The following conversation went as well as one might expect. The crown prince should only kneel to the king. The crown prince should never prostrate himself, much less to his future subjects.
After many embarrassing and awkward exchanges—Arthur repeated thousands of times that he regretted it, it wouldn't happen again, and he was thankful for the three people's care—they all sat on armchairs. Somehow, Arthur went from prostrating on the ground, begging for their forgiveness, to sitting in front of all three in a clear position of hierarchical power.
"Sit beside me," he asked Sophie for the hundredth time.
"I wouldn't dare even if I were betrothed to you, Archie," she replied at once.
It was scandalous for her to sit beside him when he was in a position of authority, like now. Only one's wife—or husband—was allowed to do that.
Of course, this was an informal setting. It wouldn't be a real issue for her to get closer. However, Tamara had a saying: "Practice breeds habit, and habit turns into scandals." If Arthur and Sophie became used to doing something in private that would be improper in public, they might slip up in the future.
The prince sighed and turned to Graham. "Drink the limb-regrowing potion," he commanded.
Contrarily to Tamara's expectations, the knight—who had put a new grand knight armor on—nodded, removed his helmet, took a glowing light blue potion from his spatial storage, and downed it.
The prince raised a curious eyebrow. "No trying to convince me otherwise? Something along the lines of it being wasteful?"
"Sire, your trait and skills are better than this potion. It makes no difference to you. It has become your resource to distribute as you see fit."
Technically, it was the king's resource, but Arthur wasn't about to argue against himself.
He knew from his studies that one potion wouldn't be enough for Graham. Arthur's own Vital Regeneration trait would let him regrow a long limb—arm, leg—over a period of one year. His neck scar was also long gone. Unfortunately, the potion was as good and remained in the drinker's system for a limited time, depending on their vitality. Vitality protected against any foreign substance, not just poison. When a substance wasn't harmful to the body, it took longer to be neutralized, but it always was in the end.
Not that Arthur could understand how a potion's effects could stay around on anyone's body for longer than the liquid took to be biologically assimilated. His studies didn't go deep into alchemy, and his life element was only secondary, so he had no affinity with it or any bonus to learning related things.
With 200 vitality, Graham's body would take about two months to neutralize the potion. The man had lost everything from the knee below on a single leg. It would take around a year—and six potions—to regrow only that.
"Do you have enough potions?" Arthur asked.
"His Royal Majesty provided us with thirty, milord. There are twenty-nine, now."
So few. They were as expensive as Tamara had said.
"Good," Arthur said. "I want your leg regrown by the time we leave this dungeon. You're a strong asset to the kingdom's military. Speaking of which, you're still level sixty-eight, meaning you didn't break the soul vow you made to protect me. How is that possible? You knew what you were doing when you chose words to push me to the brink. You reportedly also didn't fight as fiercely to stop me from leaving this room."
The knight seemed surprised at the question. Then, he smiled sadly. "Believe it or not, Your Highness, I was torn between my vow and my respect for you."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. That was curious. "Elaborate."
"My prince, I received information from His Royal Majesty on Royal Decree that convinced me that doing what I did would be the best for you. I fully believed it. Therefore, I broke no vow."
Arthur nodded. While keeping a vow intact due to good intentions sounded simple, it was anything but. There was no arguing with or tricking magic or Fate. The vower had to fully believe they were doing the right thing, with no shadow of a doubt, to have that "leeway."
It also wasn't absolute. Despite the intent, if the end results of one's actions went directly against one's vows, it would count as breaking the vow. For instance, if Arthur actually died, Graham's intentions and beliefs wouldn't matter. He would've paid the price.
Arthur insisted, "Yet you didn't try as hard to stop me."
"As I said, I respect you, Prince Boria. It muddled my judgment," he said with shame. "I have lived for a long time on the battlefield. I have seen veterans that chose to depart this world after experiencing too much. I also... intimately understand how sometimes it feels like the only way out is doing something everyone disagrees with."
The last part sentence was about his fall. He had been willing to rekindle Charlotte's vampire blood to let her live longer.
"I'm also a knight, sire," the man continued. "If my superior can't stand this world any longer, who am I to stand in their way? Especially when I partly understand his pain. I wished to stop you as much as I wanted to respect your decision, whichever it might be. And... My wife, milord. What I went through with her..." There was a lot of pain in his tired, old eyes. "Sometimes, someone might be unable or unwilling to bear the cost of staying alive. She did. I respected her decision."
Tamara—back to her human mask because an unexpected visitor might appear at any time—fiercely disagreed with the knight's arguments. "This is nothing like what happened to your wife!" she suddenly shouted. "She had to kill innocents to survive!"
Graham kept his voice composed as he replied, "And His Highness's actions, which benefited him, could've led to the death of many innocents. Would you be feeling so strongly if someone planning mass murder decided to end their lives just before acting?"
"He wasn't planning anything! He made a mistake!"
"A mistake that originated from his selfish wishes—like a mass murderer might want to cleanse the world for the greater good or other nonsense. His Highness knows himself more than anyone. Who am I to disagree if he believes he's too dangerous to remain alive?"
"I know him better than even he does!" Tamara insisted. "He doesn't want to kill innocents! He only feels he's a failure because—" She stopped talking at once and widened her eyes in shock as she looked at the prince.
Arthur had long learned that high mind stats didn't make one immune to their feelings or incapable of making mistakes. Tamara had just exposed Arthur's innermost fears, which he had confided to her in their sessions, to everyone.
"What?" Graham asked, shocked, as he turned to look at the very embarrassed Arthur, who avoided the man's eyes.
Indeed, he had almost killed everyone in the room because he knew he was a waste of breathing air. He didn't even resent Tamara for spilling the beans. After what he had done, censuring her for not hiding the root cause from everyone would be egotistical.
Moments later, to everyone's astonishment, Graham laughed. He laughed loudly and unrestrained.
"A seventeen-year-old level 91 awakener is a failure!" the grand knight yelled, then laughed harder. He slapped his armchair's arm with little restraint, and the thing broke down into splinters. "The man with the highest level I have ever met! The strongest man I have ever met, too! An awakener who only used one extension stone until now! He! He is a failure! A failure!" he kept laughing. "That's a good one! A good one!"
Yet, the more he laughed, the more twisted his face became. His laughs ended up turning into tears. By the end, the man was sobbing.
"A failure," he cried. "If any biomancer in the kingdom were such a failure, they could've removed my wife's curse. If I were such a failure, I wouldn't have gotten injured when I went for the Whispering Witch. I wouldn't have messed up while capturing her. I wouldn't have let her force me to kill her or die myself. Charlie... She could be here. She could be alive. If only I was such a failure..."
He rested his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands.
"She died because I'm weak. So weak that I can no longer protect the man I'm supposed to protect. So weak I couldn't protect my family. If His Highness is a failure, what am I?" He sobbed. "What am I?"
After giving the man some time for himself, Arthur answered softly, "You're the man Charlotte loved and believed in. This Fatedamned dungeon twists the importance we give even to our most cherished memories. Remember the amazing woman Charlotte was. If she believed in you, that should be enough for you." He paused, then added with teary eyes. "It should've been enough for me."
There was only a long silence after that.
Graham eventually composed himself, nodded to the prince, and put his helmet back on. Arthur nodded back, took a deep breath, and moved on with the conversation to remove a little of his knight's embarrassment.
"I have decided to attempt to kill the dragons," he declared.
"You should grow stronger first, Prince Boria," the grand knight objected. "At least another level."
Arthur shook his head. "No. I have one year left. If I can kill the dragons, I'll grind them. It might bring me to the upper-90s level range. It likely wouldn't, though; there are too few of them. But they are my best bet, and I want to grow as strong as possible with my remaining time."
He didn't mention that knowing a seer prophesied him to reach level 100 gave him a new drive to try his best. If he did, Graham would know Tamara had spied on his orders. She had done it for Arthur's protection, and letting everyone know about your spy's actions was stupid at best.
Admittedly, she wasn't a perfect spy; she had just revealed sensitive information about him. But the nine years in isolation had to be getting to everyone, not just Arthur. He was simply the one who took it the worst.
Graham wasn't convinced. "Your Highness, I must insist. It's too dangerous. If you die here, everything you achieved will be for naught."
Sophie also looked at him with worry.
To everyone's surprise, Tamara supported Arthur. "His Highness' words make sense, Grand Knight. For more reasons than one."
"What do you mean, Head Maid?" the grand knight asked.
His voice was brisk. He didn't know Tamara had spied on him but felt embarrassed for not noticing the women's training. Graham was built for the battlefield, not counter-espionage or anything related, but he had served as a guard in important areas before.
Instead of explaining herself, Tamara turned to Arthur, "Master, would you be willing to make a soul vow stating you won't put yourself at unnecessary risk when fighting the dragons?"
Graham stood up. "How dare you demand a vow of the crown prince?!"
Arthur frowned. To begin with, that was a highly illegal action. Soul vows had been exploited in the past to control awakeners. Nowadays, only the king could ask anyone to make a vow; even then, it was considered improper outside specific situations.
Tamara's words were as scandalous as the grand knight's answer suggested. Requesting something illegal from your own master, especially something like this, went against everything Tamara had taught Arthur about propriety.
Paradoxically, Tamara being the one to teach him about it made the prince feel she had a good reason to disregard good customs.
"I'm willing," Arthur replied, though he still didn't make the vow.
He wanted to see where this went first. He would just refuse if she demanded a vow of him without explanation.
Tamara ignored Graham. "Then, master, are you willing to vow that no matter what I reveal, you won't take any more risks against the dragons than you're currently willing to take?"
Graham trembled in rage and stepped closer to the maid.
Arthur raised a hand to stop his knight and started into Tamara's eyes. "Yes, I'm willing," the prince agreed again.
She nodded and smiled slightly. "Thank you for putting up with my questions, master. Your assurance and recent... episode make me confident you won't seek your own death in the near future or bite more than he can chew out of desperation. In that case, I can reveal one thing I was told by His Royal Majesty in my own nine-year mail."
So she had also received something. Arthur turned to Sophie. "Did you also get any correspondence?" His suitress shook her head. The prince turned back to his battle maid. "Well? What did my father say?"
Tamara answered. "His Royal Majesty revealed this dungeon is special in more ways than one. The dungeon core has attained sentience and is a coward. If you reach the core room, you can access a special area where you can fight an endless stream of level 95 monsters one at a time."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Arthur was astonished. "What?!"
The prince's mind spun with implications.
That dungeon... What a treasure it was! If it wasn't for it requiring expensive potions to delve, or else it might overflow, it might be able to mass-produce high-level awakeners!
He wondered if his father had also visited it in the past. Was that how the king had reached level 81?
He was curious about Tamara's and Graham's letters, but being the subject of at least part of them didn't make it right to demand to read them, just as he wasn't entitled to knowing what everyone talked or thought about him. They were allowed their privacy.
Almost as importantly, Graham's Royal Decree contained excerpts of prophecies about Arthur. That was dangerous.
Knowing one's future would always affect them, regardless of whether they chose to do something about it. They would invariably make decisions with that knowledge in mind.
Even now, that Arthur knew so little, it made him strive harder to reach level 100. But who knows? It might also be leading him to his death out of misguided self-confidence.
And that was just from a possible future. There were many cautionary tales on the matter. The more he knew, the worse it became.
Ignorance was bliss in his case—and Tamara had likely controlled very well what she had told him.
Arthur said, "Well, that makes it. I have to get to this special area. No time like the present." He stood up. "Once we're there, Sophie can attack the monsters to level up, too. She's not a battle maid anymore, so I want her to grow as strong as possible. Tamara, I'm sure you received skill crystals for her, too, right?" She confirmed it. "I want you and Graham to review Sophie's build with her. I gained many crystals in these nine years, too; use them as you see fit."
"Yes, master."
"As you command, milord."
"Sophie?" the prince called. "Is that alright with you?"
She obviously feared for his life but nodded hesitantly. He smiled and turned to the next room.
"Let's go." He started walking. "Oh, and Graham, I have an idea: javelins."
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Arthur stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the last floor. One step more, and he would be forced to fight the dragons on floor 95.
Sophie, beside him, clenched his hand. It wasn't terribly proper for him to hold his suitress's hand on a walk, but it wasn't scandalous either. It might become a slightly bad habit, but he allowed himself such a pleasure.
After all, he wasn't a mindless puppet.
"Respect the local customs," Arthur's father had said in one of their meetings. "They are important for us to live in a civilized society. Many times, propriety is what sets us apart from monsters. But customs are not laws. You are your own man, with your own decisions to make. If a custom gets in your way, weigh the pros and cons and choose whether to ignore it. If you don't protect your interests but instead bow to customs every time, your enemies will use it against you, and you'll lose many of the things you treasure."
Arthur had proudly stated, "And I'll be king. A king shouldn't bow to anyone, not even customs."
The king kept his silence for a moment before agreeing. "Just so, son."
Therefore, Arthur had decided to hold hands with his suitress in public, no matter what anyone said.
"Be careful," Sophie whispered.
Arthur turned to her and smiled. "I will."
There was one thing he hadn't realized until now, but as he stared into her worried red eyes, he understood Sophie, maybe even more than the prophecies, was a big part of why he had decided to do his best.
Previously, even after kissing her, he had chosen the easy way out, ending his life. Now that his reason had returned and he knew better, he chose the more challenging but better way. If he reached level 100, he would have much more political clout to negotiate with his father to marry her.
The prince wanted to kiss her lips again but now also knew better than to do something so intimate in front of Tamara and Graham.
"Do it," he commanded Graham, and the knight started taking thousands upon thousands of metal swords, disks, javelins, and spheres from his spatial storage and throwing it on the ground.
The prince clenched Sophie's hand one last time, released it, then entered that floor's first room.
He knew she would be waiting for him. It would be a reminder of what he had to return to. A reason not to overextend himself.
Victorious or not, Arthur would come back to her.
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Twenty level 95 dragons could be seen in the gigantic cave chamber, either flying or resting, and their colors revealed their main elements.
There were 4 fire dragons, their color red—in League's dialect, they were firemancers;
3 life dragons, green—biomancers;
3 water dragons, light blue—aquamancers;
2 lightning dragons, dark blue—thunderbringers;
2 air dragons, white—aeromancers;
2 earth dragons, brown—geomancers;
1 dark dragon, black—a shadowbender;
1 light dragon, golden—a lightbender;
1 space dragon, purple—a shaper;
And 1 time dragon, silvery—a chronomancer.
Most of the mana in their bodies was the same color as their scales, but as monsters, they also had a secondary affinity at their level. An active one, instead of an awakener's skill affinity. These dragons' second element was always life. It made them physically strong and hard to kill.
The green ones were the most curious. They had no secondary affinity. Tamara guessed it meant they had found a way to push their biomancy to heights beyond the Fated Races' imagination. Graham, however, believed it had no special meaning. To him, dragons simply could only gain life as a secondary element, and green dragons were limited. Hopefully, it would be the latter.
That they needed to guess was one of the issues with this battle.
Tamara and Graham knew much about how far awakeners and weaker monsters could push any element. However, scholars had long theorized much grander possibilities. Just because they had never seen anyone accomplish those grand things, it didn't mean they were beyond the level 95 dragons in the room.
The firemancers, biomancers, aquamancers, thundercallers, aeromancers, and geomancers in the room weren't much of an issue. Those elements were quite limited even in their theoretical possibilities. But the four that had only one representative each were something else altogether: the shadowbender, the lightbender, the shaper, and the chronomancer.
Darkness was an elusive element. It was about hiding daggers in the shadows, a favorite of assassins and spies. There was no true tactic to fight them; one could only remain aware of their surroundings at all times. Awakeners had trouble wielding it, but monsters always used it creatively. What could a level 95 monster accomplish?
Light was about speed, illusions, and focused power. The greatest issue was the latter. A magic beam of condensed light could theoretically go through Arthur's defenses and kill him in a single hit before he could even think to dodge. In practice, no lightbender had ever been capable of creating such a marvel, only much weaker beams, but those were dragons.
Then, space. The shaper dragon might make the very space that Arthur was occupying collapse and kill him. There was no defending against it. Again, that was only theoretical; Graham couldn't do it and had heard of no awakener who could. Spatial storage subspaces were their practical limits. But who knew with dragons?
Lastly, time. Chronomancers in battle could make allies stronger or enemies slower. They might even stop time for a moment in a region. As for a dragon... What if it could stop Arthur in time until he was killed by the others? What if it could accelerate time for Arthur until his lifespan was spent?
The most dangerous part was their prehension. It was the most basic magic ability, yet one of the most dangerous. Spells could be dodged if Arthur was far enough, but an aeromancer could prehend the very air around him and wield it against him. As if that wasn't bad enough, a shaper could make space around him impossible to traverse. Or a biomancer could simply prehend with his body and break his neck or stop his heart.
Tamara's mind-related skills could be resisted only because they indirectly affected his mind. She had to focus on his body to accomplish anything. Sophie's half-monster abilities were the same.
Few things could prevent that. An intent string could freely go through any material or spell. As far as the Golden King knew, only two things could stop it: enchantments or the Intent Denial skill.
Arthur had obviously been given both. Just like a grand knight's armor, the first-class sorcerer's robe he wore could block incoming intent strings. The Intent Denial mana skill was weighted. It denied all foreign intent strings from getting into an area around him.
The skill wasn't absolute, though. Strong willpower would let an intent string pierce deeper and deeper into the denial region. Hopefully, the dragons wouldn't be strong enough for that.
Back when Arthur's build was discussed between his father and a few others, Intent Denial had been a candidate for S-tier but lost the contest. However, the prince had found enough skill crystals of the right kind to push it and a few others to S-tier in the past nine years. Currently, it denied intent strings up to fifty yards around him.
Maybe even more importantly, his Mana Reach trait and Improved Mana Reach S-tier skill let his intent strings go as far as 520 yards away from him. Hopefully, that would give him an edge over the dragons.
Apparently, he had to hope for many things to go his way if he wanted to win this fight.
Arthur jumped and kept himself afloat by prehending a few strategically placed pieces of metal he had placed throughout his body. He had practiced aerial combat to fight the dragons in the past months. Limiting himself to the ground while they flew freely would be the death of him, especially due to the geomancers. He could fly much faster than his body could run.
He deployed all his disks, spheres, and blades around him and flew deeper into the room.
Dragon or not, those were monsters, and the one thing Arthur was good at was killing monsters. Level 95 or not, he was already level 91. They weren't as far apart as before.
He could do it.
It was time to become a dragon slayer.
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The great flying behemoths made Arthur look like an ant.
They weren't all equal. Different colors mean different characteristics. The black shadowbenders were slim and long, the red firemancers were beefier, and the brown geomancers had a physique with less curves and more sharp corners. Arthur didn't pay much attention to their form beyond analyzing how that would affect the battle.
On average, he was about the size of one of their claws. That was very bad because he had to kill monsters that big. It was also very good because it limited how many could approach him at once.
Arthur stopped five hundred yards away from the entrance. Graham was still dumping weapons there, and the prince would need them. Nineteen dragons simply ignored him, but a red one approached.
Arthur could currently deploy five intent strings. He kept one focused on his flight and used the other four to each prehend dozens of javelins and cast spells on them.
He was done within a second. The throwing weapons released sonic booms as they shot ahead. Arthur prehended a new batch and cast spells on them, too.
Soon, dozens of waves of almost a hundred javelins were flying toward the dragon.
Arthur had targeted where its eyes would be if it kept flying straight at him. He had long perfected his combat calculations and estimations. He also sent a portion to some positions that most flying enemies he had fought usually dodged to.
Dragons had never been killed before, but they had been spotted. They were known for their arrogance. This one didn't even blink as the javelins came to its eyes, sure of its eyeballs' ability to resist them.
It had been very, very wrong.
Over seventy weapons in the first batch, enspelled for absolute penetration, pierced its eyes and went deep. They were also enspelled to explode a set distance after finding more resistance than mere air. Arthur had calculated it so they would blow it in the middle of the dragon's brain.
He succeeded.
The monster couldn't even roar in pain before the too-fast javelins exploded in shrapnel that was purposefully shaped for maximum damage.
If a nail as long as a fingernail pierced a human's brain and exploded inside, they would likely die. A dozen would certainly do the job. Brains were fragile like that.
Arthur was the size of a dragon's claw. While a dragon's proportions weren't the same as a human's, and its body was reinforced by the life element, it wasn't immortal. Especially not when it didn't even care to defend itself. There were also too many javelins.
One moment, the arrogant lizard was coming. The next moment, life left its bloody, torn eyes. Its wings stopped beating, and it started falling to the ground.
That was the signal for Graham to stop throwing weapons on the ground. He, Tamara, and Sophie turned tail and ran as deep into floor 94 as far as they could. If Arthur decided to escape, the dragons would follow, and only the time they would take to go through the narrow passage between floors would give him some time to reach his people and open a path for them to leave.
The huge corpse fell to the ground and shook everything. Arthur didn't feel proud. That one had been arrogant, but the next would be a little less so.
A moment after that dragon died, all dragons roared in rage and came flying at him.
They had started from different positions. The three spearheading their forces were a green biomancer, a white aeromancer, and a brown geomancer. Arthur threw more javelins at their eyes.
The green dragon enveloped his two companions with life mana, likely strengthening their bodies even further than usual. The brown dragon was too far from the ground to prehend the soil, so it breathed fire at the incoming javelins instead, a normal dragon ability. And the white dragon summoned a tornado in front of them.
Whenever opposing spells clashed, the winner became the party better prepared to counter the enemy's spell. Arthur had obviously prepared for the three elements.
His javelins were enspelled to resist external attempts to change their direction, and he had greatly increased their melting point. He also changed how much frontal resistance was enough to start the explosion timer.
His javelins kept going with little issue.
Fortunately, the geomancer did nothing to defend itself except spit dragon fire. Unfortunately, its actions made the weapons enter and pierce the top of its jaws instead of its eyes. The weapons didn't even go through the scales on top of its snout. They stopped there and exploded a moment later, causing flesh and bone to blow everywhere. It caused considerable damage but was not lethal.
The aeromancer was just as arrogant. It fully believed the tornado would set the projectiles' astray. It didn't. Its eyes were pierced—the extra defense from the biomancer was useless—and its brain was destroyed.
Lastly, the biomancer dodged. It flew upward. Three of Arthur's javelins had targeted that possibility, so while they pierced its brain and exploded, it wasn't lethal. At least the damage caused the dragon to stop flying and roar in pain as it fell from the skies.
The noseless geomancer was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye. The flesh was mending, and the bone was regrowing. It was incredible.
Arthur recalculated his next javelin wave and threw it at the enemy.
The biomancer died this time. Its brain was probably regenerating even faster than the geomancer, but it wasn't fast enough. It still hadn't recovered its mental faculties, and Arthur's javelins made short work of it.
The brown dragon wasn't convinced of its inferiority. It tried to use fire again. Even Arthur's best spell couldn't make his javelins pierce the dragon's scales, so he didn't try. This time, he had enspelled them so they would change directions if they met enough heat—which, in hindsight, he should've done from the start.
Dozens of javelins entered the dragon's mouth, went toward the monster's brain, pierced flesh and bone, entered its skull, and killed it.
Four down, sixteen to go.
That was just the warmup, though.
Now, it was time for the preliminary exchange.
Arthur had put enough mana in his javelins to keep them going for a long while. Waves upon waves of metal reached the incoming dragons. Most of them got out of the way, while a few simply covered their heads with their limbs. The prince's toothpicks could do nothing to the monsters' scales.
Dragons were arrogant monsters, but they weren't absolute morons. They had seen some of their kind die because of their hubris. They wouldn't remain defenseless.
Arthur had started attacking from a long distance. His javelins moved quickly, but not enough that the dragons couldn't dodge. The monsters had outstanding aerial speed and maneuverability.
Now that the group of three was gone, the closest dragons were a party of seven dragons: two light blue aquamancers, two dark blue thunderbringers, the golden lightbender, a green biomancer, and a red firemancer.
Arthur targeted them, but his javelins were mostly useless. The oversized lizards dodged or protected themselves with their scaly limbs. Only one aquamancer was arrogant enough to merely closed its eyes to protect himself. The prince's javelins went through the eyelids with some difficulty, but they did go through. They didn't go as deep into the monster's brain as he would've liked, but it still died when the weapons exploded.
The remaining six kept coming. Arthur kept throwing javelins at them—until he was out of it. Then, he swapped for metal spheres, which weren't as aerodynamic but better than swords.
The dragons were blessedly being more arrogant than he had expected, though. None counterattacked yet. It was a matter of pride to eat him instead of killing him from afar.
The prince used that against them. He threw spheres, which harmlessly hit their scales and exploded with no effect until the monsters got close enough. Then, he pretended to enspell some spheres. In truth, he moved them forth through prehension.
When the dragons reached five hundred yards away, he moved his spheres at will. They traveled faster than the speed of sound, and he had the mind stats to perceive them and move them accordingly.
They couldn't be dodged.
His hundred spheres went around wings or limbs on the way, pierced the six dragons' eyes, got deep into their brains, and killed them all.
Their huge bodies fell from the skies, hitting the ground almost simultaneously, making the entire cave tremble.
On the bright side, the lightbender had died without doing anything. On the other hand, the thunderlords, whom Arthur had an advantage against, were also gone.
Up until now, there had been no negative surprises. He had expected to do at least this much.
However, the easy part was over.
Nine dragons remained.
As dozens of spells came flying his way, it was evident that the real battle started now.