The Black Dragon of Calamity vs. the Hero God of Thunder

[What is this? What am I even looking at?!] [Total kaiju battle, lol.] [Whaaaaat is happening?]

The comment section was a chaotic mess of screaming and disbelief.

The feed was scrolling faster than I’d ever seen, the sheer volume of engagement threatening to crash the server. Captured by the third-person camera was the sight of the massive Black Dragon and Ouma locked in a struggle that defied logic.

By visual estimation, the dragon was at least twenty-five meters long. Every movement she made was an act of pure destruction. She manipulated water, exhaled lethal breath, and tore through the air with her claws. Just by manifesting, she had fundamentally rewritten the local environment.

This was Vritra, the Black Dragon described in myths as both the harshness of winter and the drought of a parched summer. She was the deification of a natural phenomenon. Her mere presence as a god was enough to transform the world.

"Honestly, my little brother treats his big sister like garbage. I’m definitely going to need some compensation later."

Merli was busy handling the logistics, teleporting the members of Illegal to safety. She gathered the unconscious and those who had surrendered into a single area, all while keeping a casual eye on the unfolding carnage.

"I don’t really want to help these losers, but it’s Reima’s request, right? Oh well. I’ll just make sure to drain plenty of spirit from him later!"

Humming to herself, she deployed a massive magic circle, erecting a barrier to shield the fallen. As a Magician of the highest caliber in Mythologia, her barriers were instantaneous and nearly impenetrable. Anyone inside would be safe.

"Um... who are you?"

"Hm? Me? I’m Reima’s big sister! And you... you’re a Healer, right? Reima’s former big sister, if I recall?"

"I don’t know why," Senka, the Guild Master of Valsia, replied as she approached, "but I feel like I really shouldn't lose to you."

"Eh, don't bother. It’s not even a competition," Merli said, exhaling as she finished her work. "I’m the one and only big sister for Reima."

"…Guild Master, please just ignore her," Ayane sighed. "Focus on Reima and the others."

The members of Valsia had gathered near the barrier after finishing off the rest of Illegal. Under normal circumstances, they should have used this opening to destroy the mana stone, but nobody had the time. There was a collective understanding that if they didn't stay in the safe zone, they’d be vaporized by the collateral damage.

[I can't look away!] [What kind of battle is this?!] [Is this really S-Rank…?] [No way. This has completely surpassed that category.]

The wind groaned and the water pulsed. Supported by my magic, Vritra went on a rampage, her power multiplied several times over. Ouma’s lightning was constantly intercepted, never reaching the dragon. The Dungeon, which had been frozen into a Hyogoku only moments ago, was now a drowning world of torrential rain.

It happened just before the final showdown with the calamity known as the Demon King.

My four party members and I, along with the primary forces of several nations, were staring down an endless tide of monsters. There were tens of thousands of them, filling the horizon like a living wall, slowly grinding our forces down. Garda, the warrior who had been holding the front line for me, retreated for a moment, his breathing heavy.

"Tsk. Reima, we’re being bled dry here. I need orders."

"A frontal breakthrough is the only way—but we need to conserve mana for the boss…"

"Master Reima," Lufel interrupted, "let me act as a decoy. My skills are best suited for large-scale extermination."

"No, Lufel. We’re all making it out of here. I’m not losing a single person."

The situation was a dumpster fire. To get through, I’d have to leave some of my Summoned Beasts behind to hold the line—but against that damn Demon King, I couldn't afford to lose any combat power. Every monster in that horde was effectively S-Rank. They were anomalies that didn't fit into standard classifications, and they were here to crush us.

"Hey, comrade. If someone has to stay, it’s me."

"…No. You’re essential for the Demon King fight too."

"I’m the best at annihilation in this group, aren't I? Besides, in terms of raw, single-strike firepower, the only things that rival me are Gram-class. I’ll open a path with everything I’ve got. Leave that piece of trash to the rest of you."

"But against these numbers, there's no way you'll survive—"

"Hah! Don't underestimate me. You’ve always been too hesitant to rely on others. For once, just let me be selfish."

He was prepared. I’d seen that look before—the face of a man walking into a grave. He was a comrade who had fought by my side through countless hells. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to tell him to stop. But in that moment, sentimentality was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Lufel the Healer was a necessity. Garda couldn't be sacrificed. Shura and Izana were the core of my party. The only one left to stay behind was—

"—Don't die. I'll see you on the other side."

"Hah. I'll catch up soon enough. You better finish that bastard off before I get there."

That was the last time we spoke. It was the final record of a battle-maniac who never made it back from the front.

"Kuhahahaha! This is great, comrade! I’m having the time of my life!"

"Well, I’m not! You thunder-brained idiot, Shakra!"

Before me, lightning had taken human form. Every time he tapped into his mana, a spear formed in his hands, and hundreds of bolts screamed through the air, trying to pierce Vritra.

"Which one of you am I even talking to right now?!"

"It’s about half-and-half. Half me, half the Ouma kid."

"—Seriously, you cause nothing but trouble!"

"I have his permission, you know! He told me to go as wild as I want as thanks for everything so far!"

This guy—Shakra—was stronger than I was in my prime when it came to close-quarters combat. I could beat him if I leaned on my Summoned Beasts, but in my current weakened state, even that was a toss-up. Fortunately, he seemed to be under the same restrictions; he couldn't output the same level of magic he had back in Mythologia.

The thunder named Shakra roared amidst the downpour. His red eyes glowed through the clouds, and a sudden chill washed over me as I felt his mana peak.

"I am the usurper who murdered the seasons; I shall grant the gift of water to the foolish masses. My name, which pierced the dragon, is the dragon-slayer, Vritrahan!"

It was a passage from the Scripture. A reproduction of the legend where the hero Indra slew Vritra.

This was bad. It was likely the strongest move he could manifest without triggering an Origin Burst. It was a secret technique that had saved my life dozens of times, which only made me more aware of how terrifying it was to have it pointed at me.

I only had one option to counter it. An Origin Burst was out of the question—it would kill everyone in the vicinity. I had to weave a different power. I had to show him what I could do now.

"The clear skies that enveloped the world were closed off by wicked black scales; the mother sea was torn apart by claws and fangs, and the dragon's maw devours the mountain peaks that tower over the world in lamentation!"

I used proxy chanting, shouldering the mana cost myself to trigger Vritra’s ultimate move.

"[Vritrahan Silver Vajra]!"

"[Vritra's Asura Decide Gluttony]!"

A bolt of silver-white lightning roared forth in a straight line. In response, the entity known as Vritra unleashed her entire reservoir of mana. In the name of calamity, a light ignited in the sky like a falling star targeting Ouma. The evil dragon dissolved into the very space itself, becoming a swarm of a hundred writhing shadows intent on devouring him.

The collision was instantaneous.

Everything in the line of fire was swallowed by the dragon.