thick and viscous honey.

She knew she'd be facing Arad's curse form, and that only made things far more complicated than before. With Doma's curses, Arad's power had shifted in a complete direction. In a fraction of a second, he could be overwhelmingly more powerful in one way and weaker in another.

Merlin knew for certain; that her victory or loss depended on if she could capitalise on the weakness born for the inherent nature of curses. Arad had told her about the curse that he used against Kayden, the one that blinds him in exchange for doubling his speed. If he used that against her, she must have a spell prepared to take advantage of his blindness and another to reduce his speed or match it.

As she layered one spell after another, time flew by. Each time she finished, she would discover another weakness in her plan and get back to work, her work didn't seem to reach a conclusion and she had started getting tired.

She leaned back and sighed, "How long was it?" when she looked at the magical hourglass behind her, she froze in place. "What?!" The hourglass was saying that a whole year had passed by.

"Dedication, I guess this is what happens when you don't pass out of overwork." A voice came from behind her. When Merlin slowly turned back, she saw a maid with short black hair and glowing pink eyes staring at her. "I allowed you to stay alive, but I've got work to do, so stop."

Merlin wanted to move, but she couldn't. She wanted to stand and attack the strange maid, at least tie her with magic, but she couldn't. The maid simply stared at her with a passive and emotionless face.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked.

"Death." The maid replied, "It's rare that I make exceptions like this." She lifted her hand, "I have to go, but I'll tell you something before that. You're an ugly and disgusting chimera, an abominable being just like Arad. He's a mix of dragons, vampires, werewolves, and humans. He even has an elf witch inside him. You aren't that different, human, succubus, a hint of draconic and even some devilish and demonic essence."

"What do you mean?" Merlin glared at her.

"Don't pretend to be human, you aren't. Both of you are monsters so fight like monsters." Death disappeared, leaving no trace at all. The hour behind her suddenly started spinning backward like a fan, stopping the time that Merlin started her study.

Merlin could finally move, she stood with a confused face. "What..." The moment she spoke, her head started spinning and she fell on the ground, twitching. Hungry, thirsty, exhausted, and utterly tattered. That one year wasn't a dream or an illusion, she had spent it while trying to figure a way to defeat Arad and failed to come up with any.

****

Arad jumped forth and swung one of the weapons he picked up a large falchion-like greatsword. The demon blocked the slash and launched a kick at Arad's face.

Arad kicked upward, deflecting the demon's kick by kicking his calves. Right after he spun in place, picking an arming sword with his toes like an ape and swung it at the demon's neck. The demon jumped back, dodging the slash with a large smile on his face, he was enjoying this fight.

Arad who had a great sword in his right hand and an arming sword in his left foot had realised something. With one weapon, he has one chance to get the edge's vibration right with each strike. If he dual-wielded the sword, then it's doubled...n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

In one move, Arad picked more weapons. The greatsword remained in his right hand, and he picked a war axe in his left hand, a long sword in his mouth, a spear in his right foot, and the arming sword remained in his left foot.

The demon stared at Arad with a smile, for all of their fights, Arad kept pulling stuff like this. He didn't care about form, tradition, or how magic and swordsmanship work. What mattered to him in a battle was that his blade must cut the demon, and he was trying to achieve that. The demon knew that if he had asked Arad what swordplay was, he would have responded and said that he didn't care as long as his sword cut his enemy.

Arad stared at the demon, all of his weapons screeching as the ground beneath him rumbled. The demon could feel it, Arad was advancing rapidly toward comprehending how to slash. Unlike any other opponent, his learning speed and adaptability were astounding. It wasn't a surprise, to the demon it was obvious. People relearn skills faster than their first time.

As Arad kept swinging at the demon, he realized something important. In a fraction of a second, his entire view of Dalla, the woman who mastered the slap art style had changed completely. At first, she was a respectable person, someone he owes a great deal thanks to teaching him how to slap. But now, that respect had changed into admiration, he had never thought it was like this.

It wasn't Alcott, nor Kayden, not Cerilla, and not even the metallic queen. Out of all the powerful people that Arad faced, Dalla had stood out to him as a true master. His admiration, respect, and sheer astonishment exploded.

Dalla was doing with her slaps what he's now trying to do with his slashes. She had already mastered an art he could only dream of. Right now, he can mimic her slaps thanks to his draconic strength and speed, but the way she achieves them with her weak human body is

different.

His mind raced, remembering each interaction he had with her, every move, every sound, smell, and feeling. The way she moved, bowed, how she swung her palms and feet, how her slaps sounded and felt, what mastery laid behind those soft human hands.

The demon could feel it, the creepy sensation rushing out of Arad. Something was wrong, his movements had shifted and his eyes seemed to follow him wherever he went yet never look at

him.

SLAP! Arad smacked the devil in the face with the flat of the arming sword, sending him flying back. The demon screamed, feeling a pain that he had never felt in his whole life.

An open palm, it's just like an extended blade...Arad looked at his weapons and changed his stance. On top of what Kayden taught him, the way of delivering the strike would matter a lot to keep the stress on the sword at a minimum.