159 Tactical Retreat
Shammoth’s eyes widened in surprise while his ever-present smile stretched, “It seems my little outing has led me to discover quite the special one. Curious…”
Before another word could be exchanged, the draconic boy disappeared like a blur, bursting forward with new speed as Shammoth was forced to react.
“That’s more like it. Come at me with everything you’ve got, if you truly plan to live!” Shammoth told him.
Shifting his right forearm into a greatsword that was hardened by reinforced bone, the Viscount of Farmaya clashed against the sword wielded by Emilio.
“Oh, quite some strength you’re packing there…” Shammoth whispered to him amidst their clash.
“Nrgh…!” Emilio roared out.
As he pressed his foot down against the ground, the tiles of the pool began cracking before shattering beneath his step, exuding azure embers from his position before he managed to break through.
Shammoth slipped through the aggressive, wide slashes aimed for him, holding a smile the entire time before transforming his sword-turned arm into a giant whip of flesh that stretched out into the size of a tree.
“–!”
The speed it came out cracked the air, slamming against Emilio’s body with thunderous force that took the wind straight out of his lungs.
Sent flying back, he slammed straight into the walls of the vast pool, breaking the material as crumbled fiberglass rained down.
“You’ve got talent, but you’re sorely lacking in experience,” Shammoth told him, “Do you know what the most important talent of a mage is? It’s creativity.”
Both of the Viscount’s arms began to morph as he said as much to the Dragonheart boy, who was coughing up and slowly picking himself up from the harsh impact.
“Let me show you,” Shammoth insisted.
One of the man’s arms shifted into multiple segments that expanded and stretched out, taking the form of chattering mouths that repeatedly clamped their teeth. The other arm of his turned into an array of spiked, black chains that were connected like a net.
Emilio came to, groggy from the blow as he looked up, finding the faceless mouths stretching out towards him with the clamping of teeth sounding out, forcing him to jump up.
He narrowly avoided being latched onto by the dozen of clamping mouths, but one still grazed him as it shot by his shoulder, taking a light layer of flesh off in the process.
“Ghh–!”
As he sprinted around the perimeter around the pool while the transmogrified limbs of Shammoth chased him with their rapid clamping of teeth, he found another problem arising–
A shadow loomed over him as he looked up, finding the spiky net of chains closing in over him. There was no time to react; he was caught in a pincer attack by the mouths and the net, walking straight into the trap.
“–You’ll have to be more creative than that, child!” Shammoth yelled with a smile.
The net ensnared him before shrinking down to hold him tightly, causing the spikes to dig into him and pierce his flesh.
“Argh…!” Emilio let out in pain.
Before he could try to overpower it, Shammoth whipped his limb back, causing the net to be flung across the room before releasing, slamming the boy into the wall on the other side of the vast chamber.
Blood splattered onto the faded, yellow wallpaper from the dozens of small holes poked into his flesh upon collision with the solid surface.
“…Ngh…” Emilio groaned, sitting against the wall as crimson liquid seeped over his skin.
To the surprise of both the stranger and Melisande who was about to approach, Emilio picked himself up to his feet despite his wounds, holding himself upright with unknown vigor.
“Oh?” Shammoth watched.
In the head of the young man, he was hardly conscious by this point; through the blood loss and repeated trauma, he was hardly holding on, yet one singular desire drove the forefront of his mind:
“Kill the man in front of you.”
It was mostly out of necessity to survive and protect by this point; he knew what his own death represented and that it must not happen.
Due to this resolve, a new spell was born, forged from the azure flames that he continued to overlap and heat up, bringing them to greater heights as he etched them together with the essence of another spell.
It was inspiration; the ringing belittlement of Shammoth echoed in his ears.
What was born from his hazed mind was a counter to the stranger’s taunts as if saying “Here is your creativity.”
The temperature in the room skyrocketed, taking Shammoth by surprise as he watched in curious delight as heat waves gave off from the boy’s position, causing the wallpaper to peel and melt.
Azure embers manifested around him, gathering and coalescing as sparks dazzled before forming into goliaths of flame, shaping into a particular form.
Soon enough, their true form was clear; forged of bright-blue inferno, dragon heads, as large as boulders, surrounded Emilio.
“Dragonheart Hurricane.”
Shammoth seemed more delighted than frightened, but that joy only persisted for a moment as shock projected itself on his face–
The enormous dragon heads also manifested around the malignant stranger, breathing out all-burning flames that filled the pool in a bath of hell.
Though Shammoth managed to leap out from the sea of flames with some burns, he was quickly caught again:
“Count me surprised–”
Before the man could utter his depraved words, Emilio coldly gestured, signaling more dragon heads to appear around Shammoth, dousing him with the mystical inferno once more.
The brightness of the azure flames spread throughout the chamber, filling it with a light-blue hue as the roars of the chaotic element were heard.
This time, Shammoth landed on the ground with severe burn marks, still having azure flames eating away at his outfit as he stood there with a smile nonetheless.
“I see now. That’s who you are–there’s no mistaking the heat of those flames,” Shammoth said mysteriously, “–You’re quite the handful, Dragonheart boy.”