“You… you’re…” Seleratus’s voice was hoarse, his throat burning as if torn apart. Yet, what surged within him was not disappointment or frustration, but an indescribable… humiliation! He, a reborn dragon with a system at his side, had been so easily wounded by his own younger brother. It was a blatant trampling of his dignity!

  He wanted to explain, to justify, to tell Agnus that he was merely… merely thinking of how to avoid this pointless fight. But before his words could escape his lips, they were drowned out by Agnus’s increasingly ferocious attacks. Each swipe of his brother’s claws tore through the air with a sharp whistle, powerful and deadly.

  “Distracted while fighting me? Are you ignoring me?!” Agnus roared, his voice filled with the fury of being slighted.

  Inside the volcanic cavern, molten lava churned. Agnus noticed a hint of hesitation in Seleratus’s defense, and his anger flared even hotter. With a deafening roar, his tail lashed out like a burning whip, slicing through the air with a piercing screech as it struck Seleratus’s back!

  Caught off guard by the sudden blow, Seleratus’s massive body shuddered violently, nearly losing balance. But he quickly steadied himself.

  “Seleratus, how long can you last? Distracting yourself in front of me is the greatest insult!” Agnus bellowed again, his voice brimming with arrogance and disdain. His sharp claws gleamed with a cold light that sent shivers down Seleratus’s spine.

  Seleratus knew all too well that in terms of combat experience, he was no match for Agnus. Days spent tilling fields and exploring had left his fighting skills rusty. Agnus’s ferocity and decisiveness filled him with a deep sense of helplessness.

  With a roar, Seleratus folded his wings and twisted his body, narrowly avoiding Agnus’s deadly claws. He turned to block the storm of relentless attacks. Every swipe, every block, was accompanied by a pained growl. His blood felt like it was boiling—he lacked the experience to quickly overwhelm Agnus and claim victory.

  Give up. Give up the fight. Give up this painful struggle… The thought of surrender crept into his mind like a worm.

  But Agnus only grew fiercer, his attacks more savage, as if he sought to force Seleratus into submission with his merciless claws and fangs, to make him understand once and for all who the true alpha was in this volcanic cavern.

  The relentless exchange of blows drained Seleratus’s strength at an alarming rate. Blood dripped from his wounds, sizzling as it hit the scorching rocks. Agnus, however, was like an unstoppable war machine, pressing his advantage with wave after wave of attacks. His furious roars echoed through the cavern, as if he truly intended to tear Seleratus apart, to erase him from existence.

  Just as Agnus raised his claw for another devastating strike, Seleratus twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the attack. In an instant, he surged forward with astonishing speed, his sharp claws slashing toward Agnus’s exposed flank. The strike tore through one of the toughest scales on Agnus’s body.

  The blow caught Agnus off guard, and a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by renewed rage. He let out another earth-shaking roar, his body erupting with wild energy once more.

  The battle between the two brothers reached its peak: Seleratus, inexperienced, fumbled to find the perfect moments to defend and counter, while Agnus, agile and relentless, launched one ferocious attack after another. Their claws and tails clashed in an unending storm.

  The prolonged and intense fight filled the cavern with the sounds of collisions, tearing flesh, and roars. Seleratus’s blood quickly coagulated in the heat, staining the surrounding rocks. Agnus’s relentless assault, though fierce, was slowly draining his strength. Both young dragons were exhausted, their scales cracked and bodies riddled with wounds. In their eyes burned both the desire for victory and the fear of their limits.

  Then, Seleratus felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if a cold force had pierced his burning body. He realized that, though young, he was nearing his limit. In that critical moment, he clenched his teeth, mustering the last of his strength for a devastating counterattack. He spun around, his body a blur as he slashed across Agnus’s side, then swung his tail with all his might, striking Agnus across the face. The blow was thunderous, sending Agnus stumbling back with a roar that now carried a hint of fear.

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  Though pushed back, Agnus quickly regained his footing and launched another barrage of attacks. But now, Seleratus was no longer just an inexperienced young dragon. Pain and defeat had taught him to use his body and his opponent’s momentum to his advantage. With his battered claws, he precisely targeted every opening Agnus left, slowly turning the tide of the battle. Blood, sparks, the searing heat of lava, and the roars of the two brothers intertwined, turning the fight into a life-or-death frenzy.

  After more than ten minutes of intense combat, the flames in the cavern seemed to burn brighter from the dragons’ clash. The air was thick with the smell of blood and sulfur. Both were battered and exhausted. Seleratus’s scales were riddled with cracks, blood flowing from his wounds, while Agnus’s fierce eyes now flickered with fatigue. The two dragons faced each other in the fiery battlefield, their fighting spirits undiminished.

  On the battlefield, time seemed to freeze, leaving only the heavy breathing of the two young dragons and the suffocating scent of blood in the air. After the fierce battle, both Seleratus and Agnus, covered in wounds, were utterly spent. The dim twilight enveloped the ravaged land, adding to the sense of desolation.

  Seleratus was in particularly bad shape. His dark red scales were stained crimson with blood, many of them shattered, revealing charred flesh beneath. The energy stored within him was nearly depleted. Finally, he could no longer hold on, and his massive body collapsed to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust.

  With great effort, he lifted his head to look at Agnus, who was also swaying unsteadily nearby. A mix of emotions surged within him—bitterness, helplessness, and despair. He had thought that with the system’s power, even if he couldn’t win quickly, he could at least hold his own against Agnus. But the harsh reality was like a bucket of icy water, dousing his illusions.

  The battle ended in suffocating silence, the scales of victory and defeat seemingly out of balance. Seleratus knew, even if he didn’t want to admit it, that Agnus’s strength far surpassed his own. The natural combat prowess of a red dragon, combined with years of accumulated experience, had forged Agnus into a force far beyond his peers. This was not a gap that the system’s assistance could easily bridge.

  Agnus, still burning with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze with unyielding fire, clenched his teeth and let out a low growl, like a wounded beast filled with resentment and anger. “Not enough… still not enough!” he rasped, his voice hoarse and stubborn, as if he wanted to roar out all his frustration. With that, he struggled to lift his heavy claw, its charred tip scraping against the ground with a piercing sound, like a wounded lion still trying to assert its dominance even in exhaustion.

  Seleratus looked at his brother’s fierce demeanor and shook his head wearily, a bitter smile playing on his lips. He glanced around at the scorched earth, littered with the scars and bloodstains of their battle, a grim testament to their struggle.

  “Yes… yes,” he murmured, his voice weak but tinged with resignation. “You… you are stronger than me now… I admit it…” His voice trailed off, almost inaudible, filled with both acknowledgment of Agnus’s strength and deep-seated frustration and regret.

  He knew better than anyone that while the system had granted him abundant energy, it couldn’t make up for his lack of combat experience. In such a high-stakes, life-and-death struggle, his inexperience was magnified, leaving him at a disadvantage at every turn. Agnus, on the other hand, was different—his red dragon bloodline made him a natural fighter, his instincts and skills far superior.

  This battle was less a contest and more a brutal lesson. Seleratus finally understood that while the system was powerful, it wasn’t omnipotent. In the face of true strength, external aids were merely tools. Only by becoming strong himself could he truly stand tall. And now, Agnus had clearly surpassed him.

  When Agnus heard Seleratus’s words, laced with both sarcasm and resignation, his rage flared anew. He growled hoarsely, “Seleratus, I don’t need your pity! If you’ve got the guts, fight me again! I want to hear you admit it—you’re my rival, and I’ll make you submit to me!”

  At these words, though Seleratus was surprised by Agnus’s intense desire to win, he had no energy left to argue. The two dragons clashed once more, their fierce duel lasting nearly an hour or two. As time passed, both sustained severe injuries in their brutal exchange, their bodies covered in scars and bloodstains, a testament to their merciless struggle.

  Though Seleratus, with his massive frame and deep reserves of energy, initially held the upper hand, his lack of combat experience meant his attacks often missed their mark. Agnus, on the other hand, relied on sheer willpower and years of honed skills to maintain his advantage. In the end, they traded blow for blow, the battle ending in a stalemate—neither could claim victory, their bodies too battered and exhausted to continue.

  As the dust of battle settled, Seleratus wearily crawled back to his stone bed. He lowered his head, quietly lying on the bed embedded in the rock wall, feeling the searing pain in every part of his body. Outside, the snow had stopped falling, leaving the area in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He reached into his supplies and pulled out some simple rations—not the concentrated energy of elemental fertilizer, but something imbued with the life force of nature, the only sustenance he could rely on now.

  Meanwhile, deep within the volcano, the dragon mother had not brought the fresh beast meat as promised, greatly prolonging Agnus’s recovery. After such an energy-draining battle, though still seething with anger, Agnus groaned in pain from his hunger and the wounds that refused to heal.

  In truth, his suffering stemmed more from his competitive and impulsive nature—it was this very trait that drove him to fight with all his might, but it also drained him of precious energy. His injuries were a constant reminder of his recklessness.

  Seleratus, however, chose a different path to heal. He lowered his head, using his sharp claws to scoop up some dirt from the ground, and without hesitation, brought it to his mouth.

  The soil contained pure natural energy. Though bitter, each mouthful allowed him to momentarily forget the brutality of the battle. At the same time, the energy within him began to slowly gather, and his wounds started to mend as his blood mingled with the earthy energy.

  Yet, this healing came at a cost—every wound that closed brought with it a searing pain, as if thousands of needles were stitching his flesh. Each exchange of energy caused subtle changes in his body, the agony almost unbearable. As the old saying goes, “The heavens are fair.” Greater healing demanded greater sacrifice.

  As the pain intensified, Seleratus could no longer endure. He closed his eyes, letting the torment consume him, his consciousness slipping into endless darkness… Gradually, his body softened, and he collapsed onto the cold stone bed, sinking into a deep slumber, as if his soul had fallen into an infinite void…