The Black Dragon (3)
The moment Oude Grad sneered at me, he immediately began to retreat. For all his swaggering arrogance, the creature flew off in the direction his kin would be arriving from.
He's not leaving even the smallest risk on the table.
This was a monster who wouldn't shy away from any ugliness if it meant winning. The claim that he had overcome every trial thrown at him was clearly no empty boast.
The number of Galagons I could sense through my auxiliary organs kept climbing. Most of the ones nesting inside that cave must have burst out. If things stayed this way, my victory was as good as impossible.
I need to change my plan.
Honestly speaking, gunning down Oude Grad here and now looked anything but easy. He possessed a crisis-detection ability that outclassed even my Predator Sense. Gleaning information about it mid-fight would have been ideal, but with us at an absolute disadvantage, that route was closed off too.
Which left me with exactly one option.
I have to pull back and regroup.
That didn't mean I intended to flee like a helpless prey animal, exactly as he wanted.
Right here, right now, I'll smash apart as much of his arsenal as I can.
Take the subordinates winging toward me at this very moment. Thin those Galagons out, and my next strike against Oude Grad would go infinitely smoother.
Which means I need my own allies too.
It was the only way to whittle down my enemies while slipping past his precognition.
Through my Predator Sense, I could see it clearly: the ability collected and computed countless surrounding factors to sketch out the future most likely to occur. I had no idea how his crisis-detection actually worked. But if it operated on a similar principle, then the more unfavorable variables stacked against him, the better off I'd be.
And those unfavorable variables, in the end, were my own abilities — and my companions.
At the very least, I have to call PS-111.
She could pilot the cruiser, so she'd be an enormous help in getting everyone out of here.
The only question was how to reach her all the way from here...
And I have the perfect tool for the job.
Just as he had summoned his pack with his Maelstrom, I too possessed the power to unleash a violent atmospheric anomaly — the power of the Thunder God, capable of twisting the air and shattering the sky itself.
PS-111 will recognize my signal.
She was stationed aboard the cruiser. She'd already confirmed the sky had gone strange thanks to Oude Grad's Maelstrom. If I fired God's Whip from here, she'd grasp my peril instantly and move.
I raised my head toward the direction of Oude Grad's retreat — the direction his horde was converging from.
At my command, the powers suffusing my entire body came to a furious boil. The black carapace and scales began to bleed gold. The wave of color started at the pincer on my tail's tip, at my fingertips, at the edges of my outstretched wings, then flowed inward toward my chest.
High above the churning heavens, where countless waterspouts coiled and spun, my body blazed with light.
I didn't need to think to know that Oude Grad would dodge my strike. But the Galagons rushing to reinforce him were another matter entirely.
To deal them real damage, I drew on more energy than I ever had before.
The last time I'd gathered this much firepower had been my battle against the Imperial Carrier. The yield was roughly a tenth of what I'd unleashed then.
But that didn't make it weak — not remotely. On this planet, the only creature capable of surviving this attack was a Skywhale.
With every preparation complete, I opened my jaws. My upper jaw rose, my lower jaw split wide into two branching flaps. Like a serpent swallowing its prey, my mouth gaped to its absolute limit.
Then the energy pooled in my chest erupted — a volcano disgorging the power of a god. True to its name, the whip wielded by the Thunder God came lashing out of my mouth.
Golden heat rays tore the atmosphere apart like the chariot that dragged the sun across the heavens in the myths of old.
Then came the waterspouts, the lightning, the blizzard of snow. A detonation no natural phenomenon could ever imitate shook the planet's atmosphere to its core.
Even Adhai, who had no ears, even Nel Germa, trembled bodily at the supernatural vibration birthed by that divine power.
Oude Grad, retreating with his tail conspicuously turned, sensed the danger and jerked his body aside. God's Whip passed him by and stretched on beyond the horizon. In its wake, golden spiderwebs of light spread through the black clouds smothering the planet's skies.
Just as I'd predicted, the Galagons failed to evade an attack that came flying from beyond their line of sight. I dismissed the translucent text box floating before me and spread my wings wide.
[ZZZZZT ZZZT ZZZZZZ ZZZZZT (PS-111 is coming. We just have to hold out until then.)]
｢Okay! I'm gonna scold all those bad people who bully babies!｣
｢Black Kin｣｢Strong｣｢Acknowledge｣｢Command｣｢Obey｣
｢Big Adult｣｢Cool｣
Nel Germa's thought-waves turned noticeably more deferential, and Adhai seemed rather pleased about it. Both of them had been terrified out of their wits just moments ago, yet not a trace of fear remained now. The presence of a transcendent being at their side had visibly heartened them.
Good.
Flying ahead of them, I took stock of the energy I had left.
I'd burned through far more than usual, but reserves still remained — thanks to Berserk Synapse, which helped my body manage its internal energy with ruthless efficiency.
I can fire it two more times.
I could stretch the count by weakening the blasts, but I had no intention of doing that.
Speeding through the air, I finally caught sight of the enemy.
Seven large-bodied White Galagons, nine smaller and leaner ones, and fifteen Green Galagons. And behind them all loomed Oude Grad, the Black Galagon.
They were chattering among themselves in thought-waves. I couldn't parse the content, but one thing was perfectly clear.
The Green Galagons and the small White Galagons were afraid. They had just watched their own kin be reduced to ash in midair.
If they had no leader, they'd have turned tail already...
One of the large White Galagons lashed out with its tail, clubbing a nearby Green Galagon. After that, the rest grudgingly readied themselves for battle.
So those are Oude Grad's mates.
So the rumors were true — they'd grown fat and strong on his favor. Judging by the psychic power radiating off them, they weren't quite on Ham Ort's level, but they were far stronger than ordinary White Galagons.
I'll target those seven if I can.
Targets chosen, I charged straight at their formation. The Galagons under Oude Grad's command unleashed their Psychic Breaths in a single unified volley.
Dozens of violet beams came streaking toward me.
Attacks woven from pure destructive psychic force. I banked and rolled, adjusting my wing angles to thread between them. But dodging every single one would have been impossible even for me, and several strikes hammered against my scales and carapace.
Pain Mitigation
Each time, the text box flared up, and the heat rays deflected off my Psychic Reflection Carapace splashed back out through the clouds.
A dull ache rose from the struck areas, but I paid it no mind. To earn the effect of Mimic Scales, I had to absorb the enemy's attacks — deliberately, and in volume.
My current assignment was to fight while taking just enough punishment to avoid crippling or lethal injury. Even as I focused on the battle, I had to keep a running tally of the damage accumulating across my body.
This is where the Amorph's signature Super Sense earns its keep.
If I had actually strained over every last detail, my head would have burst open before the fight even properly began.
Behind me — dodging what I dodged, tanking what I tanked — flew Adhai and Nel Germa. They used me as a living shield, hugging my flank as close as they could.
However swift Adhai or Nel Germa might be, no one could evade the Breaths of dozens of Galagons. So hiding behind something larger and far better armored than themselves was simply the natural choice.
And so, when I judged the distance had closed enough—
Facing Oude Grad's pack head-on, I readied my Psychic Breath. Not an ordinary one, but the Color of the Abyss version.
The Monster's Tentacles dangling in clusters from the back of my skull and neck swayed with ominous promise. Watching them, Oude Grad fired off a hasty thought-wave.
｢Beware!｣
His mates scrambled back at the command, but the other Galagons were slower to react. I sprayed my empowered Psychic Breath right into them.
Bubbles of annihilation dripped from the tentacles' tips like droplets falling from water, then lunged to sink their teeth into their targets. Compared to the Galagons, they were vanishingly small — but their power was nothing to sneer at.
And one ignorant Galagon proved it firsthand. A Green Galagon, frozen mid-motion as it fired its heat rays at me, flinched violently the instant a bubble touched its tail.
Because the little bubble had swallowed its tail whole in a heartbeat, like paint dropped into water — and was already crawling up toward its lower body.
The Galagon's peculiar throat structure made screaming impossible. Instead, the thought-waves of agony it broadcast echoed through the open air.
I lunged at the creature while the bubble was still melting through it. I spread my lower jaws wide and aimed for the neck, just behind the head. Wracked by the sensation of its entire lower half melting away, the thing barely registered my attack.
With my jaws clamped tight around the slender Galagon's throat, I wrenched. Bone snapped, flesh tore, and the head came away clean.
With it, the unpleasant thought-wave — like a hook scraping across sheet metal — cut off mid-note. The dead Galagon's body plummeted toward the ground.
Watching it fall, I called for No. 26.
[ZZZT (Please.)]
｢Okay!｣
She waved her tentacles like an orchestra conductor, and the bubbles gnawing on the Galagon's corpse lifted into the air — then swarmed toward the other Galagons.
One of No. 26's controlled bubbles engulfed a sluggish Galagon, and I ended its pain the same way I had the last one's.
｢Scatter, all of you!｣
At Oude Grad's roar, the Galagons blew their formations wide apart. With the enemy spread out again, the coordinated Psychic Breath tactics with No. 26 were finished for now.
I could've killed more. A shame.
I gulped down the head of the Galagon I was biting. Under any other circumstances I would have savored the taste, but all I could feel now was regret.
Oude Grad, having pulled back his subordinates, launched his own attack. A breath deeper and darker than anyone else's here — a black-violet lance that tried to punch straight through me. I kicked off the air with my wings and climbed to evade it, closing in on the direction of his subordinates.
This way he can't attack without— wait, you've got to be—
Oude Grad didn't care in the slightest that his own subordinates might take the hit. The breath of condensed psychic force grazed past beneath my tail. One of the young White Galagons behind me caught it full-on, its wing punched clean through.
｢Great Oude Grad!｣｢Young Kin｣｢In Danger!｣
｢Black Traitor｣｢More Dangerous｣｢Sacrifice｣｢Unavoidable｣
One of the mates hastily implored her leader through a thought-wave, but it bounced off him like rain off stone. I caught the wounded White Galagon as it tumbled, wing holed, and crushed its skull between my teeth. The thing thrashed and fought — until its head gave way, and then it simply stopped.
And in that instant, an unexpected message flashed before my eyes.
Predation Effect activated!
What? Check it — now!
Any other time I'd have rejoiced at the lucky break, but I was in the middle of a battle. I skimmed just the essentials, then called for Adhai.
[ZZZZZT (Adhai.)]
｢Acknowledged｣
She'd been fighting alongside Nel Germa against the other Galagons, and now she streaked toward me like white lightning.
For her to mature, she needed to prey upon White Galagons. But in the current situation, consuming a whole specimen was next to impossible.
I wonder if eating it in pieces would count.
Considering the paradox of the Ship of Theseus, the odds weren't good — but this was the only avenue worth trying right now.
Clutching both Adhai and the White Galagon's corpse, I dove into a nearby waterspout.
The vortex would strip a naked human to nothing on contact, leaving not a trace — but that hardly applied to a body harder than a warship's hull.
[ZZZ ZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZ (I'll shield you, so eat this.)]
｢Lowly mongrel!｣｢How Dare You!｣
I'd hidden inside the waterspout to feed Adhai the corpse — and Oude Grad's fury-soaked thought-waves came pouring in from outside. Along with them, I felt a current of monstrous energy closing in at terrifying speed.
Adhai and I threw ourselves aside just in time. His Breath vaporized the Galagon's body I'd been holding, down to the last fleck.
So he knows, too.
It was obvious he understood the secret bound up in a Galagon's growth. And the way he'd reacted so violently — he clearly regarded it with extreme wariness.
...He fears Adhai's growth.
Important information. I filed it away in my memory and emerged from the waterspout with Adhai shielded against my body. Violet light was waiting for me the moment I came out.
｢Big Adult｣｢Okay?｣
[ZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZ (I'm fine. Don't worry.)]
She was worried because she'd watched my carapace and scales shatter and peel away under the enemy's attacks.
Honestly, claiming it didn't hurt would be a lie — but endure it I must.
Not much longer now.
And the sign was encouraging: with every Breath I absorbed, the pain was fading a little more. Proof that Mimic Scales' immunity system was activating.
Soaking up the heat rays, I kept closing the distance to the nearest Galagons. But the moment I got within striking range, they'd cut off their attacks and retreat.
In one of those gaps, I released Adhai and disgorged a mass of fungus into the air. The clumped blob of green slime dropped toward the ground — then defied physics mid-fall and went rocketing off somewhere.
A fungus mass guided forward through the sky by No. 26's psychic power. And waiting at the end of its flight path was one of the large White Galagon mates.
She tried to fall back, but No. 26 was faster. The airborne fungus detonated like a claymore, showering across her wings.
Her white wings were smeared with blood in moments, eaten raw by the acidic fungus. She lashed out with irritated Purple Lightning and burned the growths away.
Not a bad response — but she'd missed something: that the enemy right in front of her mattered more than the fungus.
She spotted me only when I was already upon her, and fired her Psychic Breath in a panic. In near-perfect simultaneity, I swung the pincer at the end of my tail.
A portion of the Psychic Breath that struck me was reflected back, slamming into her own body. The White Galagon faltered, bewildered by what had just happened. And while she hesitated, the natural flail hanging from my body was still hurtling toward its target.
The pincer was about to smash into her abdomen when a black dragon appeared above my head.
｢Die!｣
Oude Grad — who had dangled his own mate as bait to draw me in — hammered his massive forepaw into my skull.
Pain Mitigation
Even senile, the creature's strength was monstrous. It hit with force rivaling the charge of an Ice Horror — I nearly felt my neck snap from the impact alone.
Falling backward, I unleashed the Gaze of Horror upon him. There was no time to layer on the Color of the Abyss.
For the briefest of moments, his eyes clouded — then snapped back to normal. The affliction had landed, all right, but like any Black Galagon possessed of colossal psychic resistance, he shook it off almost instantly.
And with it came the images swimming before my eyes. My Predator Sense had activated, forecasting my own death.
｢Worthless Thing｣｢Petty Tricks｣｢Useless｣
He fired a Psychic Breath the instant the thought completed. The window was hair-thin, but my Predator Sense had already flagged the attack, and I wrenched my body low to slip past it.
Gah!
The distance was simply too short. I barely kept my life, but I couldn't stop myself from taking a grievous wound. The black-violet breath erased the entire underside of my tail — and with it, the pincer at its tip vanished without a trace.
Pain Mitigation
｢Feeble Thing｣｢This Ends It｣
His cluster of tentacles flooded with black-violet light. Dodging now was already too late.
｢Big Baby!｣
I felt No. 26's wavelength reaching for me. But for all her power, blocking a breath from a foe this mighty — at point-blank range — was impossible.
｢Big Adult!｣
Far away, Adhai had seen my peril and flown to help, only to be blocked by another Galagon.
Time slowed. I could feel the power gathering, concentrating in his tentacles.
The instant his attack was about to be unleashed—
A bright light appeared on the far side of Oude Grad's head.
The sun? No... that's...
This planet sustained life, so of course it had a star. But that brilliant light was not the sun.
Because there was no way in hell the sun could come flying all the way down to where we were.
A mass of energy — familiar, like the psychic power wielded by me and the Galagons, yet laced with some cluttering impurity.
I knew exactly what it was.
Oude Grad, his judgment clouded by the pleasure of getting to kill me with his own claws, recognized it a beat too late.
｢What...?｣
While his head was still turning, I snapped my wings shut and dropped. Less than a second later, a massive detonation bloomed directly above where I'd been hanging.
As I plummeted toward the ground, a familiar aircraft came into view.
｢Wow! Our friend is here!｣
The broadcast rang out from the ivory, diamond-shaped cruiser gleaming in the light. The owner of that stiff, mechanical voice was someone both No. 26 and I knew well.
PS-111 — the Mutant Screamer developed by the Star Union.
Guided down by a golden beam of light, she had come.