Chapter 82

Yomite, using his spare claymore, slashed through its barrier and scales, drawing fresh blood.

In a flash, the Dragon opened its mouth wide, the death beam vanishing from its jaws, and fell forward towards the platform.

It drew out the last bit of air-foam within its chest, squeezing it into a ball, rolling it up tightly with its long neck.

The Dragon inhaled, quivering as it did so, struggling to remain towards the edge of the platform.

Its body was utterly exhausted and injured, its shield completely destroyed, making it an easy and vulnerable target.

It was over.

Dvalin knew it. Death was coming. It could no longer do anything but pitifully groan in pain.

At least, all of its sufferings could finally come to an end.

It was at the mercy of its enemies.

Soon, peace would finally shine upon it.

Its enemies, however, had other thoughts in mind for it.

"Now's our chance! Honorary Knight Yomite! Remove the tainted blood clot on its neck, quickly!"

Jean spoke out in a hurry while cautiously eyeing the fallen Dragon.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group created a circle around it, their weapons drawn, ready to pounce upon the fallen beast at the slightest hints of any anomalies.

Yomite flew up to its back, using his wind glider, with the help of Venti's gust of playful wind and aimed his hands at the blood clot, which was the very core of Dvalin's pain and hatred.

(The whole fight, Dvalin prevented me from using it, while fending off multiple opponents...I've always said this, but while they are overrated and cliché, Dragons are still so cool and badass...)

Aiming his hands, invoking the power of the Tempus of The Particles, Yomite felt a sudden rush of energy course throughout his body, through his arms, traveling up to the tips of his fingers.

"Oh well, here we go again..." He muttered and focused on the sensation of power.

After about ten seconds or so, the cube was finally formed, in all of its beauty.

(I'll have to decrease its time...ten seconds is way too much...Enemies like Dvalin wouldn't give me as much as two seconds to breathe, much less focus on maintaining the cube.)

The ability was near godlike, yet so ineffective and inefficient in battle against intelligent opponents, it was almost unbelievable.

It really adhered to the notion of strong abilities having equally staggering repercussions.

His body was strong, but his equipment was severely lacking.

His skills were powerful, yet there was a tremendous space to improve and learn how to use them well and efficiently.

He had to find a way to implement everything in his arsenal and combine it harmoniously.

A good equipment, a smooth battle sense, a way for him to utilize his body to the fullest and its abilities to its utmost capacity and potential would be enough to deal with pretty much any obstacle he would be facing in the future, in this land of Teyvat, and that too with relative ease.

But then again, it hadn't even been a week since he came to this world, and it was only recently that he got to use his abilities for the first time, so that would fix itself with time and training, naturally.

He just needed to put the appropriate amount of effort and concentration into his training and utilization of his abilities.

Having decided about his future course of actions, without thinking any further, he projected the cube forward towards the blood clot, travelling a bit, it soon entered inside the clot bypassing its surpass as if it didn't even exist.

A blinding spectrum of multicolored lights flared into existence in front of him, making him squint his eyes to concentrate on the scenery in front of him.

The clot shined brightly, illuminated in the said spectrum of innumerable shades of light, glowing and pulsing for a few seconds then an iridescent glow encapsulated the whole clot in white.

Once the glow died and the light faded, the blood clot was gone, disintegrated from existence and in its place remained Dvalin's azure colored scales slightly charred and bloodied, due to the expulsion of the accursed clot.

(Mission finally fucking accomplished.) Yomite thought with triumph, a grin etching on his tired face. They had finally done it.

There was no longer anything, that was chaining Dvalin down.

It was finally free, from the pain, from the control of others.

However, once the blood clot was removed, something unthinkable happened...

Cracks started forming and spreading all over its body.

One by one, each and every scale on Dvalin's body started cracking, multiple fissures rippling throughout its whole body.

Everyone stared in wonder and confusion at the phenomena transpiring before their eyes.

Venti, the useless God, was afraid something bad was about to happen to Dvalin, his oldest friend, however, just as he was about to panic, he realized that might have not necessarily been the case.

He had heard about it from legends, in the olden days long before he had become the Archon of Wind, but despite being as much as two millennia old and even more, this was the first time he saw it happen with his own eyes.

A dragon shedding its scales and its external flesh, leaving its husk behind.

Leaving its mortal body and finally ascending to divinity.

Yomite frowned at the sight before him and slowly stepped away from Dvalin's back, jumping down from its back he returned to his group, "So...is everything alright? Venti? Are we done here? This...surely isn't another stage or something, right? Like some secret ghost form??? We...won, right?"

Still hesitant and confused about the changes the Sovereign of the Skies was going through, he decided to ask Venti about it, hoping that the God, even though useless, would be knowledgeable enough to at least gleam on what was now transpiring.

However, he didn't get a direct answer. In fact, it wasn't even a answer remotely close to his queries.

"It's beautiful."