Starting out as a Dragon Slave-Chapter 93: Nothing Matters More Than Your Death

The world had become a heartbeat.No more thoughts. No more fear. Just... the dull thrum of a frenzied heart, the constant hum of an overloaded mana core spinning in Isaac’s chest like a turbine hungry for war.His blood boiled beneath his skin, a searing contrast to the frozen air, which crystallized every breath into fleeting clouds of mist.

The vast snow-covered plain stretched endlessly before him, a white ocean laced with blue veins where ancient ice emerged. Frost-born stalagmites rose from the ground like forgotten lances of a defeated army, and the sky if one could call the heavy gray vault above their heads that seemed frozen in eternal winter.

And in the very next instant, he launched.

Explosion.

His mana wings beat with such force that a shock cone detonated beneath his feet, sending a plume of powdery snow rocketing skyward like a white comet on the horizon. The air itself screamed under the violence of his takeoff. Isaac hadn’t even drawn his blade in preparation he was already in flight, katana torn from its sheath in a lightning arc, the steel singing with thirst for blood while the scabbard still vibrated from the absence of the blade. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

His draconic body, now cloaked in black scales with shimmering blue highlights, sang with the wind. Each plate slid seamlessly across the next with a muffled rasp like the rustle of a raven’s wings. Filaments of mana hissed from between his scales, like steam rising from burning flesh plunged into ice. His face was calm, but his molten-orange pupils betrayed the storm raging inside a wildfire barely held back by the dam of his focus.

The dragon ahead turned slowly.

A suspended moment in which time itself seemed to hold its breath.

He, too, had felt the mana wave, that distortion in the fabric of reality itself. He, too, understood this was no longer the same opponent.The being rushing toward him was no longer the hesitant fighter from earlier — it was a force of nature unleashed.

But he didn’t move. He waited.Analysis before action. The cold calculation of a creature that had lived for millennia.Still, he drew his black blade and prepared for Isaac.

Isaac tore through the distance.

The first strike was an unconventional Raijinzan, a horizontal flash of steel aimed at the dragon’s left ribs a cut that would’ve cleaved an ancient tree in two without slowing. The very air howled under the pressure, ice particles glinting in its wake like dying stars. But the dragon calmly raised his left elbow, blocking with a bracer made of unknown metal, veined with glowing red lines. A deep metallic clang rang through the frozen air — thunder trapped inside a crystal bell followed by a subtle crack. A microscopic fissure appeared in the bracer.

Isaac didn’t smile. Not even at that.His mind was too focused.

He flowed immediately into the next motion, no pause, no hesitation, no conscious thought. Every fiber of his being was attuned to battle a perfectly tuned instrument.He twisted midair with gravity-defying grace and unleashed a reversed Narukami: spiraling downward like a drill, he used the rotation to deliver an upward diagonal slash a perfect arc that would have decapitated any opponent.

Snow cascaded around them in a soundless blast.The dragon stepped back at the last instant, the blade grazing the tip of his helmet.

Then, he countered.

The dragon moved without warning, without the telltale hesitation every living thing needs before action.One step. A wrist twist. A thrust.

He didn’t move like a human.He flowed like a mountain stream relentless, fluid.His body, compact and serpentine, moved like an armored serpent, each gesture measured with mathematical precision.Every attack was a seamless extension of the previous one.A flawless chain.A lethal equation written in the language of blades and blood.

The black blade shot forward, its edge devouring the meager light of the dungeon, leaving behind a trail of pure shadow.

Isaac arched backward, feeling death’s breath graze his throat. The tip of the dragon’s sword sliced a scale from under his chin, drawing a thin red line so fine it carried no pain yet.He used the momentum to flip back, wings flaring, rising in a burst of pulverized snow, and carved a defensive arc in the air.

His blade drew a glowing crescent, mana sparks of azure dancing in its wake, forcing the dragon back a step his metal claws carving deep gouges into the ice below.

But Isaac knew.Every fiber of him screamed warning.

The dragon was adapting.To his angles.To his reflexes.To his speed.

Like an artificial intelligence absorbing and analyzing every data point to optimize its response.Isaac wasn’t just fighting an opponent he was battling a living library of perfected combat, refined over centuries.

The storm of blows that followed was indescribable.

Their blades clashed at a pace no human eye could follow, creating a metallic symphony where every note was a possible death knell. Sparks flew with each impact, illuminating the battlefield in fleeting constellations born only to die.

The very air tore beneath the violence of their strikes, producing instant vacuums immediately filled with miniature implosions.

Even distant observers if any remained in this forsaken dungeon would see nothing but flashes of light, arcs of white and black crossing like twin comets in a winter sky.

Each step kicked up clouds of powder that froze midair, suspended by inhuman speed.Each blow shattered the ice below, exposing ancient rock, etching their duel into the bones of the earth.

Fragments of armor flew.Blood human and otherwise traced crimson spirals across the snow.

Time stood still.

Isaac’s katana slid along the enemy’s blade in a shower of sparks that seemed suspended in the air, as if time itself had stretched to preserve that moment.Two faces passed within impossible proximity, their breaths mingling into clouds of crystalline vapor.

The dragon’s yellow eyes slit like a reptile’s, cold and calculating, like distant stars in a winter sky.An ancient and patient intelligence that had seen civilizations rise and fall.

Isaac’s orange eyes incandescent like a god’s forge, flames dancing in his irises as if his very soul were burning.A primal rage, a determination born from survival, and despair refined into strength.

And one blink later—

**A burning fist slammed into Isaac’s chest.**

The strike came from nowhere. Unpredictable. Unstoppable.A mass of metal and living scale propelled by ancient muscle and primordial magic.It felt like being struck by a mountain in motion.

The breath was ripped from his lungs so violently Isaac thought, for a moment, that his heart had stopped.A blinding pain exploded in his ribcage, radiating outward like lightning in a summer storm.He was launched backward with cataclysmic force, his body punching through three ice walls, each one shattering into crystalline fragments, barely slowing his momentum.

His back slammed into a frozen slab that cracked into a spiderweb of fractures.He rolled several meters before coming to a stop, sprawled in the snow, melting it with the residual heat of his draconic body.Arms outstretched like a crucified man. Wings folded at impossible angles.

Silence.

A total, suffocating silence, as if the entire world had stopped breathing.

Then...

He rose.

Slowly. Painfully. Inexorably.One knee first. Then a hand gripping the katana, half-buried in the snow.His body trembled with effort, every motion dragging a grimace of pain across his face.

The scale-armor had absorbed some of the blow — without it, his sternum would’ve shattered but his ribcage screamed in protest, likely fractured in multiple places.Blood dripped slowly from the corner of his mouth, tracing a crimson line down his chin before falling into the snow, which drank it hungrily.

Every breath was torture, as though his lungs were filled with shards of glass.Still, he inhaled. Deeply.Welcoming the pain like an old friend.

His mana core, far from weakening under the blow, was spinning faster.A vortex of blue energy pulsed beneath his scales, visible through the seams of his living armor.

It wasn’t slowing down.

It was accelerating.

Isaac raised his gaze, locking eyes with the dragon who was now approaching with calculated slowness, his every step cracking the ice beneath him.The gaze of a predator, aware his prey was injured but still wary.

Isaac didn’t smile.

—

He charged.

No scream.No taunt.No grand declaration.

Just the continuation of the battle, as if every second was just another link in an infinite chain of action and reaction.He propelled himself forward slower than before, but still faster than any human mana wings slicing the air with a sharp whistle.

This time, he used [Seismic Strike].

His foot, sheathed in condensed mana that warped the very air around it, slammed into the ground with fury.A strike that could’ve leveled a building.

The frost cracked like thunder.Ice gave way beneath the impact, fissures racing outward in every direction, forming a complex web stretching dozens of meters.The ground vibrated like an earthquake, throwing pillars of shattered ice skyward.

The dragon, caught off guard despite his inhuman reflexes, lost balance for a quarter of a second the blink of an eye. An eternity in their deadly dance.

And it was enough.

Isaac dove like a raptor, wings flaring, body taut like a drawn bow, and slashed in a cross.A double strike so fast it looked simultaneous perpendicular cuts forming a deadly X.

The dragon, off-balance, blocked the vertical slash in a spray of blue sparks, his black sword shuddering from the impact.But the horizontal cut struck true, slicing deep into his left thigh tearing through his scales like paper, revealing strangely pale flesh and thick, violet-black blood that poured from the wound.

The dragon staggered back, metal claws gouging deep trenches into the ice.

He growled.

And the dungeon trembled.

Despite the countless blows exchanged, only minutes had passed since the boss’s death and already, the dungeon was beginning to shake and collapse.