Chapter 182: "...Dont come complaining later." (1/2)

”Every muscle, bone, or nerve is messed up in some way. Don't even make me talk about the magic circuits…” Arima grumbled as he stood up. Just that already made him go through violent pain.

”Night,” Arima called but Night didn't respond. Actually, the soul beast hid deep to escape any kind of scolding. ”…We'll talk later. Malum as well,” he stated and looked up. His eyes fell on both Fafnir and Jorga, who was riding Deva.

He then inspected his own body and groaned. He couldn't heal himself with the Fifth White Art since he noticed that the path of his circuits was overloaded. Arima summoned his gun and simply stared at Fafnir for now.

He didn't know how long Jorga would take to receive the full inheritance but he could tell it had already begun as Jorga's aura was rising very quickly.

As he thought that, Fafnir abruptly landed in front of him and twisted the landscape. Arima frowned when he saw how big the golden dragon had become. He glanced the eyes and exclaimed in surprise.

”Oh, so you're still lucid, huh?”

Fafnir snorted. ”Of course, I am. I'm not weak enough to be controlled by my own power.”

”You say that, but your power was something you got from an exterior curse wasn't it? It's not really yours.”

”I had thousands of years to dominate it. Odin's pathetic curse will not beat me,” Fafnir scoffed and stepped forward. His eyes flashed in anger. ”And you. You stole my possessions. I know you're weak at the moment. Be prepared to die.”

Arima laughed and pointed Superore at Fafnir. ”This isn't enough for you to get the upper hand. I only gave Malum the control because I knew I wouldn't be able to last as long as him. That guy sucked my mana dry but I still have more than you overall anyway.”

He smirked. ”Now, tell me, what color do you prefer between white and black? Choose well, I only have enough mana to cast one of them,” he said and Fafnir was taken aback.

The dragon's eyes shook for a moment. 'Is he serious?' Arima's expression revealed no sign of deceit. So, he was really asking Fafnir to choose which one he was going to use.

The golden dragon was perplexed and very hesitant. He had heard during the fight the magics Malum had chanted. He could understand that White Arts were about healing and body manipulation. But he didn't know anything about Black Arts. His opponent never used them. But the name was far from appealing.

”White,” he chose. He absolutely couldn't go with Black. He at least knew that White Arts were not about dealing damage. And even if Arima heals himself with that magic, the mana he would've left would not be enough to beat Fafnir.

”Good choice,” Arima nodded and grinned. ”You were at this to choose to go through even more torture than what you experienced with the flames.” Fafnir shuddered. ”I'll show you the First White Art then,” he declared and flapped his wings and retreated.

”As if I'd let you do it so easily,” Fafnir transferred next to Arima and instantly threw a punch along with an explosive fire magic. But his eyes narrowed in surprise as he tilted his head to dodge Superore's bullets.

Arima got out of the flames without any injury whatsoever. He smiled and started firing a barrage of bullets. Superore was the best choice for Arima at the moment. Karma was injured and his gun was a weapon that didn't need any particular magic to function and only required mana to operate. On top of that, it was also powerful while being low-consumption.

Even Fafnir couldn't ignore that many bullets coming at him. He summoned his gold artillery and made it clash with the bullets. It turned into a long-range fight very quickly. Arima couldn't do any fast movement at the moment.

His magic circuits used for time magic had already been overworked and he knew that if he moved with the pain, his movements would be dull and slow. In the end, nobody can completely ignore the physical restraint of the body when it feels pain. Especially one of that magnitude.

On the other hand, Fafnir didn't really care that much about this ranged battle. He could teleport at will every five seconds. He was sure that he could prevent the First White Art's activation quite easily since his opponent seemingly couldn't use time spells anymore.

What occupied his mind instead was how Arima had dodged his attack earlier. He didn't see it clearly but when he tried to hit him, the black dragon's figure appeared to coil around his arm then strangely go over it.

Fafnir groaned. He couldn't ponder about it eternally. He made up his mind and moved right below Arima. He restricted the area with his gold shields and then extended his palm. A small fireball ignited and started spinning while releasing searing hot sparks. It quickly transformed into an insane flamethrower.