Novel Full Chapter 801 - 801: Only Me.
Most assume dragons are an infinite source of mana, and to a point, they are. However, it isn’t like that.
They are more of an infinite storage of mana. While other species that utilize mana gather it from the environment and turn it into their own, dragons produce it from within. Their heart is a generator, and it is much faster and more potent than the ways of the others, where mana is absorbed from the environment through their skin or through breathing.
A dragon’s heart produces mana, but it can be damaged if it is forced beyond its capabilities. The strongest strength of a dragon is their vessel.
They can hold an infinite amount of mana; there is no limit to how much they can contain. Unlike everyone else who has a limit on how much mana they contain, they have none.
Their heart endlessly produces mana at a steady rate, and they just store it to use it whenever needed. A dragon that hasn’t done anything for a hundred years is more dangerous than an active one, precisely because it contains so much mana that one cannot even measure it.
They are an infinite storage, with a steady supply for as long as they want. Even in the midst of overexertion, they are beyond what anyone else can even imagine. They just grow, and grow.
The only time their supply isn’t steady is when they are born. One of the most dangerous things in the universe is a baby dragon, and its heart, the heart of a baby dragon, produces mana unlike any other. Explosive bursts of it, unlike any other, at a rate even Adult and Greater dragons struggle to match, some of the talented baby dragons surpass even the Ancient dragons in mana production. This effect is somewhat weakened in those turned into a dragon by a blessing, but still prominent.
However, this period doesn’t last long, in accordance with their species’ lifespan. It is a defense mechanism built into their species, against what?
Only the oldest dragons know. This absurd production of mana is the sole reason why one will rarely see a baby dragon, and also the reason one will/
They are the most curious of a species, and this curiosity knows no bounds in a baby dragon; most often escape the home planet they are born on due to the absurd amount of mana they possess.
Originally, baby dragons are taught and kept in the same place, for, at the very least, a hundred years. Until they can mature and develop the connection that keeps dragons in touch with each other, however, they still manage to escape.
Because even the greatest of their own species can’t do much against their insane mana production, they simply brute force their way through most defenses or use their mastery of mana to escape.
However, this is exactly where the fear of dragons originates from in most of the species, where the legends about them emerge.
All it takes to piss off a baby dragon is one greedy person who wants to earn fame and wealth, and bring the end of their entire world at the hands of a temper tantrum.
If not for the connection, defeating an Adult Dragon, even a Warrior Dragon, would be easier than trying to take on an angry baby dragon.
Why? It is simple, one often cannot do much against a storm of mana that their monstrous hearts can produce.
Many have succeeded in defeating and killing Adult Dragons; few have survived the wrath of a baby dragon, still unaware of the true extent of its absurd mana output.
The Shadow realm trembled as the skies lit up in a menacing display of chaotic power, purple light in the form of spinning circles layered over each other thousands and thousands of times, forming thousands of different kinds of offensive magic.
Shadows in the form of chaos reigned supreme in the skies, bearing its fangs at Alan Peccator, who was aware of it all, but focused on only one thing.
His fist was caught in the ruined visage of the Shadow, its scales pierced his skin and hit bone, but Alan didn’t care. He kept punching.
Time was running out, a hell he couldn’t survive even with regeneration was coming.
‘Come on! COME ON!’
He was ordering his heart to function properly, but there was no response. He tackled the shadow and mounted him, continuing to punch and punch.
His fists regenerated so many times, as he only focused on making sure he crushed the head of the Shadow, but the purple light was growing brighter and brighter. The Shadow was now weak and unable to exert any form of strength in its arms. It could only take the beating and focus on the hell it would unleash soon.
The magic was coming, and Alan could see it in its eyes; it had chosen mutual destruction. It was prepared to die, and take him with it. He wouldn’t be surviving the endless rain of magic that would ensue; his healing factor wouldn’t do jack shit against that.
Alan didn’t even realize his own tail had been torn to shreds, and the bladed tail of the Shadow had pierced his own gut, grinding his flesh and tearing his insides as Alan kept punching, his fists glowed with his astral blue aura as he focused on killing it before it killed him.
And he had done it, the head was no longer indistinguishable from the ground below, the ice was merely dyed in blood.
Alan looked all around, tried to move, and finally realized the tail was stuck in his gut, anchoring him to the body of the Shadow.
It had stabbed him first, and then itself, just to make sure Alan couldn’t escape.
He had no mana to use instantaneous teleportation, nor to open a portal. A portal wouldn’t function in such a chaotic environment.
Incomplete spells exploded in the air, raining down solid blocks of mana as the completed ones induced a terror he didn’t know existed.
He was going to die. He was actually going to die.
“…”
‘Like hell, I am.’