Chapter 131: The Seven-Headed Flame Serpent Lizard

Ever since Elder Basson had used a scrying spell two days earlier to witness Vess and the others escaping the pursuit of the hobgoblin wolf riders, Kotal had sentenced Vess to death in his heart. He had never imagined that the young exile would not only evade Elder Basson’s pursuit, but also summon a human force that ruined his grand design. The more he thought about it, the more furious he became.

“Demon’s son, Basson is waiting for you in the Inferno!”

Vess transformed all the hatred in his heart into murderous intent. Raising his hand, he hurled a Flame Strike at Kotal, who sat astride the seven-headed pyrohydra.

A golden pillar of fire erupted from beneath the beast’s feet, and the tremendous impact overturned the monstrous creature. Kotal, seated on its back, was engulfed in the flames. The demon’s half-infernal constitution enabled him to resist part of the fire’s damage, but Flame Strike was no ordinary fire spell. Within the golden blaze was a far more destructive force—holy energy that could not be resisted.

Kotal let out an anguished roar. Enduring the searing pain of the divine flames, he spread the pair of black demonic wings behind him and broke free of the pillar, taking flight toward the sky.

The instant Vess saw Kotal rise into the air, he made a casting gesture. He reached toward the heavens with an empty grasp, releasing invisible magic that seemed to form a vast net around Kotal. It bound the demon’s black wings tightly, preventing him from maintaining his flight and forcing him to glide toward the ground.

Vess pursued without hesitation. At that moment, his eyes held only the murderer of his father, and his mind contained only one thought: revenge.

George Vassar cast aside the broken shaft of the lance remaining in his hand and spurred his horse over the lizardman officer lying on the ground, dying with both hands clasped around the lancehead that had pierced his chest. His gaze fixed on Vess’s back. Worried that the young man, blinded by the thirst for vengeance, might rush too recklessly ahead, Vassar urged his horse into pursuit.

Major Green and Captain Daniel had been riding alongside Vassar all along. Seeing what had happened, they too drove their horses forward and joined the hunt for Kotal.

After entering the battlefield, Joanne and the others continued to fight as a coordinated unit. Dick and Tom Gray charged at the very front, while Roger and Joanne supported their companions from the rear with hunting rifles and spells. Jamie stayed close beside Joanne, preventing enemies from approaching his young master.

The four of them, together with the graybag beast and the half-blood winter wolf, worked in perfect harmony as they followed the three paladins deep into the enemy formation. Tom and Dick also wanted to join the pursuit of Kotal, the true culprit behind the slaughter, but they were a little too slow. By the time they arrived, both Kotal and Vess had vanished into the chaotic ranks, nowhere to be found.

Kotal’s mount, however—the seven-headed pyrohydra—clumsily hauled itself upright and vented all its rage upon the human youths before it. Its seven long necks writhed as its seven hideous heads opened their throats in unison and spewed torrents of flame.

Dick and Tom hurriedly raised their shields to block the oncoming fire. The hair on their bodies was scorched, filling the air with a pungent stench. Roger fired repeatedly, while Joanne launched magic missiles, doing everything he could to ease the pressure on Dick and Tom. Yet whether lead bullets or magical projectiles struck the enormous crimson beast, they produced nothing more than insignificant sprays of blood. The pyrohydra seemed to regard the attacks as no more than mosquito bites. It did not even bother to react, and its wounds healed visibly before their eyes.

What happened next was even more astonishing.

With a roar, the graybag beast Gray lifted a heavy cheval-de-frise and smashed it into the pyrohydra as it spewed flames. The blow staggered the monster. Gray seized the opportunity to pounce, grabbed one of its long necks, tucked the head beneath his arm, and hauled with all his strength. The neck tore apart with a sickening snap.

Gray fell backward onto the ground, still clutching the severed head. Across from him, the headless neck thrashed wildly, spraying blood as hot as molten lava. Flesh writhed across the stump, and in less than a minute an entirely new head had grown there. It bared a mouthful of fangs and lunged at the stunned graybag beast.

“Strike!”

Joanne promptly cast Greater Mage Hand. An invisible magical hand gripped a blade of lightning and drove it into the pyrohydra’s eye socket. The sudden agony forced the monster to thrash its head and shriek, temporarily forgetting to bite Gray. The graybag beast came to his senses and fled beyond the reach of the pyrohydra’s seven long necks, then shouted his gratitude to Joanne.

“Thank you!”

Joanne answered Gray with a bitter smile and turned back toward the pyrohydra. As he had expected, the eye he had just destroyed was already healing.

The scene before him seemed strangely familiar. It reminded Joanne of the troll he had encountered beside Frostless Lake two months earlier, a creature that possessed a nearly immortal regenerative constitution. The seven-headed pyrohydra was far more difficult to deal with than that troll, but Joanne suspected that the two monsters’ regenerative abilities might share similar weaknesses.

The troll had feared flames and strong acid. If its wounds were burned or corroded with powerful acid, it lost the ability to regenerate. By the same logic, strong acid would probably also prevent the pyrohydra from regrowing severed limbs. Fire, however, was out of the question. This creature was clearly a fire-aspected magical beast, naturally immune to all forms of fire damage.

None of Joanne’s spells possessed an acid aspect, but he could use the mythic archmage ability Energy Substitution to convert a spell of another aspect into acid. Before that, however, there was another problem: his spell level was too low. Even if he exhausted every spell slot he possessed and expended all his mythic power, he still could not inflict a lethal wound upon the enormous pyrohydra.

“Looks like I have no choice but to use that move.”

Joanne first rummaged through his satchel and took out the fully charged Branch of Yggdrasil. After a moment’s thought, he also retrieved the potion of fire resistance he had taken from the soul thief. He uncorked it and drank it in one swallow. A refreshing coolness immediately spread throughout his body.

Once fully prepared, Joanne activated the power of the Branch of Yggdrasil. His lean body was enveloped in golden radiance, and in an instant he transformed into a treant as tall as the seven-headed pyrohydra. He strode forward, seized two of the beast’s necks with both hands, and roared as he heaved the giant monster off its feet and slammed it onto the ground.

The pyrohydra struggled desperately while its remaining five heads turned toward the treant and spewed fire. The treant’s trunk and limbs were made of wood and should, in theory, have been exceptionally vulnerable to flame. Thanks to the potion Joanne had swallowed beforehand, however, the damage caused by the fire was greatly reduced. Only a small portion of his branches and leaves caught fire, and the flames had yet to spread to his trunk.

Joanne had no intention of wasting the expensive potion. He raised a massive foot formed from countless intertwined roots and drove it down with all his strength. The kick sent the pyrohydra rolling onto its back. Joanne immediately pounced upon it and began hammering its soft belly with both fists.

His enormous fists crashed down upon the pyrohydra’s abdomen like a rainstorm. Every time one struck, all seven of the beast’s heads shrieked in agony, spraying blood toward the sky. Molten-hot, viscous blood poured down in torrents, as though a rain of fire had begun to fall from the heavens, setting the surrounding grass and trees ablaze.