Chapter 48 - Ranger's Specialty

"What the hell are you guys doing?" The vulnerable rangers that have been scared sh*tless without defense before the Infernal Tarrasque turned towards a sudden voice that called to them not too far away.

"A ranger's specialty is creating distance in battle, not to rely on tankers to protect your little asses! Get your sh*t together and move!" Colleen clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes in annoyance upon witnessing such a messy sight right when she arrived. Tankers were littered on the ground, bleeding from wounds that made them barely recognizable. She grumbled under her breath as she began to circle her beastly target. "Pathetic."

She was supposed to be in prison. Well, she was. But just not anymore. Of course, her best friend would never let her rot in there for the rest of her life, especially when she had done nothing worth being thrown behind bars for. The moment Blaze and Kingsley arrived, they freed her and gave a quick brief of the situation, enough for her to know exactly what she must do when she arrived.

Voices echoed after another in suspicion.

"Why is she here?" "Right. Wasn't she sent to prison?" "Idiots! Is that really important now? Move!"

The confused rangers wasted several moments of hesitation before they started after Colleen. But it seemed too late for them, as the dragon of abomination had already set its eyes on them, jaws wide open as fire threatened to shoot and roast them to their sizzling deaths.

"Hunters, attack now!"

Warchief Hastamvidé's commanding voice boomed through the top of the mountain. Immediately after, the silhouettes of hundreds of hunters pounced from the shadows towards the dragon into view, slicing their gleaming weapons from different angles across its humongous body.

"I hope we hit at least a few of those weak spots, else it would be forever before we can bring this thing down," Bolt muttered to himself as he observed the dragon's reaction from a nearby treetop.

Quite embarrassingly, the dragon didn't even flinch, not in the slightest. It merely glanced at the hunters even as they managed to inflict some wounds on its body. Bolt was certain all dragons had weak spots. Even if most of the Infernal Tarrasque's body was heavily protected by its carapace, the exposed limbs must have some sort of weakness.

Pain.

The creature was supposed to feel pain. But the dragon's reaction was a bit off. In Bolt's perspective, the dragon's reaction seemed elated rather than distressed by the hunters' attacks. Was it really unhurt?

He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched. He was uncertain. What were they to do next? Should they continue raining attacks on its limbs, or would he need to come up with something else? A heavily-protected dragon must not be used to pain, yet why could this one not feel anything?

The dragon wasn't going to wait. The dragon raised its massive, bear-like sharp claws and chased down the escaping rangers and-

Kwuuuooong-!!

A single figure flew from nowhere and threw himself under the dragon's paw, forcing it to an abrupt halt with his heavy-build anti-dragon shield pressing up against the rock-like flesh.

"We're not done yet, ya d*mned dragon! Ya haven't succeeded in defeating the tanker force, jerk!" Terry pushed all his weight full force against the dragon's claws, his arm muscles trembling, his feet digging deeper into the ground.

"Warchief Dyingstar!" "He single-handedly stopped the dragon!!!" "Look, he's starting to push it back!"

Hope was beginning to reflect on the dragon-slayers' expressions. But Bolt pressed his lips into a thin line, knowing it wasn't the case.

'Impressive… Truly impressive. But he is not pushing back the dragon. It is the dragon that is moving, and it is simply pulling back to attack again. Regrettably, I do not think the Warchief of the Earth Tribe will be able to survive a second direct hit.'

The dragon clenched its paw, the sharp claws curling in annoyance towards Warchief Dyingstar's effort to help the rangers escape. That hit was supposed to put an end to those obnoxious rangers in one fell swoop, but this one human had to get in the way. However, it was most startling and most disappointing that this single human was able to stop its attack.

Smoke puffed from the dragon's ears and nostrils as it turned its unending hostility to the lone tanker. The shadow of the dragon's paw shrouded over Terry Dyingstar, who stared up at what could be the cause of his demise with an exhilarated smile.

The Warchief let out a deep breath and rolled his stiffened shoulders back to relax. 'I just need to get my shield to the perfect angle to repel the force, right? At worst, I will be flattened and die. …but I don't have a choice. Yeah…yeah, it's worth a shot. It's not like my feet will let me run, anyway.' He prepared his stance and angled his shield that was two times bigger than his stout build.

"Quick, Terry! Drink this!"

Wave Clamory, the Warchief of the Tribe of Sea, finally appeared, and a sealed, transparent tube sailed through the air towards the Earth Tribe's Warchief. Terry spared only one glance at his breathless, fellow Warchief before he downed the chilly and smooth pink liquid without hesitation.

He had not yet even opened his mouth to ask what it was when all of a sudden, he felt his strength replenish. No, it was more than that. The liquid not only restored his full strength, but brought everything about him up a whole notch. Maybe even more.

'What is this potion? My body is surging with power! A potion that has both healing and boosting properties? This is new even for the greatest shaman in our faction,' Terry thought incredulously. He glanced up, a look of astonishment on his expression, and the Sea Tribe's Warchief returned a small smile. Quickly, Terry refocused on the upcoming attack.

'Luxurious cauldrons and valuable materials, all were drained to refine a potable elixir with at least thirty percent of the true essence of a dragon's properties. I hope it can show its worth. This is as far as a healer can do, Warchief Dyingstar.' Wave prayed as he waited for the nail-biting result.

SWOOOOOSH!

CLANG-!!

Warchief Terry rose his anti-dragon shield to block the forceful, pressing attack of the dragon's paw and braced for impact. A weight slammed down on his shoulders, and he could feel it to his bones as his feet plunged into the ground, coming to a full stop only when he was buried to the knees.

Terry had failed to reflect the attack as the dragon's paw was simply too big for him to discern the single point where most of the force was concentrated. Even with his newly found powers received with the help of the elixir he drank, he would still stand no chance against the might of a dragon. But he wasn't alone. Something had fortified his defenses to stop the attack.

"Are you even on our side, Cowser?!" Blaze berated. "It felt like you were not helping at all!" She was standing to Terry's left, sharing the weight under the anti-dragon shield. It was a blur, but she made it right on time, veins bulging abnormally all over her reddened skin.

From his right, Terry turned his head to his left to see who Blaze was talking to, just to see his struggling nephew standing with him – correction, barely standing with him.

"You…you must be kidding! I'm holding…up the shield…with the best…of my capabilities!" Kaiser managed to strangle the words out his throat. His limbs had gone numb, trembling violently from having to keep his arms up when the dragon's paw slammed down on them. Terry was not supposed to laugh, but his young nephew's face looked as if it were about to blow, tears escaping his bulging eyes. He looked like a pufferfish had swallowed a ticking time bomb.

"BAHAHAHAHAHA!" The Warchief blurted out loud, letting his whole heart out. But he was glad. He had never expected his silly nephew to work the guts to save him, successfully, nonetheless. And most of all, he had never expected that he would ever get along with Blaze, his cousin from his mother's side.