Seeing that the Red Hatchling seemed to enter a dangerous, furious state, the Ogres led by Monada did not dare to take it lightly.
In the past, they had indeed hunted White Dragons, even managing to capture slightly larger White Dragonlings. But those were mostly unenlightened, beast-like dragons; the mere breath of a True Dragon posed a fatal threat.
The forest before them showed few signs of being scorched.
Most importantly, she remembered the elders' warning: "If you encounter a Hatchling that has strayed from the Dragon Nest in the wilderness, be especially cautious of those with red scales. The White Dragons we've hunted were merely the least of the Chromatic Dragons. But Red Dragons... they are the foremost of the Evil Dragons!"
And today, an Evil Dragon's head will adorn the bone ornament on my chest! Monada silently vowed.
"Badona (Fight)!!!" the Ogre battle roar sounded once again.
Despite being the hunted, David clearly saw a different strategy than their previous all-out charge. This new Ogre seemed to know he understood the Ogre language. Aside from the initial battle cry, the rest of their communication was entirely through hand signals.
As a result, the Ogres who were previously keen to charge forward significantly slowed down, spreading out in all directions to block off any potential escape routes. At the same time, the two Ogres from before were also cautiously closing in on him, as instructed.
Seeing this, David couldn't help but curse inwardly, Damn it, this Ogre actually has some smarts! She knows I'm too injured to fly but might try to take them all down with a Dragon Breath if they gather too close. So, she's playing a game of attrition with me!
This was entirely different from the image he had of Ogres as big, dumb brutes that only knew how to charge.
In fact, even now, he still had a way out. That was to unleash another reverse breath attack and send himself to the heavens...
But that thought was almost immediately dismissed as it arose.
Seriously? At this point, if I were to attempt such a powerful reverse thrust again, even if I managed to unleash it, I'd instantly transform into a skeletal Dragon.
Even with the Authority of Gluttony as a safety net—allowing him to nibble on stones and avoid immediate death if unconscious—it was a terrible option. For a Hatchling desperately needing nutrients to grow, this path was nothing short of severing his own future, a slow death.
For David, who was living his life a second time, this was absolutely unacceptable! In this life, reborn as an unshackled great Dragon, he only wanted to live as his true self—unrestrained and doing as he pleased!
Not taking action until you see the rabbit, huh? Then it seems I can only gamble on another speculation... one about my own Authority.
GURGLE, GURGLE, GURGLE. A strange sound came from his stomach once again.
The Ogres, who had been closely watching his Dragon Kiss, hadn't noticed that David's cloacal vent, hidden by his lower limbs and tail, was already wide open, like a vacuum cleaner at full power.
A violent wind rushed in from under his feet. It passed through the Dragon's short but stout intestinal tract, his magnificent, furnace-like stomach, and crossed the epiglottis where the esophagus and trachea met. It surged all the way to the pulmonary flame sacs at the front of the Red Dragon's lungs, which glowed with a faint, dark red fluorescence.
THUMP.
This was accompanied by the simultaneous compression of his thoracic muscle groups, including the heart muscle and diaphragm, like a fire matrix operating at full capacity.
David cast a mocking glance at the tall, burly Ogre commanding the rearguard. Then, he suddenly twisted his body, planting all five limbs into the ground. He lifted a Dragon claw before his Dragon Kiss and uttered an enigmatic 'spell' in Ogre language—a string of sounds none of the Ogres present could understand: "Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!"
Monada was first taken aback, sifting through the few Draconic phrases she knew within her limited memory. When she caught sight of David's chest flickering red like molten lava and his cheeks puffing out abruptly, she instantly felt deceived. Somewhat angrily, she yelled to the two Ogre brothers nearing the Red Dragon, "Run!!!"
But it was already a bit late.
Instinctively sensing danger, the Ogre brothers scattered to either side. That way, even in the worst-case scenario, at least one of them might remain unscathed.
Yet the reality of the situation once again shattered their imaginations, grinding their barren knowledge into the horizon.
They saw a conical, blazing flame erupt from his Dragon Kiss. It was diverted by the Dragon claw positioned in front, precisely engulfing both Ogres.
The relentless flames poured into the dense forest behind them. In an instant, everything in the path of the searing Dragon Breath melted away like winter snow; the vegetation withered, and tree bark cracked and split. The scorching heat from the Dragon Breath, which had turned the Ogre siblings to char, ignited a forest fire in the newly green Northland within seconds of their petrified collapse. The surrounding moisture caused clouds of steam to billow into the air, like signal smoke warning of war.
David, the instigator of this disaster, was propelled by the recoil of his Dragon Breath, scooting back to the edge of the deep pit he had gnawed with his mouth.
As the mist and dust cleared, it revealed his alien visage, one that even the remaining Ogres found chilling. If before he had merely resembled a malnourished Hatchling, now he appeared to have transformed into a skeletal 'Lich Dragon.' It was as if all the nutrients and energy inside him had been squeezed out and converted into that terrifying flame.
This abrupt and eerie transformation caused the five remaining Ogres to widen their eyes and retreat in shock.
David, now skeletal, extended a claw towards the Ogres, gave a haunting, hoarse chuckle, wobbled, and then plunged headfirst into the pit, vanishing without a sound.
The Ogres, having never encountered such a situation, looked at each other in confusion. Their own fat-filled heads couldn't comprehend the intentions of the Red Dragon, whose mind, they imagined, was similarly full of magma.
Finally, after a brief silence, one Ogre descended into the pit at a gesture from Monada to investigate. After confirming the Red Dragon was indeed lifeless, the three other Ogres—Monada remaining at the pit's edge—climbed down. They prepared to carry the rare Dragon skeleton back to their tribe.
Monada ordered, "Move quickly! This is a Dragon worthy of respect. I will polish his skull meticulously. It will be my life's most perfect work, a gift for my love!"
But just as the Ogres were about to solemnly remove the Dragon corpse from the pit, that haunting, hoarse voice sounded again, "All... things... celestial... pull..."
The Ogres looked around in terror, only to see the desiccated Dragon's head break out into peals of laughter, "Indeed... heh heh... heh heh hahaha... This is really fun, hm hahahaha..."
The laughter, like a breeze from hell, instantly turned into a storm that devoured everything. It stripped and tore the flames from the forest's tree trunks. Like twilight butterflies of the netherworld, they fluttered and rushed towards the endless Abyss.
Authority—Gluttony
"No!!!" the Ogres in the pit shrieked, their desperate cries of despair echoing from below.