As the red potion took effect, Talom felt his bloodlines begin to mutate. This transformation was somewhat akin to that of the Savage Shields, but there were additional, more profound changes. His body swelled like a balloon, growing to nearly five meters in height. His armor shattered under the strain, and his boots tore apart as sharp claws burst forth. His skin turned red, large horns sprouted from his head, and his face elongated into a maw filled with rows of teeth. An additional pair of massive, spiked arms, complete with bone plating and crab-like pincers, grew from his back.

Now, Talom was unrecognizable from the handsome middle-aged man he once was.

"Lord Talom, you—" his adjutant began in horror.

"Take what's left of the troops and retreat. Save as many as you can!" Talom barked, flinging his subordinate into the distance with a controlled throw.

The adjutant, teeth gritted, glanced between Talom and the distant black dragon before leading a few soldiers deep into the jungle.

After issuing his command, Talom stared frenziedly at Salron. "Dragon, I will tear you to pieces!" His voice was a hoarse bellow emanating from his gaping maw.

Salron had already ceased his killing spree, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Demonspawn!" he recognized, drawing from the ancestral memories of true dragons. This creature before him was indeed a demonspawn, a descendant of demons.

In the prime material world, it was not uncommon for powerful demons to cross planes and wage war. In rare cases, some demons would mate with humans, giving birth to hybrid offspring with lineage from both sides. These hybrids were known as demonspawn!

It was no wonder Salron found the aura of those warriors familiar; they too had been implanted with demonic blood through some means to awaken their power. But the man before him was different; his ancestry must include a pure-blooded demon and human, and unlike the original demonspawn, his demonic blood was not as concentrated, allowing him control over it.

However, Salron was puzzled. The nature of a demonspawn wasn't typically like this. They were creatures whose temperament could be likened to that of the chromatic dragons, believing without doubt that they were born to rule over mortals, viewing all as mere insects.

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It was said that a bored noble once performed an experiment, raising a demonspawn in a kind human family. Yet the demonspawn's inherent evil became apparent early on; for their own gain, they would not hesitate to kill even their foster parents. Inciting revolts in towns was second nature to them.

Yet here was this man, willing to sacrifice himself for the mere thirty-something human soldiers that remained. He must have used the potion to suppress his human lineage and bring forth his demonic blood. But such forced invocation of the demonic form was dangerous. During battle, his demonic blood would be constantly depleted, leading eventually to bloodline exhaustion and death.

"Die!" Talom roared, lunging forward with all the fury of his awakened heritage.

Talom charged forward, silent now, his actions speaking volumes. He knew the history of the Woltan family better than anyone—demonspawn or otherwise. The warrior’s energy within him morphed into a black force, pulsing with a sinister aura.

Salron met Talom’s charge with a deafening roar, focusing his Wild Scream directly onto his adversary. Visible sound waves assaulted Talom, disrupting his demonic energy and halting his skills mid-action. He seemed to go deaf in an instant.

Then, as swift as lightning, Salron's tail struck, sending Talom crashing into the jungle, shattering countless trees with his colossal form.

Without giving Talom much chance to recover, Salron’s atomic furnace powered up, emitting a searing blue-white beam that scored a direct hit on Talom. The dragon ceased his breath after ten intense seconds, leaving the surroundings charred and blackened.

When the smoke cleared, Talom's battered form emerged. One of his eyes had been burnt out, and only one and a half of his four arms remained—the rest had been sacrificed to protect his vital areas. But even Talom's demonic constitution couldn't fully withstand such intense heat.

It didn’t surprise Salron that his foe wasn’t reduced to ashes. “What kind of monster are you?” Talom wondered, barely able to comprehend that his opponent could be a black dragon. No black dragon he knew of had the power to disrupt spellcasting or breathe such fire.

“If anyone’s the monster, it’d be you,” Salron remarked, intrigued. He watched as Talom's wounds rapidly healed, and even his severed limbs began to regrow—a sight reminiscent of Wolverine from the old movies.

“Come at me again!” he challenged.

Talom met Salron's advance, his newly-regenerated limbs ready for battle. Salron refrained from using his breath this time, needing a moment to recharge after the last powerful blast.

With a guttural roar more beast than man, Talom welcomed the close combat. He was a top warrior of the Woltan family, now amplified by demonic vigor. He refused to believe his combat skills were inferior.

Running swiftly, Talom aimed a side attack at Salron's belly, expecting a sliding tackle to end the dragon. True dragons typically had softer underbellies, but Salron's defenses had no weaknesses.

“Fracture!” Salron invoked Draconic magic, causing earthen spikes to erupt from the ground around Talom, who suddenly felt his body grow heavy, his speed reduced. “Earth fusion magic?” Talom’s pupils shrunk in disbelief.

“Fireball!” came the next spell from Salron. More than ten massive fireballs, each around four meters in diameter, manifested around him. They hurtled towards the astonished Talom, exploding on impact.

When the flames dissipated, Talom, now reduced to a torso, struggled on the ground, his demonic bloodline trying desperately to regenerate.

Suddenly, Salron appeared behind Talom and bit down hard.

Crunch—Talom’s head separated from his body as Salron’s armor-piercing teeth shattered his remains. A dose of corrosive saliva ensured nothing was left but the head.

With bloodshot eyes, Talom’s head stared at Salron. “See if you can regenerate now. This is close combat,” Salron taunted, standing over Talom's disembodied head.