Chapter 397: I Just Love Weak Enemies
As the distance closed, Owen could now see the old black dragon lying in the newly excavated dragon lair, and he could feel its gaze filled with malice.
Unfortunately, this black dragon was too old. Its once mighty body, capable of shaking hills, was now nothing but skin and bones. Only the overgrown, grotesque exoskeleton and keratin layers maintained a semblance of its former glory. But its cloudy eyes, its breath reeking of decay, and the meager scattering of copper and silver coins in the lair, barely enough to maintain a facade of a dragon’s wealth, all pointed to the fact that this black dragon was at the end of its life, no longer able to uphold the dignity of its kind.
Seeing such a weak and decrepit enemy, Owen became excited. He loved enemies like this. So, he hoisted his iron rod, lifted his thick thighs, and let his heavy feet pound the ground with booming thuds as he charged towards his target, ready to pummel the elderly dragon.
Faced with the provocation of an ogre, the old black dragon couldn’t hold back either. It forced itself up, flapped its wings with effort, took flight, and landed not far from Owen, struggling to exhale a breath of fire that clearly lacked follow-through.
Black dragons aren’t the strongest among dragonkind. In fact, black dragons, preferring to dwell in swamps and caves, are far less robust than red dragons, and their breath attacks are not as grand or scorching as those of red dragons. A black dragon’s breath is more like the venomous spray of a viper, linear in shape. Occasionally, they deliberately disperse it into a mist to increase the area of effect. But because the lethality of a black dragon’s breath relies mainly on its corrosive properties, the more concentrated it is, the better the effect.
Unfortunately, this old black dragon’s feeble breath was akin to a weak stream of urine. While it didn’t land directly on its feet, it couldn’t be expected to reach far either, serving more as a gesture of intimidation.
But for an ogre, it was like winking at a blind man. He wasn’t a goblin to be frightened by such a small display. Even as the ground sizzled and smoked from the corrosive breath, he stepped on it without hesitation, only to slip and fall flat on his face.
Although this black dragon was old and frail, with only a few years left to live, it was still cunning. After all, it was a dragon that had lived for hundreds of years.
Despite its declining physical strength, the magic brewing within its draconic body had become increasingly potent, its techniques honed to perfection, and its experience vast. So, what appeared to be a weak breath of dragon fire was, in reality, a cleverly concealed Grease spell.
At this moment, the old black dragon’s eyes held not a trace of bluffing intimidation, only faint mockery and malice.
Seeing the ogre who dared to challenge its status fall, the old black dragon raised its head high and gently rubbed its claws. A spark instantly ignited the thick layer of grease spread by the Grease spell, engulfing Owen, who was covered in the flammable substance, in a blaze of fire. The dragon’s gesture was so elegant that it elicited cheers and praise from the countless goblins present.
Siluo, who had stealthily infiltrated the area, turned pale with anger. Did this idiot ogre know how much she had suffered, how much she had endured, to lure him here as a pawn? She had practically worn her treads thin, and now he was gone? What was the point of all her efforts?
Fortunately, Owen rose to his feet again, calmly patting the flames on his body. Finding that he couldn’t extinguish them, he didn’t care and continued his charge with his rod. However, this time, with each step, his feet sank deep into the ground, firmly anchoring him. No amount of grease would work now.
The ogre’s tenacity caught the old black dragon off guard. But in its long life, it had seen all kinds of opponents. It unleashed a barrage of spells, pinning Owen to the ground and bombarding him relentlessly. Siluo, watching from the sidelines, felt her heart rise and fall with anxiety, fearing that he would never get up again.
But Owen’s resilience surpassed both the old black dragon’s and Siluo’s expectations. Attacks that could have leveled a small town failed to break through his defenses. What was this ogre made of?!
If Owen knew their thoughts, he would surely tell them about his max-level Golden Bell Cover, his invulnerability to blades and fire.
The old black dragon began to panic. Although its magic was potent, its body was too old. Excessive use of magic was a considerable burden. Moreover, its injuries had never fully healed and were now worsening.
Owen keenly noticed the unusual pause in the old black dragon’s relentless attacks and reacted instantly.
“Blood Drain!” The intense red light representing the advanced Blood Drain spell enveloped him entirely. Owen’s already massive body swelled even further, his muscles bulging to their limits. He resembled a hulking, enraged version of the Hulk, his strength amplified to an unimaginable degree. Even Owen himself struggled to control it. With a single step, he launched himself into the air, traversing the magical bombardment in the blink of an eye and appearing before the old black dragon.
Neither side had anticipated this. But Owen’s ogre instincts took over. Since ogres were too lazy to think, they relied mostly on instinct. So, before Owen could even register what was happening, his rod had already swung through the air.
The old black dragon, previously engrossed in casting a spell with its neck outstretched, was struck squarely.
As a black dragon aged, its once simple bone spurs and horns would gradually develop additional exoskeletal layers and keratin, forming an extra layer of defense. Ordinary swords would only break against it. However, Owen’s iron rod was forged from a blend of black iron and wootz steel. While it fell short of being a legendary weapon, it was exceptionally sturdy, capable of deflecting most blades. Coupled with Owen’s currently amplified strength, the overgrown exoskeleton protecting the sides of the old black dragon’s head provided little resistance. The iron rod smashed through it, and the remaining force landed squarely on the dragon’s cheek.
The old black dragon’s few remaining teeth suffered significant casualties in this blow. At least seven or eight massive dragon teeth were dislodged from its gaping maw. Its entire head was whipped to the side by the immense force, leaving it dazed and disoriented. The sound its neck made was enough to make one’s teeth ache.
This black dragon was simply too old, reduced to a mere shell of its former self. Perhaps it could still bluff its way through encounters with its remaining breath, but after being shattered by Owen’s blow, its eyes rolled back, a foul-smelling gas escaped from its belly, and the old black dragon ceased to move.
The goblins, who had been cheering for their old master, saw that the black dragon was no more. They instantly dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves before Owen and acknowledging their new master.
The goblins’ seamless transition in allegiance left Owen momentarily stunned. It felt as if these goblins had always been his subordinates. Their actions were genuine, emanating from a place of true loyalty.
There was nothing strange about it. Goblins never cared who their master was. Whoever was stronger became their master. And as long as their master lived, they wouldn’t betray them. If their master died, they would naturally pledge allegiance to the new one. It was a simple matter of survival.
Therefore, after Owen refrained from slaughtering them, tacitly accepting their surrender, these goblins immediately raised their hands in cheers. They started a fire and prepared to curry favor with their new master with a feast of delicacies. However, Owen, disgusted, shooed them all away and then signaled with his eyes to Siluo, who had appeared at some point.
Seeing Owen’s gaze, Siluo, who had been shocked by the abrupt end of the battle, took a deep breath. Her ample bosom strained against her bearskin, revealing a glimpse of the abyss within, only to be concealed again as she exhaled, mirroring the surge and ebb of her anger.
Suppressing the urge to poison this idiotic ogre, Siluo began preparing dinner. After all, her dreams of becoming a Drow Matriarch still depended on him.
