Due to time constraints, Alistair and Riseth couldn’t afford to spend too much time narrowing down a target. The retaliatory strikes against the Blackmarket Syndicates could begin any day. The Coalition had already identified potential targets but was waiting for some of the Syndicate’s most dangerous figures to reveal themselves. Once they did, the Coalition planned to blockade those systems and potentially ambush them. This would allow the rest of the Coalition forces, including the Ryser Clan, to strike other sites without worrying about interference from the Syndicate’s most powerful combatants.

  Fortunately, they had a team of surveyors observing the planet below for some time before they arrived, which made their job much easier. They had a rough idea of which dragon flights might be more amenable to cooperation and which were likely to be extremely hostile. The decision they faced was whether to target the hostile dragon flights or focus on independent dragons—those who refused to join a flight, most of whom were among the more powerful on the planet.

  The Nythraxion dragon flight, composed of black dragons, was initially an unknown factor. Their scouts had attempted a reconnaissance mission to gather more information, but the moment the dragons detected them, they launched a violent attack. The scouts had barely escaped the planet, reporting the dragons' intense bloodlust and immediate hostility toward anything approaching their territory. This aggression made the Nythraxion dragons the preferred target, though Alistair and Riseth intended to try diplomacy first. Dragons respected power, but these were borderline wild creatures with heightened intellect, so they would have to be cautious.

  Alistair and Riseth had already waited two days since arriving in the system, hoping a small group of dragons would split off from the main flight for them to confront.

  As Alistair dozed off in the cockpit, Viv purred contentedly on his lap. A gentle shake from Riseth snapped him awake, and he met her serious gaze.

  "I spotted a trio of Nythraxions leaving the flight," she said, her voice firm. "They’re hunting in a mostly isolated area. This might be our best chance before we run out of time."

  Alistair’s gaze hardened as he looked at the screen Riseth was pointing to, showing three large dragons circling a canyon filled with molten rock. While the trio was the number they needed, it was more than he wanted to deal with at once. He would have preferred to watch over King during the duel, but based on what they knew about the Nythraxion dragons, they would accept a battle to the death—though they likely wouldn’t just sit and watch. They’d almost certainly attack him and Riseth while the fight took place.

  King, overhearing their conversation, entered the bridge with grim determination on his face.

  "You don’t need to worry about that," King said, his voice steady. "They will watch. A battle for Draconic Ascension is to be respected—they would bring shame upon their lineage if they interfered. Even a feral dragon knows this."

  Alistair let out a deep sigh before looking at King, his expression tinged with reluctance. They had done everything possible to prepare him for this battle, and spending more time would only give the dragons a chance to strengthen their inherent lead. Alistair was confident he could take on one of these dragons, and he was sure Riseth could too, but King was the unknown factor. There was a very real chance he might die in the attempt. And if Alistair were to interfere, it would permanently damage King’s path, barring him from any future battles of Draconic Ascension—something King’s pride would never allow.

  They might not get another chance before joining the retaliatory strikes against the Syndicates. They had been warned that once the call came in, it would likely be an extremely time-sensitive operation.

  Alistair was eager to obtain the Dragon Slayer title and grant King the opportunity to evolve before that. They had little to no data on these three particular dragons, beyond what their scanners could make out from orbit—which wasn’t much aside from their size and grade.

  "If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss them," King pressed, impatience clear in his tone.

  Alistair nodded. "Fine, let’s go." He rose from his chair, turning to face King. "It’s time for you to ascend."

  King let out a guttural growl of approval despite his humanoid form, a wicked smile spreading across his face as his anticipation surged.

  They stored the Artemis and Viv before zeroing in on the powerful auras of the trio, teleporting to a location near their vicinity.

  All three dragons were massive, quite a bit larger than King, but not enough to dwarf him as he turned into a formidably sized beast himself, letting out a loud, challenging roar.

  The Dragons had immediately noticed their appearance and had turned to attack them, incredible bloodlust radiating off them.

  They watched as the heavily scaled and leathery winged beasts approached them at high speeds, their red draconic eyes visibly glowing even at this distance. Their auras immediately pressed down on them, and they immediately countered the Dragon's Fear with their own Bloodcurdling Presence skills.

  Alistair frowned. Dragons had a wide variety of unique powers, though not all Dragons possessed them like a Dragon's heart. Dragon Fear was one such ability that wasn't found in low-tier Dragons, which meant there were at least regular, if not high-tier, feral dragons.

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  As the dragons drew closer, ready to strike, King stomped forward, his head held high.

  "I seek a battle of Draconic Ascension!" he bellowed his challenge. "Which one of you is willing to face me and die?"

  The three dragons halted their advance and landed on the far side of the canyon. Their claws dug into the rock, crushing it beneath their weight as if compelled to stop.

  Alistair took the opportunity to inspect them. They appeared evenly matched in strength, their thick scales exuding a formidable magical resistance. They didn’t seem to be juveniles, but neither were they fully adult. Covered in spikes with long, razor-sharp claws and horns flowing back from their heads, their features were sharp, and their muscle-bound bodies radiated power. Alistair could feel their hearts pounding with raw energy, an intimate pulse of strength coursing through them.

  There was a pause, pregnant with anticipation, as the two sides sized each other up. The wind whistled through the canyon, the only sound besides the bubbling flow of molten rock below.

  Before King could declare his opponent, the spikiest of the dragons stepped forward, her dark scales illuminated by the glowing river of lava beneath. Her draconic visage looked vicious, and Alistair could have sworn he saw a sneer etched across the dragon's sharp features.

  "I, Zarlith, accept your challenge, wormling," the dragoness bellowed, her voice echoing through the canyon.

  Alistair felt a compulsion wash over him, urging him to step aside. Reluctantly, he relented, unwilling to disrupt the ancient magic at play. He watched as the other dragons did the same, their eyes locked on the two combatants, intently observing as King and Zarlith sized each other up.

  Before more words could be spoken, both combatants took to the air. King was the first to strike, unleashing a hail of cursed feathers. However, with a single powerful flap of her wings, the dragoness effortlessly dispersed them, sending the feathers scattering in all directions. She retaliated with a stream of acid breath, but King dodged with ease, countering immediately with his newly upgraded Cursed Resonance beam. The beam arced through the air and struck the dragon in the blink of an eye, but her thick scales shrugged off all of the physical damage without issue. However, some of the cursed energy from the beam managed to resonate through her body, infecting her with a lingering curse. It began to subtly disrupt the flow of energy within her, increasing her vulnerability over time until she could cleanse herself of its effects.

  She beat her powerful wings, dashing toward King with blinding speed. He rolled out of the way at the last second, dodging her glowing fangs, his slightly more agile frame giving him the edge. As they passed, the cursed energy within King lashed out like tendrils, binding to her as they latched onto Zarlith. The curse tightened its grip, the dark magic growing stronger and draining her strength with each passing moment—just as King felt his own power intensify in response.

  She spun her head, unleashing another arc of acid breath too close for King to dodge. His cursed barrier flared to life, rapidly melting under the corrosive attack, but not before delivering a vicious magical backlash to Zarlith, forcing her to recoil. Even so, some of her acid breath slipped through as the barrier melted away, eating into King’s flesh and armored plates. He grunted in pain, but Alistair could sense the grim satisfaction as more of King's conditional curses activated, using the pain as a weapon as his bladed tail was wreathed in cursed flames.

  Alistair stood tense, watching every movement. The power difference between them was undeniable, but the dragon clearly lacked true combat experience. King’s finely honed skills and experience acted as a great equalizer, slowly but surely closing the gap. Yet, Alistair could see Zarlith’s Dragon Heart already working to cleanse the inflicted curses through sheer might. Magic coursed violently through her body, washing away the curses at the cost of draining her prodigious draconic energy.

  King took a sharp, calculated turn, showcasing his exceptional flying skills. Zarlith twisted midair, trying to face him, and unleashed another blast of corrosive breath. Multiple cursed barriers flared up to intercept it. They faltered but still created enough backlash to disrupt the dragoness's focus once again. Part of the acid splashed onto King's face and body, burning through his flesh. He grunted in pain, but he pressed on, nearly unfazed. The cursed flames along his bladed tail grew even stronger, their black and purple glow visible now, even without skills like Alistair’s conceptual awareness.

  With a sharp flip, King lashed out, his bladed tail crashing into Zarlith’s raised claw, severing several of her talons and slicing deep into her lower neck. The cursed flames seared into her, leaving a deep, burned gash as more vile curses took hold. Zarlith’s Heart struggled to purge the affliction, its power raging as it fought to cleanse the curses while her body coursed with intense amounts of Mana. King took the opportunity to send his cursed feathers at Zarith as he flapped away from her flailing form. Her dragon hide easily blocked the feathers, though Alistair could see that the curses had still been transmitted through contact, although severely weakened by the dragon scales incredible magic resistance. Fortunately, she didn't seem to have specific curse resistance.

  "Playtime is over, wormling!" the dragoness hissed, her pride giving way to a cold, calculating fury—not too different from Alistair’s own cold rage skill.

  The temperature noticeably dropped as a freezing wind began to swirl around her, brewing into a storm that fought against the scorching environment.

  Zarlith had finally deemed King dangerous enough to use her concept rather than just her inherent draconic powers.

  Alistair frowned slightly. His sister could have greatly benefited from this particular dragon's heart, though they would have to settle for the rest of its body. Frost began to coat Zarlith's scales, and the curses within her started to freeze, slowing their rampage, though Alistair could sense that it still caused her harm to do so.

  King continued to assail her with a barrage of cursed feathers and beams, hoping to overwhelm her body with the sheer volume and diversity of curses. But as the storm intensified around Zarlith, only his beam attacks managed to connect—though even those were sporadic.

  King had developed a curse technique that empowered him whenever his curses were overpowered and cleansed by his opponents—a countermeasure Alistair had suggested to deal with foes capable of purging his afflictions. It was a conditional curse technique with frightening power scaling, rapidly growing stronger the more his curses were cleansed and his power pushed back.

  However... with Zarlith's inherent understanding of her concept, it wasn’t enough.

  Alistair felt a flicker of dread as a glimmering storm of sharp ice spears began to blot out the sky, forming a mesmerizing yet deadly display of her magical prowess. The ice spears glittered in the air, hanging like a frozen storm above them.

  King roared, gathering every ounce of cursed energy he could muster as he shifted into his humanoid form, his tail still ablaze with cursed flames. He poured everything into reinforcing his cursed barriers as the storm came crashing down on him.