Chapter 5: The Dragon's Flames

Armsmaster landed forcibly, ensuring not to harm civilians as best he could. It was more difficult without his halberd, thanks to the idiot who had broken it. He did cause some property damage upon landing, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, he couldn't care less at the moment. And not just because of his natural inclination toward selfishness.

Because he was burning. Were it not for the armor, the landing would have turned his organs to mush, and he would be half-dead. Not just burning. Burning.

Relax. With all this armor in between, it hasn't even reached me yet.

It was easier said than done (as the saying goes, everything is easier said than done, naturally), but he tried.

He crawled on the ground. Like a worm. He crawled forward, on all fours, amidst a frightened crowd running around like headless chickens. That was the symbol of the worst possible situation. Heroes, the PRT, were supposed to prevent situations like these. The public didn't need to know that someone as dangerous as Lung existed. It served no purpose.

They had been defeated and left him alone, so to speak. Hoping to put him behind bars in the future, naturally, but somewhat relieved. Because Lung was a monster without ambition. Content to be the leader of a bunch of small-time thugs. The Empire Eighty-Eight was a much bigger problem. It had been for a long time.

But now, this.

This.

Armsmaster broke open a fire hydrant on the side of the road with his bare hands. Water gushed out, drenching him. Dousing the flames. If he hadn't been there, well, he preferred not to think about that. He didn't like relying on luck, but sometimes there was no other choice.

He tried to take deep breaths. He had been close, but ultimately, he hadn't done much. His whole body hurt, and he had a couple of broken ribs, but it could be much worse. His armor was already injecting something to suppress the pain. Pain was a signal of danger, but ultimately, it was just a hindrance. He wished he could completely eradicate it. It was nothing but a waste of time.

Anyway, all in due time.

Armsmaster got up quickly, though not without effort. He had to lean on a nearby car to do it. Once on his feet, he stayed that way, however. It wasn't so bad. He could continue fighting... or rather, start, since he hadn't even had the chance yet.

But not without his halberd. Without his weapon, his tools. Would he have to retreat shamefully, without even doing anything? While...

He heard him. He swallowed hard. He instinctively knew it had to be him, as if he had been called by his thoughts. But still, looking up and seeing him flying in his shining armor like a Roman soldier, his shield and a thunderbolt in his hand, felt like being hit with a hammer in the chest. A pain deeper than the fall. By far.

Dauntless. What a joke of a name. Armsmaster, as a Tinker, had to work for what he had. Give blood, sweat, and tears. Give everything and more.

But Dauntless had been powerful from the start, and every day he became more powerful effortlessly, as natural as the sun rising in the morning, another law of the universe.

He was already powerful and would eventually become more powerful than anyone else, even Eidolon himself.

And all by luck.

Pure luck.

Dauntless was flying, shining in his armor and with the spear he carried, which seemed to be made of white electricity. With a lightning bolt in his hand. Like Zeus himself. A god among men, among...

Simple mortals.

Armsmaster's teeth chattered.

I'm unarmed, but it doesn't matter. I don't care at all.

—

Kazuya, smiling, watched his enemy grow and become even stronger. He just watched. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if it weren't a real problem.

Lung had reached the point where he measured about fifteen meters and looked like a true dragon. There was not a trace of humanity in his impenetrable body.

Or at least, that's what he was supposed to believe. Impenetrable, invincible. That was nonsense, of course. No one was invincible, not even Kazuya himself. Now I'll show you.

No, none of that.

He had already shown it. Lung had described his power clearly. He grew stronger the longer he fought, aiming to crush his enemies. The fact that his transformation was continuing without stopping was proof, if any were needed, that he couldn't handle him.

"Pathetic," said Kazuya.

Another explosion of fire. Kazuya didn't even bother to block. He let the flames pass through him without doing anything.

"Do you think getting bigger makes you stronger, faster? A better fighter? You're just an easier target."

Lung clawed at the earth with his huge claws. Ripping chunks and sending them flying. Again and again. Kazuya dodged the blows by jumping. He didn't even use his wings.

He punched him in the side of the face. He felt his jaw crunch, but he couldn't say he had broken it. He guessed that with a slack jaw, maybe that wasn't possible in the first place.

Next, Kazuya fired the laser, burning one of the creature's eyes, bursting it like a balloon.

He paid for it by receiving a swat that buried him into the wall of a nearby building. He felt the debris falling and the dust he breathed into his lungs.

He coughed forcefully several times.

Okay, getting bigger had only weakened him. But still, he should be careful of his physical strength.

It was a mistake, no, a mere oversight, but still, he would make sure it didn't happen again.

He barely managed to get out of the way before the fireball that would destroy the building arrived. He knew it before it started to collapse, that is, it was obvious. It was obvious that nothing could remain standing after that.

He preferred not to think about what it would have done to him.

It was absurd to even consider that possibility.

He had talked about no one being invincible, and it was true, of course. But that idea was very different from losing here. Not even against Heihachi, but against a stray wild dog he had randomly encountered in the alleyways. It was unthinkable. Unforgivable. Inconceivable.

Because he knew, he knew that without a doubt Heihachi would have killed this guy, so...

Nothing. He had only lost ground for the first time since the battle had begun. Nothing had happened yet. Panic? Was he panicking? Him, Kazuya Mishima, of all people? Him!

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous.

The explosion behind him tore him from his flight path, made him lose control.

And end up in the dragon's claws.

He grabbed him, slammed him into the ground.

Kazuya bounced like a rag doll.

He gasped, feeling the blood rising in his throat. He couldn't recover in time, before what happened. Lung spread his wings, which had grown proportionally to his huge body. Somehow, the air lifting didn't push him away, didn't send him flying far, but rather drew him toward Lung and kept him suspended in the air.

Suspended.

Defying the laws of gravity.

While a fireball formed above Lung's head. It grew larger and larger, expanding like a miniature sun.

Lung delivered a double kick to Kazuya's chest, and he felt as if all his ribs had exploded at once. But, of course, that wasn't the worst of what awaited him. Not by a long shot. The fall wouldn't be pleasant, but he wasn't talking about that, naturally.

The fireball was a 'projectile' so large that there was no way Lung could miss.

Even if he recovered in the air, even if he did everything possible to dodge it. He wouldn't make it in time. He knew it. He felt it in his bones. He would have to eat that attack... and overcome it.

Kazuya gritted his teeth as he fell, enveloped in his wings.

He would overcome it.

He was made for this.

—

Lung laughed victoriously.

In the state he was still in (it took him a while to revert), more than a laugh, it sounded like an earthquake in the depths of a cave.

Speaking of which...

That's what had happened to his opponent, more or less.

The blow would have left him half buried in the ground.

With the help of the explosive fireball, the ground had ceased to be an obstacle.

That's why this Kazuya had fallen into the depths of darkness. The bottom of the crater couldn't be seen, as if a bomb had been dropped.

Lung had defeated the enemy once again.

That's why he laughed.

Even if he could barely make it out of the darkness, he wouldn't be in a condition to fight.

But he wouldn't even be able to do that.

Who could have survived something like that?

He had gotten into trouble, not so much because of the massive property damage, but because of the deaths of several people. Civilians. In his current state, the ABB couldn't survive if the PRT went all out to crush them, seeing them as too dangerous.

It was a big game of tug-of-war to maintain the delicate balance between heroes and villains, a balance that, despite all efforts, was tilting toward the void anyway, but one couldn't simply do nothing.

But he couldn't care less at the moment.

Lung had won.

An absolute, indisputable victory.

It had been a long time since the last time he had felt so alive.

The Dragon's Flames: END