Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1446 Is there no such thing as pride?
The erupting magic once again formed a tide of blood, sweeping across the world like a twilight descending. But this power was not aimed at Nidhogg; instead, it surged through the torn canyons and shattered mountains, the endless flow acting as a barrier, keeping the beasts at bay. At the same time, the pale dragon skeleton slowly turned its head, fixing its gaze on the uninvited guests. The decaying bones and melting flesh seemed to magically construct its voice, allowing one to imagine its deep, angry, and unruly attitude, just as the black dragon of many years ago roared at the chattering spectators outside the dueling arena, silencing them from the duel.

Yes, this is a duel.

Therefore, it is enough for the two duelists to stand on this stage.

Those who are not involved will simply become spectators. Victory and defeat have nothing to do with you. The winners won not because of your cheers, and the losers will not lose their faith because of your contempt.

Only the Countess, at the last moment, understood Nidhogg's subtext through the young man's message and Princess Beman's reminder. Although she still had doubts, such as what was the point of insisting on the rules of dueling under these circumstances? Or did a dragon that had been resurrected and was in a daze really still have any obsession with the so-called duel? But based on her trust in her companions, she made up her mind at the last moment. Instead of fighting against the dragon skeleton with the natives of the Dark Cloud Abyss, she kept it outside, and the stage became a duel arena for the two of them.

Surprisingly, Nidhogg did the same thing. How deep was his obsession with dueling? The vampire countess, who hadn't witnessed the Dragon King battle three thousand years ago, naturally didn't know, but she gleaned a clue from this attitude. The only ones who felt displeasure were the swarming magical beasts, but their individual strength was no match for the countess, let alone Nidhogg. They dared to stand before this terrifying skeleton purely because of their numerical advantage.

After a brief silence, the beasts ultimately dared not confront the dragon's authority, even though it was a dead dragon; it was still a dragon after all. So, the rhinoceros-like horned crystal beast turned and fled without hesitation, disappearing into the night with a thunderous roar; the Netherfire Griffin let out a mournful cry, like the wail of an infant, and flapped its wings into the shadows of the mountains; the Beg Serpent, its body like a sword, slithered between the earth and the canyons, the powerful friction accompanied by bursts of sparks, obscuring its cold, vertical pupils… But the Countess clearly sensed that they were not far away, lying in wait in the shadows, awaiting their opportunity.

Beasts never miss an opportunity to tear apart their enemies, and this is where the difference between them and Nidhogg lies. They are magical beasts, and although they possess intelligence no less than that of humans, their inherent bestiality still reigns supreme. Nidhogg, on the other hand, always behaves more ferociously than beasts, yet he is a dragon, once the most powerful race on this continent, having received education and inherited civilization. Therefore, even in death, in a daze, something more important than survival instinct remains etched in his memory, such as... honor and obsession.

Some stubborn souls are determined to fight to the death, even if death comes again.

The dragon skeleton withdrew its gaze and focused it back on the countess, the meaning of which was self-evident: Let's continue this duel, and then, let's end it.

The Countess couldn't help but smile wryly. A duel's prerequisite was that both sides were evenly matched. However, since Ovira had deliberately reminded her of this, there must be a reason, right? Perhaps, victory wasn't necessary to end the duel; simply dispelling Nidhogg's obsession through the duel would suffice. The only problem was that, apart from Ovira, who was trapped in the illusion, no one knew what this dragon's obsession truly was. His gaze was so empty, as if he were looking at someone from millions of years ago. Could it be that back then, someone else, like herself, had faced this proud and arrogant dragon in the dueling arena?
Is it Italo, the hero of the one-winged wing, or...?

The countess did not receive an answer, because the duel had already begun.

Nidhogg slowly lowered his head, a simple movement that caused the heavens and earth to tremble and time itself to groan. In that instant when the heavens and earth, time and space, intersected with his fleeting memories, his dragon wings dipped slightly downwards, whipping up a howling hurricane. Its edges tore through the void, taking root in the earth, like a sharp sword piercing a person's heart. The black hole, which had been shrinking and rotating, constantly devouring tangible and intangible things, suddenly stopped, falling into an indescribable stiffness, as if time had been stripped away, frozen in silent nothingness, appearing so eerily strange.

"..."

No one was sure if they had truly heard it, but the calm sigh seemed to come from an ancient era, or perhaps from a cold world, filled with a deathly silence, darkness, and chilling atmosphere. The power of the words alone was almost suffocating. The next moment, the previously frozen black hole was plunged back into the vortex of spacetime, spinning at an astonishing speed in the opposite direction. Amidst the ear-piercing cracking sounds, the void shattered like a mirror. The black hole beneath the dragon wings, like a crouching beast, opened its massive maw and poured out all the tangible and intangible remnants it had just swallowed. It was a pitch-black wind, deeper than the night and colder than frost, twisted by an invisible will, transforming into a torrent of malice, resentment, rage, pride, loneliness, and arrogance, surging down.

All that was restrained, bound, prescribed, and divided... vanished and disappeared. Forbidden power dragged a heavy black hole down, bringing about the end of the entire world.

That was a forbidden power Nidhogg gained after being trapped in boundless darkness, enduring endless loneliness, and brewing infinite rage. From the very beginning, it existed to destroy something, and therefore its destructive power was unparalleled. It is said that Bahamut, the Infinite Dragon God who witnessed this move, once wanted to stop the ritual, because he felt that it had gone beyond the original intention of the competition. However, a sudden premonition made him restrain his impulse and choose to let the duel continue until the moment of victory was decided.

At this moment, Navel could somewhat understand the Dragon King's feelings back then, even though she didn't know about this past event and had no desire to empathize with him.

“After this battle,” she said to herself, “I’ll need to stay in bed for at least three months.”

Before the words were even finished, the silver moon rose again, casting its shimmering light. The Countess's figure transformed into a streak of light, moving against the surging torrent, resolutely breaking free from its constraints. The scene was so breathtaking, like a black line and a silver line chasing each other on an endlessly stretching curtain, vowing to erase each other's existence, leaving no other color in the world except themselves.

A standoff, a battle, and then a victor emerges.

This was exactly what Nidhogg wanted. So, when faced with a power capable of rivaling himself, he showed no emotional fluctuation. He merely raised his head slightly, and colorless flames gradually overflowed from his empty eye sockets, hanging at the corner of his eye like a tear that would never fall. A long-dormant pain surged into his heart, shattering his memories. He saw those mirror-like fragments sweep past him, falling silently into a long river. He tried to trace the past within it, but found it already overlapped, indistinguishable. Tracing the past is an extension of the present; yearning for the future is a reenactment of the past. Sadly, he had no future, and could only cast his gaze upon the fragmented traces, watching the same scenes repeat themselves.

Time, meandering, has trapped him in an eternal moment.

That is……

……

Mountains crumbled, trees were shattered, the ancient mountain range lay in ruins, and the dragons were deathly silent, unable to believe their eyes. Herasvalg, who carried the blood of the infinite dragon god Bahamut and was considered by them the undisputed next dragon king, was being relentlessly suppressed by Nidhogg, falling into a state of absolute disadvantage. Their battle sometimes soared into the sky, sometimes crashed to the earth, stirring up raging winds and the earth's mournful cries. When the dark winds suppressed the platinum winds, Herasvalg was struck down from the sky by Nidhogg for what seemed like the umpteenth time, falling into the extinguished mountains and melting earth and rocks, obscured by the billowing dust. The entire city of Adras fell silent; you could hear a pin drop.

Nidhogg had no time to care about the other dragons' thoughts. It quickly flapped its wings, streaking across the sky in a straight line before crashing into the dust without hesitation, its fierce momentum seemingly about to shatter the mountain peak as well.

"Click——"

A heavy, teeth-grinding screech resounded, and he felt as if he were confronting steel, unable to advance an inch.

As the smoke cleared, Horaswalg's disheveled state came into view. He was covered in wounds, blood trickling from his mouth, scales obscured by dust, his former composure gone. He desperately used his shoulder to block Nidhogg's dragon claws, while simultaneously sweeping his tail across the ground. But Nidhogg made the same move in that instant, and their tails collided violently in mid-air, sending sparks flying that were quickly buried and extinguished by the dust.

"So you finally dare to fight me head-on, Heraswalg!"

Even from a distance of several inches, Nidhogg glared at him and spat out the words through gritted teeth: "Running away is nothing but cowardice!"

"I've said it before, I only do what's right, not what's just, so... as long as I win, there's no such thing as cowardice or courage!"

Heraswalg gritted his teeth as well. Physically, he couldn't match Nidhogg's strength, honed through countless life-or-death battles, so he could only rely on willpower. Nidhogg's attacks were fierce, but his desire for victory was no less intense: "Don't think of me as being like you!"

He suddenly exerted his strength, briefly suppressing Nidhogg in that instant, pushing his massive body aside. Then, taking advantage of the momentum, he opened his enormous maw and unleashed a breath of dragon breath at close range, unleashing countless sharp blades. A dragon's breath is innate, yet it varies with its growth, reflecting the color of its scales: red dragon scales are the flames of fury, hence the breath is turbulent and violent; white dragon scales are pure and flawless, hence the breath is pure and unique; azure dragon scales are as light as feathers, hence the breath is swift as the wind… But Herasvalg, who inherited scales of the same color as the dragon god Bahamut and was known as the Platinum Dragon, did not possess the same immense and sacred breath as Bahamut. His breath was simply sharp; even a slight touch would instantly create a slashing wound.

The moment it opened its mouth, it was as if it had spat out a million scorching swords, or as if ten million daggers were simultaneously cutting into your flesh. Even the most robust scales of the Obsidian Dragon could not withstand these incomparably sharp and fierce dragon breaths.

"whispering sound!"

Nidhogg, pushed aside, sensed the approaching danger. Although he preferred wide-ranging battles, he wasn't a madman. With a reluctant snort, he used the force of the impact to retreat, narrowly avoiding the dragon's breath. Meanwhile, Hraswarg had already spread his wings and soared back into the sky, a thousand meters high, looking down at him from above. However, he didn't exude any awe-inspiring power; instead, he appeared utterly disheveled.

How long are you going to run away?

Nidhogg looked at the dragon, knowing it was determined to stall for time until its body could no longer withstand the fierce onslaught and it collapsed from exhaustion. He spoke in a low voice, confident that Hraeswalg could hear him: "Such escapism, such cowardice, and you still claim it's for victory. You've become so laughable to gain this Dragon Emperor position. Is this your pride, Hraeswalg?"

"If this is all the pride you have, I have no interest in taking it away from you."

"I have no pride whatsoever."

Faced with Nidhogg's questioning, Hraswag repeated his own words for what felt like the hundredth time, growing weary from the sheer number of times he'd emphasized them, his tone becoming indifferent. Perhaps this attitude enraged Nidhogg, for he roared, flapping his wings and whipping up a black gale, rising like a destructive meteor from the ground, tracing a straight path across the sky before landing in front of Hraswag in an instant. His dragon claws slammed down, pouring all his power into the howling storm.

Heraswag was prepared for his attack, but his eyes couldn't keep up with his speed. By the time he reacted, Nidhogg's dragon claws had already fallen, tearing open the scales on his chest. Crimson blood gushed out like a waterfall, a bewitching rain of blood falling from the sky.

He groaned, intense pain shooting through his entire body, his face turning deathly pale. He gritted his teeth, refusing to show any sign of suffering, and opened his mouth to unleash his dragon breath. Seeing him about to repeat his attack, Nidhogg swiftly extended his other dragon claw, strangling him with lightning speed, choking the breath that was about to escape. In the end, only a weak breath and a nearly still heartbeat escaped his lips.

"How many more times do you intend to use the same trick, Heraswalg?"

At this distance, Hraswalg could even see the gloom and anger deep in Nidhogg's eyes: "You say you have no pride... Don't be ridiculous!!!"

Give me some cats