BLAKE PUDDING [1st Draft]

I couldn’t quite decide if I was facing a dragonkin or a bizarrely twisted human adorned with dragon-like features. Still, I have to admit, she was owning the look. Not quite normal, but utterly captivating. Dragging my gaze away from her to the maelstrom of fire ravaging my little Phantasias, a sinking feeling settled in about what might come next.

Yet, my mouth had a mind of its own. “Seriously, dragon lady, who the fuck are you?”

The dragon woman fixed me with a scowl, showcasing a resting bitch face that could effortlessly outclass Von Von’s. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat awed, and my impish smile likely only intensified her irritation, especially if that flying fist aimed at my face was any indication.

Now, I won’t lie; I tried to dodge that incoming fist, with an emphasis on tried. Dragon lady’s fist connected with my face with enough force that it should have exploded my head in a single punch. Well, a good layer of silk and pudding managed just that until her fist met the skull beneath, halting any further destruction of my face. That’s not to say her Supergirl-esque punch didn’t send the rest of me blasting off the ship with a force akin to an atomic detonation—yes, that’s an exaggeration, but holy shit, she hit hard! And yes, it was with enough force to send me sailing through the air, right overboard the airship, into a plummeting fall.

Umm… Nightmare, did you catch that system notification after she, bitch slapped us?

That wasn’t a bitch slap. She punched the living shit out of us.

Hopefully, not literally, am I right?

What? Oh, no. And no, we usually skip notifications. It would be too bothersome if they kept popping up.

I think this one might be worth a look.

Alright, Dream, fine.

While still tumbling through the sky, I lifted my hand to my cheek, finding a significant portion of my skull exposed. To my surprise, my pudding hadn’t filled the gap. Running my fingers over the edges of the damage, I encountered crispy pudding and realized the dragon lady’s punch must have been infused with fire magic. Even worse, I was struggling to heal after that impact.

Contemplating my options as I continued to tumble, I was on the verge of casting graviton before realizing I couldn’t control its pull in my current state. Activating it at the wrong moment could lead to a crash directly into the ground. So, with a mental shrug, I opted to allow myself to crash land before trying to reactivate my skill for a skyward ascent. Amidst my dizzying tumble, quick flashes of the ground-sky-airships-ground-sky-air—nope, that’s a pissed-off dragon lady—flitted by. Her fist connected with me once again, causing another explosive impact.

The force of the punch resolved any lingering debate about whether I should attempt to activate my gravity manipulation. I hit the ground with enough force to topple all the trees within the impact zone in a split second. Thankfully, my pudding body clung to my bones, preventing any gooey aftermath, but holy hell, that rocked my world—and not in the goody-naughty sense.

After several unsteady staggers to my knees, I managed to clamber back onto my feet, only to stare down at my chest, absolutely mortified. Glaring, I caught a full view of the dragon woman’s magnificent wingspan as she landed several meters away. I scowled at her for a long moment before blurting out what had truly pissed me off.

“You destroyed my left tit, you bitch!”

“I’m surprised you’re still alive, much less standing,” the dragon bitch scoffed. “I suppose introductions are in order. I’m Champion Orlai—”

Her words were abruptly cut off as a blur of golden light struck the side of her face. I witnessed the entire scene unfold in what felt like slow motion, or perhaps it was an adrenaline rush. Either way, I watched as my champion swooped in on golden wings, her shield raised before her, connecting with Orlai’s—Oral? Yeah, let’s go with Oral—face. It was like those slow-motion videos where a boxer gets punched, their head and neck jerking one way while the skin on their face flutters in the opposite direction. Oral skidded across the ground for several dozen meters, even toppling a tree or two.

“Damn, Von Von, I’m fucking impressed,” I smiled at her.

“Don’t be,” my champion snapped, her tone laced with panic. “Orlaith is still alive, and I’ve nearly depleted all my mana rushing to get here,” she explained, her voice strained with urgency. “We need to flee—now! We don’t stand a chance against her.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. If she kills me, I’ll just come back to life,” I shrugged off her concern nonchalantly.

“I won’t!”

I tried to reassure her with a wave of my hand. “Seriously, Aurelia can handle her, right?”

“Not during the day,” she interjected, her panic escalating. “Vampires, even with their day armor, are severely weakened by sunlight,” she clarified, her expression somber and grave.

“Huh, well… shit!”

“I’ll kill you,” roared a voice from the wreckage of trees—or would it be considered timber now? Regardless, amidst the fallen foliage stood a fuming Orlaith, sporting what appeared to be a significantly swollen eye that was illuminated in a deadly red glow.

I started to sweat as she raised her hands above her head, a large fireball beginning to form. Without wasting a moment, I promptly put [Weak Fire Ward] to its first trial by fire.

Puns, at a time like this?

Absolutely!

A translucent orange bubble materialized around me just as a torrent of flames was unleashed by the enemy champion. From the corner of my eye, I caught Vanya bracing herself behind a golden shield, but she quickly disappeared from view amidst the billowing flames. Regarding the ward, it was managing to hold up, though as the inferno raged on, I observed the protective bubble around me quickly shrinking with each passing second.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I muttered, beginning to crouch so my head wouldn’t stick out above the ward. I squeezed myself tighter, trying to avoid winding up in a full fetal position. “Damn,” I cursed as my shoulder, poking out beyond the ward, started to singe painfully. Thankfully, the onslaught of flames stopped before the bubble could shrink anymore. I had almost ditched my bones to squeeze myself into a tiny ball of goo.

Ignoring all the system notifications about being burnt, I didn’t give the flame-wielding bitch a chance to launch another fiery assault. Unfortunately, the smoke obscured my view, but I remembered her last position. I unleashed all my ranged spells and skills in that direction: a searing wave of Necrotic Flame surged towards her, accompanied by a dark cloud of Blight, and I even activated [Poison Spit].

A smile spread across my face as I kept my chest cavity open to the Stellar Void, allowing the dungeon core to saturate the ambient mana beyond my needs. This supercharged both Necrotic Flame and Blight to such an extent that a roaring wave of fire and a dark cloud enveloped everything in front of me, putting that dragon bitch’s spell to utter shame.

I won’t deny it; I looked like a mess. A significant part of my face was missing, unable to regenerate due to the scorched remnants there. My left breast was reduced to visible rib bones, and my right shoulder was so severely burned that the flesh there was still bubbling. Despite my appearance, I couldn’t stop laughing at the power of my magic. Until I saw her—Orlaith, wings outstretched, swooping directly at me from my side. As I turned to meet her gaze, her fist connected once more with the same freakin’ cheek she had already hit, abruptly halting my onslaught of magic. I was sent spiraling into a collision course with dirt, trees, rocks, and whatever else lay in my path.

After a chaotic, spiraling tumble of destruction, I finally came to a stop, sprawled out on my back in a spread-eagle position, miraculously still in non-goo form. This only proved how incredibly resilient these bones of mine were. As I lay there, staring up at the sky, my gaze fixed on the airships approaching the city and castle.

Then I noticed something astonishing—waves of objects resembling drop pods, or some equally insane contraptions being ejected from beneath them. They plummeted down toward the outskirts of the city. Meanwhile, a few of the larger airships began their descent, laden with what could only be far more soldiers aboard. All I could manage was a groan as I sat up.

However, I didn’t make it far before the dragon bitch landed right in front of me, her hand ablaze with fire. Panic surged as I called out, “[Astral Graviton]!”

Gravity slammed down on me, making me regret not performing a handstand before casting it. Its full force effortlessly stripped my flesh from my bones, leaving my Black Pudding essence to pool beneath my skeleton. Despite the overwhelming darkness, I managed to maintain at least half an eye, enough to observe the aftermath. To my dismay, Orlaith remained standing, grimacing—though her hand was no longer ablaze. Despite the immense pressure, she refused to fall, not even to a knee.

However, her stubbornness was matched by my own, so I continued to press down with the full force of Astral Graviton, creating a standoff—well, she was technically winning, but I preferred to consider it a stalemate. Yet, I wasn’t out of options.

Attempting my spells again, I launched both Blight and Necrotic Flame, followed by Poison Spit. It quickly became clear, though, that I couldn’t use any of my system skills while Astral Graviton was active. While I was confident I could find a workaround, time wasn’t on my side to experiment. Instead, I relied on the spells at my disposal. Unfortunately, it turned out gravity had its own ideas, and my spells didn’t emanate in the wafting wave I had envisioned. Instead, the two spells spread across the ground under the intense effect of gravity. So, while it might not have been the attack I planned, I was fairly sure Orlaith was experiencing quite the unpleasant sensation of what I’d call a serious case of footburn.

In my frustration, I focused intently on Blight and Necrotic Flame, willing them to break free from gravity’s hold, because releasing Astral Graviton wasn’t an option if it meant giving dragon lady an opening to strike. The desire to scream built up inside me as my mind strained under the intense pressure of balancing my innate magic with the system skill. I pushed deeper, for more, to break through, to surpass my limits.

Then, it was as if the heavens had parted in that moment. I felt an inexplicable merging within me. A brilliant flash of orange light erupted, and a deafening crack echoed like a thunderclap. Before I could even grasp what had happened, I sensed everything had changed; I had changed.

With a whisper, I voiced it, “I’m the one.”

Bitch, please! We’re still two.