Chapter 1440
Did you feel threatened?
Each flap of Nidhogg's wings was a severe test for the heavens. Like a small, transparent glass sphere, it had to withstand all the storms unleashed by the dragon's skeleton as it flapped its wings. Tangible gales swept in, gathering beneath Nidhogg's wings, twisted and shattered by immense pressure. They relentlessly passed through the hollow skeleton, resonating with the pale dragon bones, creating a howling sound that echoed between the abyss and the narrow valley, as if someone from beyond the heavens had breathed into this transparent glass sphere, dispersing the mist and dust, and the countless broken scars.
Nidhogg's size was so immense that the storms created by his wings had to offset some of his weight so that the ground beneath his feet could bear his steps without collapsing. In this sense, he seemed to be inherently lacking in one ability compared to other dragons: the ability to soar freely and unrestrained through the heavens. Even in flight, his size destined this extraordinary dragon to lack the agility and nimbleness of agile movements, and to be unable to control the winds with the fluidity of mastering his own body and mind. For dragons who viewed the sky as their territory, looking down upon the mortal world from a high vantage point, this was a fatal flaw, and one of the reasons Nidhogg was once ridiculed by his people.
But it didn't matter; he didn't care about any of that, and he had a simple way to make up for it: if flying in the sky would reveal his weaknesses to the world, then he could simply walk on the earth. With each step he took, the sky trembled; with each step he landed, the earth shuddered and groaned. This was a privilege he alone possessed, a symbol of power and dominance, a realm unattainable by ordinary dragons. In the past, during the selection battles for the Dragon King, Nidhogg's favorite thing to do was stand on the ground, unwavering in his stance and with his unparalleled size, enduring all the enemy's attacks head-on, remaining unscathed. Only his enemies wore expressions of despair and resentment, as if facing an insurmountable mountain. Even with dragon wings, no matter how high they flew, this mountain would always be higher than them, always looming over their heads, because it too would grow, and grow faster than anyone else.
Nidhogg not only defeats his enemies but also revels in the gradual erosion of their arrogance and hubris. Only a few foes earn his respect, prompting him to take to the skies and assume his most powerful stance in battle. One such foe is the powerful monster he challenged in the vast snowfields of his youthful, ignorant self-destruction. Later, his wicked actions incurred the wrath of the goblins, who entrusted him with all their hopes and strength, and he became one of the heroes tasked with vanquishing him.
Of all his enemies, it seems that only Heraswalg remains unforgettable to him, or rather... he is obsessed with him.
The dragon skeleton, just awakened from its long slumber, moved sluggishly. It took nearly a minute for its ferocious claws to rise and fall, making its progress seem heavy and slow. But this was relative to its enormous size. When the entire abyss was shrouded in its shadow, one could no longer perceive the passage of time.
Each time the dragon flapped its wings, a distinct scar would be etched along the edge of its featherless wing bone, spreading out in a straight line, as if its goal was so firm that it never wavered.
The heavens are torn apart, the void is cleaved, and a giant dragon trapped in the past thousands of years is heading towards its end.
The skeletal dragon, consumed by obsession, could feel the colorless fire burning fiercely in his eye sockets. The power of anger and resentment was urging him to destroy, to annihilate, and to take revenge on those who had abandoned him, betrayed him, and cursed him. But Nidhogg had no interest in revenge. He struggled back to the human world from a void, not for such trivial matters, but to reclaim what he had lost.
In an instant, traversing vast distances, Nidhogg's advance brought with it a terrifying shadow and a frigid storm. At this moment, his eyes were fixed solely on his throne as Dragon King, paying no heed to the whispering insects within his heart, let alone the insignificant creatures on the ground. Thus, on the land he traversed, his dragon claws, hanging limply, swept across towering peaks, shattering burning cliffs; massive rocks crashed down, carving craters into the wasteland; the frigid storm extinguished all life, plundering the already scarce vitality of this land, causing wild beasts along the way to flee in terror and mournful cries.
Looking into the distance, the sky, almost at the same altitude as Nidhogg, was completely obscured by deep, dark clouds, forming heavy, sinister vortexes that created a suffocating sense of oppression. There was not a shred of light between heaven and earth. Was it because night had fallen early? Or was it that a force more terrifying than darkness was gradually replacing the laws of the real world?
"It seems..." The countess sighed helplessly, seeing that her brief hesitation had led the situation to an uncontrollable point. "I have no choice but to take action."
Nidhogg was indeed a dragon that ravaged the land of Atoliga, leaving the spirits of the paradise village of Assyria helpless and only able to be slain by a hero. But didn't Neville also have an illustrious background? The silver-eyed countess, the progenitor of the Bloodfang clan Valenhild, the most trusted partner and most reliable comrade-in-arms of Saint Neo, the grandmother of the young queen... well, the last one can be disregarded.
With the power of a demigod vampire, defeating Nidhogg would indeed be difficult, but if he could only slightly hinder him... he should have a chance of winning, right?
Having made up her mind, the Countess turned back and said, "Leticia, you and Serena stay here and protect Ling and Ovira. Leave the rest to me. Remember, no matter what happens, you are not allowed to come out to help without authorization, understand?"
Worried that her granddaughter might lose her temper because of her dangerous situation, she gave her a special reminder. In the past, Leticia would have definitely argued back, or agreed on the surface but acted on her own initiative, but now she wouldn't do such a childish thing, because many people—Ringer, Medine, Rorona, and Ovira—had already told her how to become a real adult, worthy of her companions' trust and expectations.
"Don't worry, Grandma," she said seriously, "I'll keep a close eye on them!"
“Very good.” Neville nodded in satisfaction, saying nothing more. She spread her pair of jet-black bat wings and leaped out of Nibelungen, her figure skimming over the dragon bones that grew like pale bushes, quickly disappearing from the sight of those inside the ship. Only when the countess's figure was completely out of sight did the werewolf girl turn her gaze away, glancing at the little bat beside her with a strange look.
"Leticia..."
"what happened?"
"I feel like...you've changed a lot."
"Because I've grown up."
"He still looks like a little kid."
"I mean psychologically!"
The somewhat childish conversation slightly dispelled the gloomy atmosphere in the control room, but the young man remained silent throughout, his gaze fixed on the face of the girl in his arms, watching her unconscious as if she had fallen into an eternal dream, peaceful and serene.
Hallucinations, illusions, dreams—everything that constitutes memory is an illusion.
……
Only when she faced Nidhogg directly could the Countess truly understand the despair a mortal feels when confronted with an abyss, endless mountains, or a boundless horizon. Each time the dragon's skeleton stepped onto the ground, it seemed to stir the blood within her chest, her bones and soul humming together. She was as insignificant as dust, yet she had to stop this moving mountain range.
"Tsk, what an unpleasant difference." Neville scoffed, her eyes sharp as knives. Once she made up her mind, she didn't hesitate. Her slender fingers traced lines in the air, manipulating the magic that permeated the atmosphere, gradually tinging it with a bewitching color. Like a rain of arrows, hundreds of condensed, tangible crimson blades instantly materialized, tearing through the air and shooting towards Nidhogg's seemingly vulnerable spots, such as the junction of his eye sockets and neck.
However, the rain of arrows, powerful enough to pierce steel, struck the pale skeleton, producing only a few insignificant sparks, leaving not even a scratch. The dragon skeleton continued its heavy yet resolute march towards Mount Platinum, ignoring Neville's attacks as if they were merely a gentle breeze brushing against the rocks.
Neville's eyes narrowed, and with a flick of her right wrist, she slashed across her left wrist without hesitation. Blood gushed forth as if it possessed a life of its own, rapidly coalescing and transforming in mid-air into a gigantic, clearly defined, dark red claw. Then, the Countess raised her left hand, and the claw, seemingly responding to her movement, with a force capable of tearing the earth apart, lunged at Nidhogg's forelimb joint, attempting to forcibly halt his advance with sheer power.
"boom--!"
The blood claws collided violently with the dragon bones, unleashing a dull thud. A powerful shockwave spread outwards, scattering rubble and dust from the ground. The blood claws successfully gripped the joints, applying immense pressure, causing Nidhogg's raised forelimb to momentarily freeze—almost imperceptibly, but that was all. The next moment, the dragon skeleton casually took a step forward, and the giant claws, imbued with the Countess's magic and blood, shattered like fragile glass, dissipating into a cloud of blood mist.
Two probing attacks were easily thwarted, and Neville fully understood that ordinary methods were meaningless before this skeleton, which carried ancient resentment and power. To say that its strength was enough to ignore the attack of a demigod vampire would be an exaggeration; however, the power Neville had displayed so far was not yet strong enough for it to feel that it "must respond."
"I've been completely underestimated."
Neville took a deep breath, knowing that without using her most powerful blood magic, she might not even be able to distract the arrogant dragon. She hovered high in the air, her enormous black bat wings fully unfurled, the membranes shimmering with a dark luster in the dim light, the tips of her wings precisely touching each other, tracing a perfect circle in the air.
Above the bat wings, within the circle, a bright, cool, and majestic silver full moon slowly rises.
No one can explain why the essence and mysteries of blood magic are linked to the moon, just as no one knows why vampires always claim to be nobles born of the moon, even though their origins have nothing to do with other races, but rather share a common ancestor with werewolves, whom they have always been hostile to. Only vampires who have crossed the demigod level and touched upon ancient memories know that the moon influences the tides of the human world, not only geographically but also mystically. For vampires, magic resides in their blood, and when the moon phases change and the tides of magic surge, it is also the time when the magic within them is most active.
During a perfect lunar phase, vampires can unleash power dozens of times greater than their own magical limit.
The most direct effect was that the moment the silver moon fully formed, the entire Dark Cloud Abyss seemed to be silenced. The howling storms, the dragons' footsteps, and even the wailing of space all fell silent at that moment. Only the silver moon floated quietly, casting its cold, watery light upon the vast, lifeless land below.
Nidhogg, who had been stubbornly forging ahead despite all distractions, slightly turned his empty eye sockets to meet the silver moon in the sky, a moon that should not exist in this world.
For the first time, its progress came to a noticeable halt.
The dragon's proud head even tilted back slightly, an almost imperceptible tilt—a wariness and scrutiny stemming from instinct, or perhaps from the depths of ancient memory. After all, in an era of rivalry among races, vampires were among the dragon's enemies; or rather, any flying race that sought to contend with the dragon for control of the heavens was an enemy, including vampires, winged elves, and even fairies.
Neville's face was pale; maintaining this silver moon was clearly extremely taxing, but a cold smile curled at the corner of her lips.
"Looks like you feel threatened too..."
Before she finished speaking, the Countess suddenly swung her arms forward, as if propelling the weight of the entire world. The silver moon, suspended within the wingtip ring, fell silently, obliterating everything. It seemed illusory, falling without a sound of wind, without any air currents, and without even affecting the outside world; yet it also seemed real, for wherever the moonlight passed, the poisonous fog, dust, and even sound and light that had permeated the Dark Cloud Abyss were completely purified and returned to nothingness.
A string suddenly tightened in his brain, emitting a piercing sound as if warning him of something. The dazed dragon skeleton sensed the impending danger and abruptly stopped its advance, its pale wings, now just empty bones, folded in front of it in a defensive posture.
The next moment, the silver moon silently collided with Nidhogg's dragon wings. (End of Chapter)