Chapter 25: A Dragon’s Insanity [1]

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Flames and frost erupted, shockwaves of Mana and Fantasium surging through the Deep Forge. Workers and even golems fled the scene in panic. They were accustomed to Master Dorfus’ grumpy outbursts, but it had been years since they witnessed him rampage like this—and against the Prince of the Kingdom, no less.

The rumors were true: he respected no royalty. He only valued strength, outstanding determination, and relentless hard work. A spoiled, crippled prince who had disappointed his family from Yggdrasil and caused his parents endless hardship was exactly the kind of person Dorfus despised most.

Though he had never sought to meet Louis, now that fate had brought them together, the dwarf seized the chance to deliver a lesson—dwarven style.

“I’ve waited for this moment, you spoiled brat! A damned lizard who can’t even transform! You’re a disgrace to your family! Do you even know how much suffering you’ve caused your mother?!”

“…What did you say?”

CLAAASH!

They collided. Louis’ Ashen Frost Spear met Dorfus’ Soul Weapon—a blazing hammer forged from his own Aura. The spear melted instantly, exploding into a thick smokescreen of ashes that enveloped Dorfus. He inhaled the particles and began coughing violently.

“Cough…! A cheap smokescreen! Is that all you’ve got, you damned brat?!” Dorfus roared, clapping his hands to unleash a blazing shockwave that scattered the ashes and revealed Louis hovering above him with skeletal wings.

During the week spent training with Mirai, Louis had learned to control the Transformation he achieved by merging all his Methods, fusing with his Incarnation and the two other Incarnation Fragments.

To conserve Fantasium and avoid overexerting his body, he first mastered partial transformation. This time he converted the skeletal hand of the Necromancer Incarnation Fragment into a pair of skeletal wings, granting him flight.

The more Enslaved Souls he infused into those wings, the greater their speed and the fiercer the ghostly flames that now danced along them—flames he was only beginning to master.

Zorba had granted him five Enslaved Souls, boosting the Skeletal Dragon Wings with enhanced velocity and ghostly flame potency.

“Hoh, fancy wings! What can you even do with that garbage, prince—”

“This.”

Louis spread his wings. They suddenly extended to fifteen meters, ghostly flames surging wildly before splitting into countless will-o’-wisps that rained down on Dorfus from above.

“Hah! Ghost Flames?! You take me for an amateur?!”

The dwarf’s aura exploded outward. Using it alone, he stepped into the air and closed the distance, smashing through the ghostly flames with his Soul Weapon or simply letting them strike him. He trusted his physical and magical defenses to shrug off such feeble attacks from a crippled prince.

Or so he believed.

“Ungh?!”

Suddenly Dorfus felt an unbearable chill spread through his body. His skin paled. He vomited a mouthful of blood. The more will-o’-wisps pierced and dispersed within him, the worse the agony grew.

“G-Gaaah?! What is this?! Ghost Flames don’t normally… hurt like this?!”

“They’re special Ghost Flames born from a Spiral’s Incarnation, Dorfus!”

Louis smiled coldly, manifesting another Ashen Frost Spear infused with Ghostly Flames. He charged downward. Dorfus swung his hammer in interception. Flames and frost detonated once more, shaking the entire Deep Forge.

BOOOM!

In the chaos of the explosion, Louis kicked Dorfus square in the head with full force. The dwarf merely grinned through the pain, blood streaming from his nose as he seized Louis’ leg and hurled him like a ragdoll toward the boiling smelting pit.

“Why don’t you take a bath?! You reek of corpses, lizard prince!”

“Tsk!”

Louis twisted midair, using his wings to soar back. Dorfus met him with his blazing hammer—now five meters long—descending with terrifying power. Louis expanded his Mana Consciousness just in time, evading the strike by a hair. He spun and thrust the frozen spear into the dwarf’s left shoulder.

“Kuaaagh?!”

“Got you!”

“Heh!”

Even with a freezing spear embedded in his shoulder, Dorfus grinned wider. His body flushed crimson. Louis sensed the dwarf’s Mana Heart igniting with ferocious heat.

RUMBLE!

Every flame in the Deep Forge answered his call. The spear melted instantly. Dorfus’ wound sealed shut, his blood flowing like molten magma. Louis stared in shock.

“Just what the hell are you—GUH?!”

CRASH!

Before he could finish, Dorfus slammed a blazing fist into his flawless face. Skin charred. One eye burst. Louis crashed into the ceiling, embedding in bedrock. His body convulsed in agony—burnt face, ruined eye, shattered leg and ribs. The damage screamed defeat.

“You’re finished, brat! Never provoke a dwarf! I’ll spare you—go home and reflect on what you’ve done! And don’t worry about the eye; get a mechanical one, gahahaha!”

“Heh… Hahahah…”

At those words, Louis laughed, genuine, almost joyful. Dorfus felt a chill crawl up his spine and instinctively retreated as bizarre energy surged from Louis’ entire body. Ashes enveloped him completely.

“It’s no good… I’ll have to go all-out. You’re an old monster, after all!”

“W-Wha…?!”

BOOOM!

Before Dorfus could react, Louis appeared before him. His hands transformed into massive metallic dragon claws that plunged into the dwarf’s chest. Blood sprayed. Dorfus gritted his teeth and tried to hurl Louis away once more.

It failed.

“What is this?!”

Dozens of gray runes glowed around Dorfus’ arms. Louis flicked his fingers. The runes detonated in sequence. The dwarf barely reinforced his defenses in time to keep his arms intact, but his skin tore and muscles scorched.

“Gaaaaahhh! W-What the hell?! What are those?!”

“Ash Magic.”

Louis spat ashes into Dorfus’ face, coating him in tiny runes. Another flick. Explosions rippled across the dwarf’s body. Individually weak but chained together they inflicted serious damage.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

“Tsk!”

Dorfus summoned the full fiery power of his Mana Heart. Blazing armor enveloped him. His hair and beard became roaring flames. His eyes burned golden.

“You’ve forced my hand! This is my full power, lizard prince!”

He charged, manifesting not one hammer but dozens of flaming ones. They struck Louis from every direction—left, right, above, below, front, back—pummeling him mercilessly.

Yet Louis smiled through the inferno. His beautiful face disfigured further. Half his hair burned away, leaving his scorched scalp bald. He laughed louder, sending ice down Dorfus’ spine.

In centuries of life, the dwarf had never faced such a masochistic madman.

“What the hell are you laughing at, damn brat?! Don’t you see you’re about to die?!”

“Death? That’s not a concept for me!”

Louis erupted with power. His Aura transformed into a ferocious, roaring ashen dragon for an instant. He seized Dorfus, enveloping him in Ashen Frost, each ice particle laced with a tiny ash-trap rune.

While gripping the dwarf tightly with arms and legs, Louis whispered the unthinkable.

“Boom.”

“…?!”

BOOOMMM!!!

“Kuaaaagghh?! T-This bastard…!”

Dorfus screamed as the massive explosion consumed him. Unable to escape Louis’ iron grip, he plummeted from the sky and crashed into the forge, vomiting blood, covered in charred wounds, gasping desperately amid ashes and ice.

“T-That kid is insane! He’s fucking crazy! W-What is he?! Did he just try to kill himself?! Has he no fear of death?!”

Dorfus, the three-hundred-year-old dwarf, trembled in genuine terror as Louis slowly rose before him—burnt, disfigured, one-eyed, hairless, horns shattered, wings and arms crumbling to ash.

He looked like a walking corpse.

“A-Ahh! Aaaahhh! W-What the fuck?! Get away from me!”

Dorfus backed away as Louis advanced, smiling viciously. His lips had calcined away, exposing pristine white teeth.

“Make me… a weapon… you damn… dwarf…!”

He clamped his hands around Dorfus’ neck and began to strangle him. Dorfus, overwhelmed by despair, weakened rapidly as the Ashen Frost absorbed and grew stronger through his fear.

“Louis! Stop it! Louis!”

His father rushed forward, dragging Louis’ zombie-like form away from the dwarf. Dorfus wasn’t crying, but terror had paralyzed him. He stared at the monstrous prince as though he had faced death itself.

Despite his immense strength, Dorfus was second-generation—a son of a Dwarf God from Yggdrasil. He had lived a relatively peaceful life, untouched by the cataclysmic events that forged his father and other titans. Never before had death felt so close.

“Handy… heal me…”

A black hand emerged from Louis’ Fantasy Heart. Its red eye widened in shock at the damage. It spread a miasma-like aura, rapidly mending Louis’ wounds before turning gray, its eye shifting to blue. It would be unusable for at least twenty-four hours.

“Handy” was the name Louis had given this entity that accidentally bonded with his soul during regression, a fragment of the Abyssal Mother, perhaps drawn to him by her will or mere chance.

Over the past week, Louis had fully tamed it through intimidation. Once he confirmed it no longer connected to the Abyssal Mother, he turned it into his personal healing potion, capable of near-total restoration once daily, as long as he fed it Fantasium Crystals to prevent starvation.

“Eh?! What’s that hand?” Gustaf asked in surprise.

“An Entity I’ve Bonded with,” Louis explained. “It has almost no offensive power, but it possesses a Fragment of the Spiral of Compassion and knows the [Heal] Ability.”

“So that was your trump card. Is this why you went so far?” Gustaf facepalmed.

“I also have plenty of tonics,” Louis replied, opening his shadows and downing three at once. Handy could save him from death, but his body still looked horrific. Ten tonics later, he restored himself fully, even his hair regrew, thanks to Handy’s remarkable power.

“You’re so resourceful despite being such a reckless brat…” Gustaf sighed. “Don’t do that again.”

“Hm, don’t worry. I know my limits…” Louis lied, approaching Dorfus with a gentle smile. “So, Dorfus. Will you do what I asked… or do you want another beating?”

“Y-You bastard…! Fine…! Fine! Have it your way!” Dorfus growled, standing up. He stared in disbelief as Louis offered him several tonics.

“I am truly sorry for injuring you so severely. I know that for blacksmiths, your arms—and especially your hands—are your greatest treasures. I made certain not to destroy them, nor your face, out of courtesy.”

“Y-You were holding back?!” Dorfus asked, stunned.

Indeed. Had Louis targeted his head from the start, the fight could have ended far worse. Dorfus was powerful, on par with Catrise at full strength. Yet Louis’ abilities were unpredictable, especially his self-destructive transformation.

“Yes, I held back. It was difficult,” Louis admitted. “I respect your craft here. I simply wanted to commission something. Rest assured, I will pay you generously.”

Dorfus couldn’t shake the lingering terror, especially now that the zombie-like figure stood fully restored, looking almost untouched, save for his ruined clothes, leaving only tattered white pants barely clinging like Hulk’s shorts.

“You really are the mad prince the rumors describe!” Dorfus spat. “Fine! I’ll forge a spear worthy of a lunatic like you! Oh yes, you’ll fucking love it, you damn bastard! Wait one week—I’ll have it ready!”

“Good. Thank you, Dorfus,” Louis said. “Ah, could you use this?”

He handed Dorfus a small white scale, one he had taken from his mother’s ingredients for potions. The dwarf’s eyes widened as he sensed the purity and aura of Benladra.

“I wonder how a Saintess like Benladra gave birth to a monster like you…” Dorfus sighed. “But I’ll keep my mouth shut. You seem especially sensitive when someone mentions your mother, huh?”

“I would appreciate it if you kept my mother’s name out of your filthy mouth, Dorfus,” Louis replied with a gentle smile, patting his shoulder. “Now work.”

“Understood, ’your majesty’! Tsk, tsk!” Dorfus grumbled, clearly furious but bound by his dwarven vow. “Hey Gustaf, keep an eye on this madman.”

“I will…” Gustaf sighed, already nursing a headache. “Louis, please, let’s go.”

“Hm,” Louis nodded. “Then next Monday, I’ll return for my new weapon. Work hard, Dorfus. And remember, if I find you’ve tampered with it or sabotaged me in any way… I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“…!” Dorfus stepped back, afraid. “Tsk… I would never! Do you take me for some shady bastard?! I pour my soul and heart into every piece I forge! I’ll prove my sincerity!”

“Very well,” Louis said. “Good luck.”

Louis walked away after casually threatening the Royal Blacksmith. He returned to the surface and parted from his father, whom he had grown weary of.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep