The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 259: Killing the black dragon

”Jolthar!” Johammaʼs voice cut through his pain. She was still fighting, still resisting Lodawg.

The dragon advanced slowly, savouring its advantage. Blood flowed from its head wound, one eye half-closed from the proximity of Joltharʼs strike. But it was still terribly, lethally powerful.

Jolthar stood up, controlling his breathing. He wasnʼt done yet.

The dragon was fifteen feet away now, inhaling for what would surely be a killing blast of flame.

Jolthar closed his eyes, looking inward, stirring his voidwrath again.

The dragon released its inferno.

Joltharʼs eyes snapped open, glowing with silver light. He raised his left hand, palm outward. The silver light coiled around his arm like a living thing, and it happened so fast. In an instant, his hand had been transformed into a silvery limb, shimmering with an ethereal glow.

And then he cut the flames with his left hand.

The flames parted around him, diverted by the voidwrath. The silver energy surged through him, and the green energy was healing his wounds at a slower pace.

The long blade still glowing with blue and silver light, hummed with power.

The dragon halted its advance, ancient instincts recognizing a fundamental shift in the battleʼs dynamics. The dragon stared at the blade, particularly wary of the silver energy.

For the first time, uncertainty showed in those golden eyes.

”You are one stubborn lizard; do you know that?” Jolthar said in a simple tone.

He stepped forward, moving with newfound grace despite his recent injuries. The silver energy flowed through him, around him, an extension of his very being.

The dragon gathered itself, muscles bunching for a desperate lunge. It sprang forward, jaws wide, claws extended—committing everything to this final attack.

Jolthar didnʼt dodge.

He met the charge head-on, Knashii describing an impossible arc through the air. The blade, extended by a silver-threaded blue aura, passed through the dragonʼs neck with minimal resistance.

Time seemed to freeze.

Dragon and man hung suspended in the moment of truth.

Then the massive head slid free from its body, both parts continuing forward with momentum before crashing to the ground on either side of Jolthar. He stood untouched between them, Knashii gleaming clean despite its lethal work.

The silver energy receded slowly.

The dragon had fallen.

He just stood there, watching the dead dragon. His breath coming out in ragged breaths. He knew it wasnʼt over, and thatʼs when he heard the sound of an explosion.

As he turned to the sound, he saw the explosion, creating a dust of smoke and a crater on the ground. The water from the lake was flowing into the crater.

Through the smoke, he spotted them—robed figures moving with practiced precision, the distinctive crimson sigils of the Naemarys Mage Corps emblazoned on their shoulders.

Elite spellcasters, each commanding magic that could level small settlements.

They surrounded Johamma in a heartbeat, their hands weaving complex patterns that tore at reality itself.

A black circle manifested beneath her feet, pulsing with malevolent energy. From its depths, writhing tentacles of shadow erupted, coiling around her limbs and torso, binding her in place.

They were holding her down, their tentacles wrapped around all her limbs.

Johamma was injured, and she had a hard time trying to free herself from them.

Green energy flared around Jolthar as the Beast Kingʼs power responded to his rage.

He held the Knashii— the swordʼs edge gleamed with a hungry blue light as he charged forward.

Three strides brought him to Johammaʼs side. Knashii sang through the air, its edge enhanced by the blue aura of his swordsmanship. The blade sliced through the shadowy tentacles as though they were silk, each cut releasing bursts of noxious energy that dissipated into the air.

Johamma collapsed to one knee, blood seeping through her robes where the tentacles had pierced flesh. Yet her eyes remained defiant.

Jolthar came to her support. He helped her stand as he looked at the mages.

”You need to fall back,” Jolthar said, seeing her state.

”I can still fight,” she growled, the proud woman of the Kaezhlar clan even in her wounded state.

”You are going to get yourself killed,” Jolthar said, his gaze on the mages surrounding them.

Lodawg, remaining behind, gazed at the dead dragon sprawled on the ground. Growing impatient, he summoned the mages. He had come prepared, resolute in his intent to eliminate both of them.

From atop the ridge, Lodawg Naemarys applauded, slow and mocking, seemingly unconcerned by the dragonʼs corpse sprawled before him.

”Well done, young man, well done,” he called, face alight with cruel amusement. ”Shall we start the main battle now?”

Joltharʼs eyes narrowed, silver voidwrath coiling around his left hand while his right maintained its grip on Knashii. He sensed the trap unfolding—Lodawg was too pleased, too confident despite losing his dragon mount.

The mages regrouped swiftly, forming a wider circle. Their hands moved in unison, drawing sigils in the air that burned with unholy light. A larger binding circle began to form, this one designed to ensnare both Jolthar and Johamma.

They never completed the spell.

Jolthar raised his left hand, green energy erupting from his palm in a controlled wave. Eight tier-8 mages—powerful enough individually to command respect in any court—found themselves suddenly weightless, their bodies lifted high into the air by telekinetic force. They struggled against the invisible grip, face masks slipping to reveal expressions of shock and terror.

With a flick of his wrist, Jolthar hurled them toward Lodawg, their bodies tumbling helplessly through space. As they flew, he raised Knashii and channeled the blue aura of his swordsmanship through the blade.

The sword responded, vibrating with accumulated power before releasing it in a series of arcing blue crescents that cut through the air with devastating precision. Each arc intercepted a mage mid-flight, detonating on impact in brilliant explosions of blue energy.

They were all thrown towards Lodawg, which caught him off guard, and the follow on attacks made him stumble backwards. One after the other, the bodies fell towards him, and the blue crescents followed behind. There was a continuous explosion.