Becoming the Strongest Through (Draconic) Racism - Chapter 9 (Patreon)

Grendel, Crime Force Dragon POV:

Grendel lunged forward without another word, only his grin etched on his face, as he threw an earth shattering punch.

Unlike what the Evil Dragon expected a swordsman, with such a cumbersome blade to do, the Dragon Slayer didn't try to gain distance. He didn't try to defend, or meet his attack to test strength against strength.

The young man dash forward, sword pulled back while he ran, almost like he was planning to headbutt Grendel's fist.

Only for Caleb at the last second to jump, wind bursting from his legs to change his trajectory and to make him vault over, somersaulting over Grendel's fist, and the momentum of his wind dash let him lunge forward swinging his sword, while upside down.

Grendel's eyes widened at his saw the red sword coming right at his eyeballs. He pivoted, using speed that belied his mass, to jump to the side away from the blow. Even with his Dragon Slaying Resistance (near immunity as Grendel would like to brag), that didn't mean he wanted to take a holy dragon slaying sword to the face.

And Grendel was right for that instinctive dodge, as a blazing red laser was fired upon the Dragon Slayer's completed swing.

Grendel felt a line from his snout to his cheek. The red greatsword did reach him.

Oh. He scratched me. It just didn't do much.

But the sword did reach him.

Grendel savagely grinned.

Caleb didn't pause, the moment he completed the body flip, landing on the ground he exploded into motion again, going right for the dragon's neck.

"First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!" Caleb cried out as he spun as he lunged forward. Green wind following him as he seemed to transform into a tornado aiming at Grendel's head.

Grendel immediately raised his arms like a boxer's high guard, except he had to forced his arms together, completely covering his chest and face.

BAAM!

Grandel found his large body pushed back, feet leave a trail from where they were dug into the ground.

"That... I FELT THAT!" Grendel shouted as he grinned. His arms actually shook from that blow. His chest expanded with his breath, as he pulled both arms back in excitement, deciding to answer back with equal, nay, greater ferocity. "You can dish it out. Let's see how you can take it!"

Bloodlust exploded out of the Evil Dragon's frame. Savagery and malice so thick he was solid energy, as it coursed back poured into his body, moving through his limbs.

"...What the fu—"

"Hundred Devastations!" Like a gun going off, Grendel's arms moved.

Punches slammed into Caleb, no, into the whole of the area that he was standing in.

BRAAAM! BRAAAM! BRAAAM!

Attacks made without thought other than pure destruction. Aim, accuracy, precision, none of it mattered. Grendel's fist fell like rain with the power to cause earthquakes as the Berserker Dragon of Great Sin unleashed his power.

The force of his punches were amplified as he increased the kinetic energy he unleashed with each hit. Making a single punch have the power of ten, when even his normal punch could crack a mountain.

The ground ruptured and shattered. The region began to quake under the force of Grendel's assault.

By the time Grendel's attack was done, the Tepes Castle was no more than rumble and dust that floated along the area.

"HAHAHAHA! Don't tell me that's all it took." Grendel laughed out loud once he was done, and stepped back to see his handy work. He didn't see or notice the Dragon Slayer's reaction, as he was to tunnel focused on his own enjoyment of slaughter. "Huh?"

As the dust began to clear, Grendel's gasped in shock as he saw his enemy not just alive, but in one piece, not even injured in any significant way.

Caleb was panting, grimacing in pain that rippled through his body every once in a while, but he was holding his greatsword in front of him like a shield.

"Heh..." Only now that he paused, Grendel could feel his hands shaking with phantom pain coming from his fingers. He looked at his hands to see his knuckles scraped like he had been punching some immovable object for hours. "Hehahahahahaha! You actually stopped that? HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He threw his head back and laughed further.

"You!" Caleb's disbelieving voice caught the Evil Dragon, making him pause to see if the human would react with fear and beg for his life or not? Those were always fun to see. "That malice... that negative energy you, it's... it just felt like..."

Oh! That's what he noticed. Grendel's eyes widened in glee. That reaction, this is the first time he properly fought an Evil Dragon. Guess I should do the responsible thing and explain. Oooooh, this gonna be fun!

"Yeah," Grendel spread his arms in a mock welcoming gesture. "Exactly like the malice of the world!" He opened his mouth, even though he didn't need to, and suck in air.

Except it wasn't really air, rather he was gathering all the negative energy in the area. Gathering into a single point, compressing, and then chomped his mouth close as if eating it, as he absorbed it.

The energy pulsed and assimilated into his body, making the negative energy he exuded increase, along with healing his scraps, scratches, and bruises in a matter of seconds.

"You... devoured the negative energy of the world. Made it a part of you till..." Caleb started, horrified at the realization.

So Grendel graciously continued for him.

"Till we make it a part of ourselves, that we generate it." Grendel said, his teeth showing like a bloody shark grin. "What? Did you think we were labelled Evil Dragons just because we're violent? Just because we're vicious and fight a lot without thought or end? Hahahahahah, no. That is just what a normal Dragon is. Any Dragon worth their being loves to fight."

"..." Caleb grew quiet, glaring at Grendel, who mistook his calm for seething resignation.

"If Dragons are masses of power that coalesced into a single form and took shape, then we are the ones who absorbed the malice of the world, integrate it to the point where we are part of that malice. We exude and generate it like a self-perpetual motion machine.

"For as long as their malice in the world, we can regenerate and eventually revive endlessly. And as long as we exist, we create and pour that malice out into the world. That is what is what an Evil Dragon is, what it means to become an Evil Dragon." Grendel finished with a savage smirk. "Do you see now Dragon Slayer, how futile it is to fight us? How all your efforts are worth nothing!" He cried out with a laugh. "I'm impress that you stopped that attack of mine once.

"I once pulverized some Reincarnated Hero with it. To the point that he was mince meat long before I was done. Didn't even realize he was dead I was having so much fun." Grendel tilted his head, like a cat playing with it's prey. "You on the other hand didn't break. I like toys that don't break. Buuut... I bet you can't do that defensive move again."

Suddenly the sky was lit with a huge magic circle. It was large and wide enough to overlap the whole of the Vampire Faction's locations.

"What the fuck is that!?" Caleb shouted.

"Aži Dahāka." Grendel grunted before snorting. "Looks like he's gathering up all the newly made Evil Dragons. Can't have the fodder killed before they are used." He said as the mass teleportation spell started to target and warp all Evil Dragons away to Qlippoth's headquarters in their hidden dimension in the Underworld.

Grendel looked at Caleb, expecting the Dragon Slayer to be angry, conflicted, or full of despair that all his efforts were for nothing. That uncovering Rizevim's plot lead nowhere.

Only to find Caleb looking at the spell with an intensity Grendel had only seen in the Diabolism Thousand Dragon examining a new spell.

"So," Grendel spoke to move things along, making Caleb snap his head to focus again on the Beowolf's infamous enemy. "Are you going to continue?" He grinned. "Are you ready to die, knowing you accomplished nothing?"

And in response Caleb did something Grendel didn't expect.

He laughed.

Caleb laughed and laughed and laughed.

Even the Crime Force Dragon felt thrown off by the reaction.

Then he was on guard as pure killing intent exploded out of the Dragon Slayer. Hatred that even Grendel felt rivaled his own malice—even far surpass it—that sent a shiver down his spine.

"You said earlier that I won't be able to defend against your attack a second time." Caleb's had a murderous grin that almost seemed to mirror Grendel's own. "That's not a defensive move. I just repurposed it as such."

"Oh really?" Grendel cried out in excitement.

"Yeah," Caleb held his sword up as it exploded with red energy that engulfed it. Hatred made manifest and transformed into Dragon Slaying Aura. The ultimate test against Grendel's resistance. "Try your best to survive." He said returning Grendel's mocking sentiment back at him. "Shoot Style: Hundred Slashing Heads!"

Caleb swung down.

Grendel raised his arms once more, his instincts screaming at him to block what's to come.

One moment passed.

Then a hundred dragon slaying slashes slammed into the Crime Force Dragon's body.

===x===

"Shoot Style,"

I thought my hate, my wrath would be contained mostly toward Great Red.

I elan rushed through my body, pouring, rushing into my limbs like water allowed to rush through pipes at full throttle.

One swing.

Seven swings.

Twenty three swings.

Faster, faster and faster, my arms moved. My whole body was in motion. Adrenaline numbing everything, a strange cool covered my body as I attacked.

Turns out, there were still things in this world worthy of my hate. And of course it had to be FUCKING DRAGONS!

My arms kept moving. I activated the Holy Cross Blessing while pushing my body to the boundary of my capability.

Fifty seven swings.

Eighty three swings.

Just like Grendel I attacked with ferocity, but unlike him I didn't focus on the fight and enjoyment. I focused on my target.

"Hundred Slashing Heads!" I declared.

In the next moment all those slashes bombarded Grendel's body while he tried to defend himself.

Grendel was launched back, still holding his guarding pose. He broke through two hills nearby, before he stopped.

The moment I stopped moving, I felt the coldness cover my body give way to heat, then to deep muscle ache. The type that comes from exercising too much in too short of a time, and end up pulling something.

The ache lasted for a few seconds before it all vanished as the Blessing of the Holy Cross absorbed the ambient negative energy, even that produced by Grendel, and healed my body.

Idly the thought came that I should give the blessing a name. Something to distinguish it from the other blessings when they come, rather than 'Blessing of...' et cetera.

Well, I named my Sacred Gear after a narrative structure of a Sky God or a Hero defeating a Dragon. Might as well name my blessings after narrative tropes.

The answer came to me near instantly.

Heroic Second Wind.

Because that's what the Holy Cross Blessing does. It ensures I'm always able to get up and kept fighting.

And against Evil Dragons like Grendel, well...

He might have bragged about being a self-perpetual motion machine, but for me, he might as well be an endless healing spring that ensures I will inevitably slay him. As long as I overcome any potential pain.

And pain is an ignored lover for me at this point.

As I closed in on Grendel's location I heard him laughing, seemingly reveling in his injuries.

I focused on the mass teleportation spell, watching as it targeted the numerous Evil Dragons with pin point accuracy. Odds are it's focusing on things picking anything draconic and creating negative energy and tagging it for transport.

The inner workings of the spell seem difficult to see into. with my magic senses, but for Elan Vital it becomes a bit more clear by viewing what the energy directly is doing. It is that, which allowed me to notice the distinction in having different senses.

One for magic energy and one for my own life force, and through that to life force in the environment and then energy interactions themselves, but it all feels kinda like noise with only one or two words slipping in that I understand.

I can see the magical links the spell does, then the folding of space around the Evil Dragons and then moving them away. I couldn't follow their signature to their destination.

Watching space fold without seeing the inner mechanisms was like watching a car crash. It was seeing the steel and plastic bend and crumble from impact, but not physically seeing the kinetic energy and inertial force acting on the car.

If I had time to study it, I think I could figure it out, but I don't think I'll get a chance.

Grendel started to get up. His energy rushing rapidly through his limbs in a way that prickled at my mind, that this is suppose to feel familiar.

"Ah." I made a sound of realization, as my mind flashed to Beithir turning red. "He's about to do that, isn't he?"

The dragon's body was littered with actual bleeding cuts and wounds now. The first real damage he took this entire battle, yet he hardly seem affected. He only seemed more elated.

Grendel. He can turn his bloodlust, his own negative energy into further kinetic energy to add to his own motion.

If he learned to manipulate that he could have had a terrifying defensive ability. And if he then further learned to manipulate kinetic energy itself, he could have been this world's Accelerator from ToAru.

Thankfully he doesn't seem to have the brains, or the patience to get that far.

"Hehahahahaha! Tell me," Grendel stood up, taking a stance as he planted feet firmly, causing the ground to crack and shake. "Do you know why I'm called the Crime Force Dragon?"

"You can use your own malice and ill intent to hit harder." I said plainly. "I know."

"And do you know what is the strongest state all Dragons instinctively know how to achieve?" Grendel said through blood falling down his face.

I knew, and rather than try to defend or find a way around it, I simply decided to push forward.

"Bring it," I gestured to him with a hand.

It was time to break my limits. Literally in this case. It would hurt. My body will take damage even if Grendel never gets the chance to land a hit on him. Heroic Second Wind will have to take on all the burden, and even Grendel's malice before he can use it, if I have to.

"Outrage Mode." Grendel shouted dramatically.

His body released energy like a nuclear reactor going critical.

The difference between him and Beithir is night and day. I idly noted.

Where as Beither's energy leaked out of him turning his skin red from the heat pulsing out of him, Grendel's body turned harder like gaining a coat of iron.

His muscles and limbs tightening, gaining a sharpness to them like steel. As if his body was transforming into a mass of claws. Energy was leaking from those extra claws turning red and sparking with crimson arcs of energy.

His tail split into two, both turning red and gaining spikes and flashing red lightning arcs along it's length. And his horns were his biggest difference...

Actually, wait. It's his horns. All of it.

Grendel's horns have have grown turned red, made spikes and released electrical sparks along its length.

But then the horns didn't just grow upward. They grew downward two, like thorns covering his arms legs and ending next to his tail to make it seem like he split his own tail into two.

His body seemed more like armor leaking radioactive malice. The land around him died and cracked. As if the more he stood around, the more life around him was poisoned and perished.

"Fucking dragon! You literally made your existence a blight on the world." I seethed.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! THEN COME END THIS BLIGHT, DRAGON SLAYER!" Grendel laughed and challenged.

He crouched down, like a sprinter's runner and prepared himself.

My knuckled whitened from how hard I gripped Chaoskampf Ordrained's hilt. Elan poured through all my body and limbs, holding it tight not letting any leak.

The damage I did to him was largely due physical force, not my dragon slaying aura. I need to focus it. Concentrate it, so it would bypass right through his resistance like it's not there. Condense and compress till it rips him apart from the inside.

A beat of silence passed.

I saw a flash of Grendel appearing behind me before he moved.

The Evil Dragon blasted forward, his movement breaking the world, with how loud the force of his dash was.

I was already twisting around, sword mid-swing. No thought. No question, only action.

"Fourth Form," I swung down. "Rising Dust Storm." A cyclone of wind energy exploded upward blocking the first attack redirecting it away from me.

I didn't go immediately for the Hundred Slashes because the first attack was meant to be a feint. To make me overcommit.

Annoyingly, Grendel's fighting instincts are pretty top notch. He realized once I commit to Heracle's attack I can't stop.

Just like him and his attack.

Thus the first feint.

Then as I spun, Grendel rushed around with hypersonic speed. The sonic boom hitting me from how close he was, and immediately ignored.

"Shoot Style," I met his eyes, hidden behind his new new face plate made from his spikes and horns. His bloodied teeth was the most notable part of his face. He was grinning.

"Berserk Shattering." He cried out, and even with the first punch thrown forward, I saw cracks minutely forming and spreading along his body.

He was breaking his body to deliver a stronger blow.

How dare this piece of filth be so alike to me!

"Thousand Slashing Heads!"

I swung once, twice, dozens, and fifty forward in between moments.

BOOM!

Every one of his punches was met head on. Ten sword strikes met every single fist. Directly blocking, directly meeting his attack head on.

Every one of his punches felt like it hit ten times harder in Outrage Mode, than they did in his normal base form.

Time seemed to stretch forward, as clashed in-between seconds. The air exploding around us before it even realized we had moved on to another clash.

Condense and compress. Condense and compress.

Every clash I released a beam of Dragon Slash Aura, refilled my scarlet sword and did it again.

I had to improve it. I had to refine, concentrate and purify my Dragon Slaying Aura even more.

My wrath can't be expended so thriftlessly. I don't know how long I can burn this fuel in my heart...

He was laughing. The Evil Dragon, in the midst of this life and death struggle where a single mistake would end me, was enjoying himself. Pleasure blooming in his aura at the sheer joy of fighting me, of me inflicting pain upon him, and not dying immediately.

The memory of his Outrage activating killing the land, corrupting the world around him, returned to me.

HOW DARE THIS FUCKING LIZARD!

The bones in my arms cracked.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" I roared.

A dozen. Twenty. Thirty slashes met each of Grendel's fists.

Cracks spread to my shoulders, and to my rib cage. My arm bones broke.

Heroic Second Wind devoured the negative energy and pushed back the damage instantly.

Fifty slashes met Grendel's punches.

The scratches becoming cut.

The cuts becoming wider cuts.

The bigger cuts becoming gashes.

The gashes leading to cuts through the muscles and bone.

Eighty slashes met each of Grendel's fists.

The Evil Dragon's body was starting to shatter faster from my attacks, than his own movement.

A hundred—

Abruptly the world stopped. The momentum slammed into my body as it was foribley halted, and I felt my arms, bones and muscles completely rip apart, blood exploding out of the gashes in my arms and shoulders from the forced stop.

No. My sword was stopped.

"Hooo, that did hurt." A human figure stood between me and Grendel. My greatsword held in one hand, while both of Grendel's hacked up, bloodied fists held in the other. "You are strong." The figure grinned.

This figure's presence reminded me of my plan with Walburga, what I asked her to do.

===x===

A While Ago

Walburga Crowley POV:

"Walburga, I need a favor."

The holder of the Holy Cross hummed a lullaby, as she walked around Qlippoth's headquarter.

"I want you to betray me."

Purple flames sparked around her, licking the floor with every skipped step she took. She giggled as she remembered Caleb's 'favor'.

"You have contact with Qlippoth Faction, right? Rizevim's group, can you get into it and get in contact with one of the Evil Dragon leaders."

He was an interesting guy, that new Longinus wielder Satanael brought.

Walburga's shoulders felt lighter.

It is said that Holy Relics can cause mental instability in it's wielders due to interference between the user's mind and that of God's remnant Divine Will.

The Purple Flames Witch wasn't really sure about that. Her thinking didn't change. Her thoughts and opinions hadn't either. Even her emotions at their core weren't different but...

Maybe she could say she had a new perspective.

Caleb was going to destroy the world. Walburga wondered if he understood that, or that, that's why she gravitated toward him. Why she felt like helping and having fun with him.

Maybe he doesn't realize what his actions mean or would result in? That his pursuit would have him clash with all the factions in power right now?

Anything is better than his dirty world that acts like its so pristine.

Apocalypse. Maybe that's what the world needs.

Everyone lives in this illusion of safety, sanity and peace never realizing how fragile it all is.

Walburga made a bubble of purple flames, held it in her hands as she caressed it gently.

Then she crushed it, making it burst out in flames before she snuffed her fires.

"Aži Dahāka or Apophis. Approach either on alone and tell them who I am. Not that I'm a Dragon Slayer, but which Dragon I'm meant to slay. Hmm, between Aži Dahāka or Apophis, hmm... Let's go with Aži Dahāka if you can manage it. Either one of them is arrogant or greedy enough to try and fight me alone."

Walburga smiled as she remembered that conversation. Caleb might act or see himself as a noble avenging knight. But he was more like her or Satanael than he might admit. He was a schemer in his own ways.

But if things go Caleb planned... Maybe the world will break in a kinder way. The rebuilding would be easier.

She paused in her tracks. Her past flashing before her eyes. Before Hexennacht, before Incinerate Anthem, before her former master, Augusta, and before the Wizards of Oz.

There was her mom. The Scowling Woman.

A woman who wanted love through power and beauty.

Walburga chuckled and shook her head.

People can be so delusional.

She looked up upon seeing her target in sight.

"Hmm? Incinerate Anthem, you sought me out. What do you want with me, human?" He divined her intention instantly.

Walburga grinned.

Maybe this prank is a little mean, but it wouldn't be a real betrayal otherwise, Cally~. Walburga thought. Either you'll survive and grow even more than imagined or... well, perishing might be better before I actually feel anything strong for you. A witch's love is quite the corrosive thing, you know.

She should know. Her birth was the consequence of that after all.

"Hello, Big Brother." Walburga said with a childish tone, an image of innocence ruined by her malicious smirk. "Would you like to learn a secret~?"

===x===

"Y-You..." Grendel shouted in disbelief, yet his voice did nothing to hide his fear. "What are you doing here? This is my fight!" The Evil Dragon started shouting, almost whining in dread that his glorious battle would be denied. "You can't interfere! This is not fair!"

"And yet I will," The man—No. Dragon in human form grinned at me. "This is an opponent far too enjoyable to be wasted on the likes of you, Grendel." The dragon pushed his hand holding Grendel's fists back.

It as a small action, yet the force of it, launched Grendel away with a sonic boom and made the dragon's streaks of black and blonde hair flutter in the air.

Grendel thrown back was caught by the teleportation circle, and sent to Qlippoth's headquarter, along with the other Evil Dragons. Whom I now notice have all been transported away.

Yet all my focus was on those gold and black eyes focused on me, with savage delight and excited anticipation.

"Now," he spoke, "let's enjoy this battle to the death, Great Red's Destined Slayer." Said Crom Cruach, the Crescent Circle Dragon.

Walburga, I'm going to kick the shit outta your ass for this 'teehee~' prank if I survive this. THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN!

===x===

??? POV:

Sometimes he wondered if he could still remember heat, or if the memory of that was an illusion.

He didn't know how long he had spent in this god forsaken prison. The coldness of this place had a way of stripping the idea of time from his head.

In a way, the pain was the least of his worries. The worst was that he was alone with nothing but his thoughts, and he wasn't sure if I wanted that to end, given the limited amount of company he could have.

He didn't want to hear Azazel's worthless prattling again. Or his bragging about how well 'peace' was going.

Against all odds though, his solitude doesn't last. He wasn't sure if that's something he cares for.

Either it's another visit from his accursed former leader that he lost faith in. Or some worthless schemer thinking to use him.

Kokabiel didn't know which was worse.

"You seem to have landed yourself in quite the situation this time." An old familiar voice spoke to him.

The Fallen Angel of the Stars blinked before moving his eyes through the ice to look beyond it.

"Of all people... Satanael, is that you?" Kokabiel projected his voice through the ice. An act that pained him as his prison zapped him of that energy, only allowing him to use it in order to communicate. "I didn't expect you to still be alive... or for you to visit me."

Effectively, his visitation hours depended on his own power, and how long it takes to recover before he could 'talk' again.

"I live as you can see, and as for visiting, well, I'm afraid I've been too busy to have come sooner." Satanael smiled. "I apologize for that."

"Still trying to evolve Sacred Gear to help those worthless humans?" Kokabiel sneered. His voice showing his emotions clearly even while frozen as a statue.

"Succeeded in fact." Satanael preened. "Part of why I came here."

"You came to gloat that your endeavor won while mine failed." Kokabiel scoffed. "Fine. Go ahead and gloat all you want, but it doesn't change that those humans are still not worth saving. Not worth anything, only us, only the Fallen are the greatest race!" Kokabiel cried out. "In the end, they'll all disappoint you. They'll turn on you. You know that, right?" Something that could be misconstrued as concern went into that last question.

"Yes, I know that, that's your stance." Satanael nodded. "I heard that you revealed the truth about Father to those children you fought."

"Hahaha! Yeah." Kokabiel laughed. "You should have seen their reactions. Those so called believers lost all will to fight. Couldn't even uphold a single one of God's tenants. They had no true faith. Pathetically disappointing as always. As expected. Even the devils were shocked enough to lose the will to fight for a while."

"Yes, bullying children really does show you grandiosity compared to their meager willpower." Satanael nodded.

"BAH! I hate when you talk like that, as if you're actually sympathizing with those faithless brats or those devils. Just say what you mean already!" Kokabiel cried out, irritated.

"Very well," Satanael nodded and met Kokabiel's eyes. "That secret that you told them shattered their wills because it broke their worldview. I wonder..." Suddenly the imprisoned Cadre felt an odd sense a dread. "If I were to tell you a secret of similar or greater magnitude, would you fair better than them?"

Satanael spoke and Kokabiel quietly listened.

Later on, in the deepest layer of the Underworld, where the River of Lamentations lie and was used as a prison for being too powerful and too unruly, Cocytus echoed with the crying screams of a Fallen Angel.

Screams that turned from grief to anger, for a Fallen Angel was given a righteous cause for both.