The dragon pulled out of its dive as Tristan got to his feet and took up a ready stance. The creature opened its mouth and let out an ear-shattering roar. But that only drove Tristan on, as he felt his blood practically boiling and his internal temperature increased from the backlash of the fire elementalism spell.
He ran a hand along the sword, "Feel the power I have claimed!" he shouted as he used Elemental Imbuement and his blade ignited with silver, black, and crimson fire that burst up in a billowing spire. The dragon was still flying overhead, flapping in place, and Tristan pushed Essence into his shirt to activate Hampering Growth.
The grass underneath the flapping dragon instantly shot skyward, wrapping around the creature and tugging it down. The dragon let out a yelp of surprise as it crashed downward, and Tristan did not hesitate for even a second. He dashed forward and jumped off of a rock, getting enough height to land on the dragon's shoulder.
The grass froze, pinning the creature in place as its body erupted with lightning that jolted Tristan. But his socks, that seemingly random artificed item he picked up Seasons ago, were active and they sucked the jolt away from his body. Tristan carved a deep gash, spreading flickering flames through the wound as the dragon let out a cry of anguish. He wrenched the blade free and slashed through the leathery, slightly-white wing – cutting a slash which would prevent it from flapping skyward.
The creature spung rapidly in place, and Tristan stabbed the sword down to keep his footing – but the blade was too sharp, and he had to let it go as it went flying off to the side. He had to shove his fingers into the wound he had already carved, and he could feel the sparking energy of the creature's lightning. Thankfully, the socks seemed to still be doing their job – but he had no clue how long that would last.
The dragon's spin had freed it from the frozen grass's grasp, and it began to roll. Something Tristan had trained for. He ran the opposite direction of the roll, muttering "The very weapons you use to rend and tear are mine to use!" as he cast Aspect of the dragon – claws. His gauntlets and hands within morphed to the sharp knife-like points of the creature's appendages, and as the roll came to a stop he tore gashes into the other wing.
The creature let out a roar and craned its head back. Tristan curled his finger-claws into a fist, slamming the fist into the hide. "Ich beschwöre eine-" he only got partway through the spell phrase for Frost Wall before his whole world went light-blue. He was sent flying backward, off the dragon's back and down onto a rock where he impacted with a thud.
He felt sore all through his body, and his feet were practically on fire. His armor was glowing and melted in some places, and as he pushed himself to his feet, he could feel the looseness in his greaves as the socks had been disintegrated. Must have been too much for it to take, he thought with dismay as the dragon spun around and slashed out with one of its massive foreclaws.
Tristan trusted his training and let his body move as he had been taught and how he had practiced. He ducked under the blow before running under the creature, baiting it to drop its hulking mass down – which it did as he expected. "Why would an apex predator ever change its tactics?" His grandfather's words never rang more true than they did now.
He spotted the sword, still flickering with flames that had spread to a patch of grass, and he snatched it as the dragon pulled its mass off the ground and spun once more to face Tristan. The howling wind and pumping of his blood through his head filled him with a sense of urgency, the burning in his legs and the little tremors he felt from the lingering lightning making him feel that desire to live. To fight. To consume this thing and get stronger.
"Kick its butt, Tristan!" Felicity shouted through the wind, her slightly shrill voice reaching his ears.
It's an adult, so I have about forty more seconds before it uses its breath weapon again. His grandfather's sword felt more comfortable in the now-dragon-claw grip, and he knew he would have to use a different combat style. One he had trained with, but not as extensively as his lightweight and thin blade. That one focused on weak points.
This behemoth was a chopper. The dragon swung a claw out towards him, and Tristan deftly stepped into the swing, dropping to a knee as he swung clean through several of the creature's clawed fingers. It roared out in pain before snapping down with its teeth – but stopped as Tristan just had to hold the flaming sword point-up to keep it at bay. The massive blade big enough to be seen, unlike his now-broken sword, which was so thin it could easily be missed.
Tsk, not going to impale yourself? Tristan felt his essence crucible at a bit under half capacity, and as the dragon pulled its head back, Tristan put his fingers in a ring shape in front of his mouth. He sucked in breath before exhaling as he incanted the spell phrase for Breath Weapon – minor. "The power I took from you is now mine to wield!"
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A torrent of fire burst out – silver intertwined with crimson and black. Right into the dragon's face and torso. The flames spread, eliciting a roar of pain and surprise as the scales charred and blackened from the intense heat. It bought Tristan a nice opening where he was able to jump up and unleash a vicious strike into the chest of the creature, leveraging his weight to pull the blade down and rip it free.
The dragon backed up and roared in pain as it spun its body and tried to slam its tail into Tristan. He held the blade flat, bracing his legs and putting his weight on the balls of his feet. The second the tail hit, he jumped and flipped over the appendage. Running in, he delivered a wicked chop that cleaved straight through the dragon's left foreleg, and it roared in pain as it collapsed onto that side.
Tristan turned, just a second too late, as he tried to get the sword in the way of the slavering mouth that chomped down on him. He felt pain lance through him as the teeth crunched down on the armor – but the crumple zones did their job and allowed him to wriggle down enough to avoid being crunched in half entirely.
He could feel the blood dripping down his body and was unsure if anything vital was damaged or not. The pain was dulled as his hunt-urge pushed him to kill. To consume. He reared his hand back and stabbed his claw into the massive eye that was as big as he was.
The creature whipped its head back, and Tristan pulled his claw back as the thing tried to slam him with its other foreclaw. But Tristan just retreated along the length of the body, drawing the flaming blade along the cut through the torso he had made before, carving the thing down the belly as he reached relative safety near the tail.
"Remember, dragons can take one hell of a beating, son. You need to get to that weak spot between the shoulders to put them down for good."
Tristan ran up the rock nearby and kicked off, jumping and turning midair as he brought the blade tip-down right into the joint between the shoulders. He felt the blade go down with relative ease as the dragon went limp and collapsed. Blood first! He thought as he ripped the blade out and tossed it aside to clatter onto the grass below.
Shoving his face into the gap he felt the warm, oozing blood surge up from the wound, gushing as he tried to suck down as much as he could. Gulping the ichor. It had a flavor that reminded him of strawberries harvested too early so that they were sour. And as he pulled back to get a breath, he could feel the buzzing in his stomach. Like he had eaten a hive full of bees. Push through! He shoved his face back into the hole and continued to drink the vital fluid until he was near bursting.
The crucible! He thought as he forced himself to his stomach, and then his knees. He could feel his whole body cramping and spasming; his muscles contorting and locking. It was a fight all on its own to get his hand-claws into the right gesture as he placed his palms together, finger-claws extended, and slowly shut them. "Mighty beast which now lays slain, I take from you what you can no longer use and is mine by right of conquest."
His crucible spun of its own accord, faster and faster. He saw the silvery glow outline the creature's body before it faded and sucked in to him.
Then the pain set in. He clutched his stomach and rolled onto his back as he saw stars behind his closed eyelids. Arcing lines of bright yellow and icy blue that flashed through his mind's eye as his gaze was drawn to his essence crucible. Or rather, what his mind perceived it to look like. A solid band formed around the spherical object, crackling with a bright yellow color with a center streak of sky blue.
He was still gasping for air when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looking up saw Felicity in her Elfanoid form wearing one of the packs with the rod on top. "You okay?" she asked.
Tristan pushed himself up, feeling the spasms a few more times and wincing in pain as his muscles locked up before loosening. "I'm…I'm good," he said as he wiped his mouth. "I look a mess, don't I?" he asked with a chuckle.
Felicity nodded, her face a mixture of worry, being impressed, and mildly irritated. She pushed him slightly, "If only you were so enthusiastic when you were using your mouth on me."
Tristan felt himself blush mightily and pushed her away playfully, "Note taken," he commented back. He looked around, "Sword?" he asked.
Felicity pointed down, and Tristan slid down the side of the beast as he grabbed the blade and sheathed it. Thankfully, the flames did not seem to have spread – instead they just smoldered in place on the grass. Must be because the Realm isn't receptive to fire…or something like that, he thought.
Eloise walked over along with some of the students who began looking at and prodding the dragon. She looked very impressed with a large smile on her face. "Well, dragonslayer, I think you've proven your lineage here."
Tristan chuckled, "Happy to show off." He winced as he felt the pain from his injuries, and still felt the slick hotness of his own blood going down his body inside the armor. "It's not all that thing's blood, though," he said as he collapsed to his butt and laid back on the grass.
Eloise frowned and looked back to the students, "Which of you is taking rejuvenation classes? Come on!"
Several students ran over and began chanting various spell phrases, using rejuvenation spells that cured Tristan's ailments. Felicity walked over to Tristan, "We going to harvest this thing like you did the demon dragon?"
Eloise shrugged, "Your kill, you get first dibs."
"I just want the scales – well a good number of them. Bones, claws, teeth, and hide. I don't mind splitting the spoils if they want to help," Tristan replied, standing up gesturing to the students.
Torvald walked over carrying the huge metal spike-essence umbrella, planting it near the dragon's corpse. "I don't know how to dissect a dragon."
Tristan smiled, "I do. I guess I get to teach something."
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