The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 732: Marcus's Cry, The Dragon's Roar

Marcus believed he had endured the worst of blows, most enemies unable to match the brute strength of his Lord's power, and took great pride in his half-dragon blood that granted him durability in scales and great violence in his claws and teeth. However, the sudden strike that shattered pieces of his scales off his shoulder proved his pride to be mistaken, the belief in his invincibility broken. It came faster than an arrow and rattled his brain in his skull upon contact, sending him flying and crashing onto the wall. At least his scales prevented the impact from crushing his back. Still, it spread a dull pain throughout his bones. Groaning, he snapped his eyes open, glared a draconic gleam in slitted pupils, and tumbled off the broken wall, landing on his knees.

He grinned a toothy smile, the dragon's blood pumping hot in his veins. He could feel the beast in him roaring in anger at the sordid state he had ended up in, but also an immense excitement for the battle ahead. Ever since training in the Brilliant Drake Empire, he felt a clearer connection to the dragon within, their emotions and goals syncing well. The Dragnars relied on a spiritual connection to the lingering intents of dragons emanating in the land, bearing a slight bit of their strength. Perhaps that was why the New Dawn had been attracted to that place. Indeed, he, too, was excited and stood firmly, sending a ravenous glare at the tall figure garbed in a black cloak, who held a great spear out, extending it fully to the side. The Ancestral Mark beamed an annoying light on the man's forehead.

"I like it. Cel Standavish, you're an incredible foe." Marcus wiped the blood off his shoulder and regrew a clean set of scales, unblemished and reflecting the light on his black sheen. When he had heard of the powers of this Divine Enforcer, his draconic instincts told him that they might meet. Tying back his blonde hair, Marcus inhaled and let out a tremendous roar, the world rippling and distorting as the violent cry quaked his surroundings. He stomped and stretched his wings back in a direct flight toward Cel, swinging his enlarged claw.

He heard a loud, clear succession of snaps as if a hammer struck a clean anvil sharply and rapidly. Cel thrust his spear, which was currently lacking the head and most of its shaft, simply a small stick of metal in his grip. Out of it, the rest of the spear extended out in a blur, faster than Marcus wished he could see. His grin turned into a grimace as he realized his strength was not on par against Cel's overwhelming spear. The claws on his hand cracked and broke apart, and he pulled back as it pierced his palm, the quick reaction saving the rest of his arm from being skewered.

'It broke through my scales so easily. My Lord, how did you match this man?' Marcus retreated several steps, but Cel chased, stabbing dozens of piercing blows in a second, the spearhead snapping in and out. The only evidence of its attacks existed in the fine, clean holes in the ground, the result of pure concentration of speed and power that only destroyed what lay in its path. Marcus rolled and sent out a flurry of his scales that Cel destroyed in an instant, his spear flowing like water in graceful technique, merely glancing past each scale in delicate motions.

'Speed, power, and technique. Since his body is also made of metal, I can't rule out a high durability. Good. Good.' As he assessed Cel's strength, his frown returned into a wide smile. The Lord had told him long ago not to lose himself and lead the others, so he elected to be the calm leader, though Santen usually was the calmest. Right now, as Cel's spear descended and shaved off more scales, and sharp platinum threads sliced the air in attempts to cut him, spun by the cubes floating and surrounding him, he saw his own blood dyeing the floor red and felt the urge, the hunger that drove his early days, to consume and devour until nothing else remained.

"Since our intel noted you as his right-hand man, I assumed you to be stronger. I'm disappointed. Even with dragon's blood in your veins, you are lacking." Cel grunted behind his mask.

Marcus flew up and spun, slashing his wings on several cubes. After freeing himself from the prison of threads, he made it back to the corner where Eve waited for him.

"Marcus!" Eve, covered in bandages, shouted in worry. Her blue eyes darted to his injuries.

Cel followed and stopped a short distance away, jabbing his spear on the ground and pointing it straight up as if waiting for them to make a move. Marcus couldn't help but praise the man's honor, never targeting Eve once during the fight. While he considered running away, he decided he would not let this powerful enemy run amok and ruin his Lord's plan. Looking up, he wondered if Auren had made it to the top and began to create the formation. Surely, the others would protect the young Seventh.

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"Eve. We must stop him here. Sorry, but you understand." Marcus brushed her bandaged head, and she nodded, standing up. She removed her bandages and let out the bed of dazzling blond hair that draped down her back. The years of inaction were great for her since they allowed her face to return to its former beauty, a gentle pair of eyes above a small nose and flat, thin lips on slightly supple cheeks and the look of a caring mother.

"The Lord won't be happy." Eve placed a finger on her cheek, and the flame seal their Lord placed on her appeared, unraveling and dissipating into a puff of red smoke. Flames burst and swallowed her whole, burning off the bandages and exposing her bare body, though most of it had become fire and barely holding to her figure except for the faint features on her face, even her hair whipping around in a great blaze. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, smiling as her flames, her entire being, merged into him.

Smoke fumed out of the gaps between his scales, his agonized screams released fire in each puff, and red swirls decorated his black scales and wings. The heat rippled and slowly melted the floor under his clawed feet, his wings scattering embers with every beat. Red filled his eyes, but he saw clearly.

…….

"Get away from her!" Marcus screamed and dashed ahead, but a straight punch blew away his scales and broke his ribs. Reeling from the pain, he grunted and reached out for Eve, her face burnt and full of blackened scars, lacking any hair. The intruder had slaughtered everyone outside, his mere steps frightening Marcus, who possessed a heightened sense of danger.

"Interesting." The man's voice was cold, which made Marcus shiver and wonder what sort of face was behind that helmet. "A brutish attempt at dragonification. Separating the body and the precious flames of the volcanic breed and merging them into children." He flipped through a pile of papers. "Experiment 76–" He referred to Marcus, "-the one mild success of integrating the dragon's blood and scales. And Experiment 76-B…the flames of the same dragon."

"Is it an instinct for you to protect her because she is your flame? Or is there a deeper connection from being imprisoned here since you were children? Well, metal and fire, not's that too different from myself." Shockingly, the man held out a palm and formed a spinning magnetic orb and a flame ball. "If you want to leave and live a different life, then go and live quietly. Though, I doubt it'd be quiet for that long. Or fight alongside me. I have need of some warriors."

Eve shrieked and wailed as smoke hissed out of her orifices, her tears evaporating as they leaked. She spat out flames and clutched her stomach. Flames sparked and charred more of her face. Marcus forced himself up past the pain of his broken ribs and hurried, hugging her in his arms, trying to stop it. But the fire spread and slowly burned parts of her clothing, searing grievous wounds on her skin. He always felt so helpless in these moments, unable to do anything for her.

"I see. It is as described here." The man crouched and tapped her cheek with a finger. Marcus was about to shout and force him away, but he stopped, stunned at the smoke receding and flames flickering away. A mark of a red flame, small as a coin, emerged on Eve's cheek, glowed, and absorbed the excess. Her cries ended, and she fell asleep, snoring gently with a rare peaceful look.

"How? How did you…." Marcus looked at the man who stood up, his height towering over everyone he knew. The New Dawn had no means of controlling her outbursts, yet this man had done it on a whim, a simple jab of a finger.

"What is your decision?" The man asked.

Marcus glanced at Eve, still awestruck by the calm sleeping figure in his arms. He gulped and made his decision, bowing his head. "I will serve you forever. Please don't take away what you have done. Let her rest."

"I'm above making threats for potential allies. But…betray me, and I will kill you and her. I am Draven." The man turned around and walked away. Marcus struggled on his feet but followed Draven, his new Lord, outside.

…….

Marcus flew in, laying a blazing trail behind him. He brandished his claws, flames swirling on the sharp edges, and roared a mighty cry, breathing out dense, red fire. Cel thrust his piercing spear forward, amplified by the power of the chain reactions of the Integration. The fire breath parted and diverged in two paths, severed by Cel's power, but Marcus's claw clanged a sharp ring against the spearhead. He gritted his teeth and found his footing, finally matching Cel's strength. Marcus swiped another claw and flung Cel away.

'As expected, his body is also pure metal.' Marcus held his trembling claw, seeing the faint cracks on the tips.

"I suppose you are worthy of your station. I admire it." Cel tore off his ragged cloak full of holes and tears. A thin armor covered his chest, while his arms and shoulders had no cover, exposing the lean crevices of his well-formed muscles. He cracked his neck and pointed his spear at Marcus, beckoning him forward, and Marcus complied, roaring in full flight.

'Hurry up, Auren!'