Chapter 326: Zugzwang

Fenrir’s surprise attack wasn’t just dodged, it was even returned with a counter from Divron. Axel’s reflexes were quick, but even he couldn’t outpace a lightning bolt. There was simply no room between realization and impact.

He could barely cross his arms in front of his body before the attack landed.

CRACKLE!

BOOM!

The lightning bolt, a pure white beam of light, struck him right on his crossed arms.

Axel felt how hot his arms became. His body was assaulted by a deadly amount of electricity too, making his muscles stiffen for a brief moment. Every fiber locked up at once, like a puppet with its strings suddenly pulled taut. A moment that the enemy had made, and wouldn’t miss out on.

"Take this...!"

The next moment, a craggy fist was already flying toward his face. He could see the knuckles clearly. The cracks in the scales. The electricity still sparking off the skin.

His muscles were still convulsing from the electric shock, so he couldn’t dodge even if he wanted to. He could only watch as the fist came closer and—

WHOOSH!

—entered a black rift that appeared right before Axel’s face.

The fist, routed into the rift instead, missed its target completely!

But it didn’t end there either.

At the same time, Fenrir’s fist—clad in red aura shaped like her real claws—swiped against the enemy.

The red, sharp nails barely tapped against his clothes and scales, but they already left three deep grooves along the surface. Three lines, clean and precise, like someone had dragged a hot blade through cold metal.

From both shock and slight discomfort, the old dragon took a few steps back, staggered.

"Master, are you okay?!"

The next moment, Fenrir moved through a rift, standing between him and the old dragon, tail standing straight, wary and protective.

Axel, finally recovering normal movement, breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Fenrir. You saved me this time."

He was sure he could tank that punch to the face, of course. However, it wasn’t like the enemy would stop with just one. With their speed, hitting hundreds of times within the stiffness’ duration was child’s play.

Even if the enemy stopped just short of taking his life, Axel would surely lose all combat effectiveness by then.

"So you really do have a god-level backer." Upon seeing Fenrir, Divron grinned. "But unfortunately, you’re weaker than me!"

The next moment, Divron’s entire body morphed into lightning itself.

Fenrir’s eyes opened wide upon seeing this, but it was already too late to react.

BAM!

Thankfully, Axel was one step ahead.

To protect Fenrir, he set up a few magic arrows and let them fly along the path between Fenrir and the old man. With barely any space between the arrows, the old man could only try to dodge—except he couldn’t.

In lightning form, he could only travel in straight lines.

He could take sharp turns too, but the conditions to do so were too specific to execute manually. Thus, instead of Fenrir getting injured, the old dragon took a second hit, a second wound instead.

Worse, he had been in a semi-ethereal state. The mana arrows cut through the gaps that physical force couldn’t reach, damaging him internally, and even causing a slight injury to his very soul. The kind of wound that didn’t bleed, but stung far longer.

Divron staggered back once more.

This time, the smile on his face had completely disappeared.

He had attacked twice and been blocked twice. Worse, he received damage during both exchanges! For a dragon like him, being beaten one-sidedly was one of the things they absolutely could not tolerate. His pride, older than most kingdoms, was starting to crack.

"Fuck Trismus and that bitch for telling me to catch you alive... I’ll kill you now, you bastards!"

The words came out raw. Less like a threat, more like a decision.

After his outburst, his body changed once more.

This time, aside from being covered with sparks from head to toe, his body changed shape too. Slowly morphing toward his dragon form, though smaller than his true size. Compact, but denser. Like something that had given up on looking civilized.

[Now, see if you can handle this...!]

Again, he attacked. But this time, not moving straight to the target.

With him literally moving at lightning speed, he circled around the two, finding openings that were too narrow to predict. Then, spotting Axel’s back wide open, he struck.

A fist flew straight toward Axel’s back.

When his knuckles made contact, however, Divron felt something was wrong.

It was too soft. No, he felt nothing at all.

He had punched nothing but air!

"Devour!"

While he was stuck in place, Fenrir attacked.

She devoured, planning to swallow the old dragon whole. However, again—almost as if he could see the future—he dodged the attack effortlessly.

"..."

Axel, who was actually invisible at the moment and standing a short distance away, frowned.

Watching the old man’s behavior, he felt like he was on the verge of figuring something out. A pattern. An opening. Something the man was giving away without knowing it. However, whenever he tried to articulate it in his mind, the thought slipped past his grasp like smoke.

After a few tries, he still couldn’t pin it down. As such, he decided to shelve it and focus on the problem at hand instead.

’I can’t let Fenrir fight him alone. I need to weaken him, at least. And fast!’

Fenrir was de-facto the strongest in Axevaria Kingdom at the moment.

However, even with her strength, beating a mid-ranked god was another matter entirely. They might be dictating the pace of the battle right now and even held the upper hand, but that could change without warning. A single mistake, and the tide would flip.

"UGH!"

And almost as if to prove his worries correct, Fenrir got hit.

A powerful punch loaded with the force of a lightning strike, landing clean before she could raise a guard. The residual electricity coursing through her body caused her muscles to spasm all at once, making it literally impossible to move.

She was frozen mid-stance, teeth gritted, completely at his mercy.

"DIE!"

And without mercy, Divron thrust his palm—nails facing forward—straight through Fenrir’s head.