I stared at the limping, moving mountain of a dragon, its scales glimmering white, like iridescent pearls glimmering underneath a faint sunlight, despite the damage it'd sustained to its hide. Splinters of bone erupted from its skin, piercing through muscle and scale alike, ribs jutting out of its chest. Its wings lay broken and tattered, the leathery membrane between each enlarged and lengthened finger torn and shredded. Its tail was bent at an odd angle in several places, its spiked edge dangling like a loose branch over a rotting tree. The numerous spines and spikes across its ridged back were similarly broken – not to mention the absolute searing it received when Nightfury burnt its shit right off with that plasma beam attack. Hissing, steaming, smoking blood poured from its nose and mouth, which was odd since I thought that was only for regular dragons, but I guess even air conditioners generated plenty of internal heat – probably even more than heaters, honestly.
Not sure where I was going with that comparison, but... eh.
Despite all that should've killed it, however, the Ice Dragon was very much clinging on to life. Though, I was pretty sure it would die very soon, unless it had a healing factor or some other X-Men shit, since the same bones that'd broken through its scaly, iridescent hide almost certainly would've pierced and damaged several of its organs on their way out.
I approached the dragon cautiously, its immense bulk still looming over the frozen wasteland despite its grievous injuries. Every step it took sent cracks spiderwebbing through the ice beneath its weight, a reminder that even in its broken state, this creature was still a force of nature. The ground trembled as it dragged itself forward, its breath coming in ragged, wheezing gusts that sent clouds of mist billowing into the air.
The beast's eyes, once cold and unfeeling like the depths of a glacier, now flickered with a faint, desperate light. It was a mix of fear, pain, and a primal urge to survive, no matter the odds. Nightfury circled overhead, his shadow passing over the wounded dragon like the specter of death itself. The Ice Dragon flinched every time that shadow crossed its vision, as if it knew that another attack from above would be its end.
I stopped just out of reach of its shattered maw, watching the creature's labored movements. There was something almost pitiable about it now—a majestic beast brought low by forces beyond its understanding or control. It wasn't often that I felt sympathy for a monster, but seeing this creature, beaten and broken, fighting to cling to life in a world that was rapidly slipping away from it, stirred something within me.
"You're not going to last much longer," I said softly, knowing it couldn't understand me. The words were more for myself than for the dragon. "But maybe... maybe you don't have to die like this."
The thought of using [True Resurrection] on the Ice Dragon had crossed my mind, and the idea was growing more appealing by the second. Little-Cloud needed a mount, something that could match her in power and stature, and this dragon—this hulking, frost-covered leviathan—could be just the thing. But there were risks. [True Resurrection] had worked on Little-Cloud, but she was humanoid, a being with a soul—if a twisted and corrupted one. What would happen if I tried the same spell on a creature like this? Would it revert to some primordial form? Would it become something entirely new, just as Little-Cloud had?
Then again, what else could it have been? Unlike the Others, dragons were just dragons – dead or alive. But, then again, I wasn't sure. But I was curious enough to find out.
Nightfury, sensing my intent, let out a low growl of warning through our bond. He wasn't afraid, not exactly, but he was wary. This was uncharted territory, even for him. I could feel his reluctance to share the skies with another dragon, especially one that had been an enemy mere moments ago. But he trusted me, and I knew that he would follow my lead, whatever I decided.
"Let's see if I can make something of you," I murmured, stepping closer to the dragon. Its eye rolled to focus on me, the light within flickering once more. Was it recognition? Understanding? I couldn't tell, but it didn't matter. I raised my hand, gathering the magic within me, feeling it pulse through my veins like liquid fire. First and foremost, however, this thing had to die. "This won't hurt... much."
I turned to Nightfury, who already knew what I had in mind as he plummeted from the sky and landed right on the Ice Dragon's neck with the force of a meteor, breaking bone and ripping flesh in a single crash. The gigantic beast of legend was decapitated, the life leaving its eyes as a monstrous tongue jutted right out of its open maw, hissing, steaming blood pouring like waters and melting ice and snow, creating a soft mist around us. A few meters away, Little-Cloud looked on with fervor as Nightfury used his tail to push the decapitated head closer to me. "Thanks, boy."
Growling, Nightfury tore off a chunk of the Ice Dragon, chewed, and swallowed – probably out of spite. Our bond told me that Nightfury could not stomach the idea of a challenger. Fair enough. The Fatalis was, quite literally, the most powerful monster in Monster Hunter, oldest and angriest. I had to wonder how a normal one became a Crimson or White Fatalis, because it'd be pretty cool of Nightfury could evolve even further, becoming even stronger. Not that it was necessary, since the both of us were the strongest in this world – I think – but I didn't want to take any chances, in case the Drowned God turned out to be Cthulhu or the Great Other turned out to have a physical avatar or some shit.
Eh, not much to do about those things but wait and see if they were true – be really cool if they were, though.
I reached out and placed my right hand on the Ice Dragon's severed head.
"[True Resurrection]," I said, letting the spell flow from me, my voice reverberating through the ice and snow like a command that the very world itself could not ignore.
The effect was immediate. The dragon's severed head snapped back and rejoined the stump that was its neck. It's body convulsed, seizing up as the magic took hold. A wave of energy surged through its broken form, and I watched in awe as the shattered bones began to knit themselves back together, the torn flesh and muscle weaving and mending as if time itself was reversing. Iridescent scales grew in large patches, almost sprouting from nothing, across the breadth of its otherwise majestic hide. The jagged ribs retracted into its chest, the spines along its back straightened, and the tattered wings began to reform, the shredded membrane smoothing out until it was whole once more. The ground shook as the titanic beast slowly pushed itself up to a standing pose, its gargantuan feet crushing through solid rock and ice and snow.
The dragon let out a deafening roar, the sound echoing across the frozen wasteland like a thunderclap. But this was not a roar of pain or fear—it was a roar of rebirth, of power renewed. The dragon's scales, once iridescent white, now shimmered with a faint bluish glow, as if the ice itself had infused into its very being – pearls and ice. Its eyes, too, had changed; where once they were cold and lifeless, they now burned with an intense, blue fire, a flame that refused to be extinguished, like sapphires exposed to starlight. Okay, maybe I was being a little dramatic with the comparisons there, but it definitely looked a little different now. As with Little-Cloud, the real differences were very subtle, but also noticeable if one bothered to look a little closer. All the same, I'd say it now looked more alive than before.
Not sure how that worked, but it was safe to assume that this dragon was corrupted by the Great Other, just like Little-Cloud's people, who were transformed into the Others. To be honest, the very concept of an Ice Dragon made little sense to me, unless some uber magic was involved, which it definitely was. I mean, a normal dragon doesn't make much sense, either, since their bodies would be way too heavy to be carried by their wings, unless – yep, you guessed it – uber magic was involved.
Eh, whatever. Not like Necromancy's any different.
I took a step back, marveling at the creature before me. This was no longer the same Ice Dragon that had limped away from Nightfury's attack. This was something new, something greater. The magic of [True Resurrection] had done more than just heal its wounds—it had transformed it, just as it had transformed Little-Cloud. I had to wonder, then, if it had earlier been an Other equivalent of a Dragon, having existed for thousands upon thousands of years, instead of dying after a few centuries like the usual dragons. A few fan theories – and actual in-universe speculations – posited that these scaly fire-breathing weapons of mass destruction kept growing until they died. Such a thing would explain why this behemoth was much much larger than what was probably the norm for dragons.
The dragon turned its gaze to me, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of uncertainty. Would it recognize me as its savior? Or would it see me as just another threat to be obliterated? My connection with Nightfury told me that the good boy was ready to pounce at any moment, having taken off earlier and hovered just above, ready to plummet like a meteor once more, waiting only to see if the Ice Dragon would attack me or not. Still, I walked up to the Ice Dragon and stared it in the eyes, our gazes locking. I wasn't entirely sure what it thought of me in that moment, but I did not detect even the faintest hint of malice or aggression.
But then, slowly, the behemoth of a dragon lowered its massive head and then its entire body, bowing to me in a gesture of submission and respect, kind of like a huge dog.
I grinned, unable to hide my satisfaction.
"Welcome back to the world of the living," I said, reaching out to touch the dragon's snout. The scales were cold to the touch, but beneath that coldness, I could feel the pulse of life, strong and steady. It was a strange thing. I was pretty sure the Ice Dragon was able to keep its ice powers somehow, even after the taint of the Great Other was removed from its blood. Beneath its frozen skin was the heat of life, hotter than any forge or fire. And yet its breath was colder than winter. It was basically an air conditioner on wings. But, instead of spitting cold air, it spat out some shit that was colder than liquid nitrogen.
I wondered, briefly, if it still had the power to summon frozen storms or if that ability came with and was lost after the Great Other's corruption was purged.
Little-Cloud approached, her eyes wide with something approaching awe as she took in the sight of the newly resurrected dragon. She reached out a hand, and the dragon lowered its head further, allowing her to rest her palm against its snout. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and I knew immediately that she was attached to this beast. She spoke and I understood. This beast, White Shadow, had been with her since she was a child, before the Great White came and corrupted her and her people. White Shadow had been an egg, then, hatching at the command of the Great White's cold magic.
They'd been inseparable ever since.
Nightfury landed behind me, all fire and fury. White Shadow was at least five times bigger than him, but the Ice Dragon was quick to show submission. Well, that's a Fatalis for you. The good boy wanted to remind the much bigger boy of the pecking order, that he was greater and stronger, possessing authority over it. Luckily, White Shadow understood perfectly. After all, they'd fought once before and the Ice Dragon lost quite badly.
"I guess that's it, then," I shrugged, turning my head to the south. "Now what?"
AN: Chapter 38 is out on (Pat)reon!