First Demonic Dragon - Chapter 1196: A Different Beast

Chapter 1196: A Different Beast

Abaddon remembered the first night he brought her home. Not in this timeline, but in his very first life with his identity restored.

She was such a small, timid child at first. It was clear she wasn’t a hundred percent certain on who she could trust with all of the adults she knew either trying to take advantage of her or subjecting her to cruelty.

Mira was a big help in making her comfortable. She got her to eat with less reservation. Shared all of her toys and they even shared a bed together.

That night, Abaddon, a recently married man would have ordinarily been enjoying nuptials with his wives or asleep for the trying times ahead.

However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sleep.

He found himself getting out of bed that night and wandering the halls.

It occurred to him to check on his kids while they were sleeping—something he had never really had to do with Mira before.

When he quietly opened the door to the girls’ room, he found that Thea wasn’t asleep either.

She sat in bed with the moonlight peeking through the curtains and illuminating her radiant golden blonde hair.

Abaddon, then only a young man who knew next to nothing about childcare, sat beside Thea all night long until she fell asleep.

If asked about the moment Thea officially became his child, Abaddon would always recall that particular night.

It was the moment he had decided to always protect Thea from hardship, regardless of the consequences, or if she needed it.

Even if it meant he had to earn her ire, he could do it so long as his child was safe.

–

As the half-complete timeline destabilized, Abaddon put up another barrier of his own; this one completely under his control.

It shields his timeline just as the explosion occurs. The outpour of energy is reflected due to the barrier’s cylindrical shape, causing the wave of energy to rush upward.

The energy hits the opening portals first. It’s such a dynamic, overbearing force that it is more than enough to close a few. As Abaddon had hoped.

When the light dies down, he sees the result of his last-ditch moment of trickery.

One portal is remarkably being held open by a pair of white claws.

Gradually, the opening is forced to widen through an entity possessing tremendous strength.

Abaddon witnesses a being unlike any he has ever seen step through the portal.

It’s shape, at least, is somewhat humanoid.

It is a large, snowy-skinned creature with deep burgundy carvings dotting its flesh. They almost resemble tattoos.

Abaddon likened it to a mountain of hulking muscle with beast-like limbs that went all the way to it’s ankles and massive black talons jutting from thick fingers.

When it’s head pokes through the opening, Abaddon meets two beady orange lights surrounded by a sea of black within it’s eyes.

The creature’s head is almost inorganic. It is a stone-like rocky mass with rows of sharp protrusions jutting upwards like a headdress of death and despair.

Four wormy white tentacles, as thick as a man’s thigh, curl out from the sides of the creature’s head.

It’s teeth were a deep, dirty yellow, and as needle-like as a barracuda.

He was easily over ten feet tall. But somehow, his height was the least imposing thing about him.

The creature forcefully rips open the portal so that it would stay open unless closed.

He floats down from the opening and stares down at Abaddon with a glimmer of recognition in his beady eyes. His face, however, was expressionless and difficult to read due to his stone-like features.

Just as the creature recognized him, Abaddon recognized the creature too. He had certainly seen him staring at him enough.

The creature spoke through his pointed teeth. It’s voice was gravelly and unrefined. The language was something Abaddon had never heard before.

And yet, Abaddon can easily understand what it is trying to say.

Found you.

To his surprise, the creature draws a weapon.

It is a futuristic, long metal handle. A curved blade of energy comes down from the top of the rod and points to the bottom.

Abaddon notices the creature trying to speak again.

Submit to the unifier of the planes. The great one who mastered conquest. The engine of violence and rightful owner of your power and your worship. Omniarch. Will you give or must it be taken?

A sea of winged individuals fly out of the portal behind the hulking giant.

They quickly fill up the empty spaces in the domain in between and ensure that Abaddon has nowhere he can run.

They are a strong force. So strong that he is actually surprised by their arrival, though he doesn’t show it. Their numbers are so great that Abaddon cannot easily count them. And more are continuing to pour out from the opened rift.

But they do not know him. They do not know how his powers work.

Their greater numbers refill his energy reserves, if only slightly.

He no longer looks as if he is about to fall at Azrael’s doorstep at any moment.

The defiant look in his eyes is easily understood. The white giant seemed to have been hoping for this opportunity all along.

He roars, and Abaddon is bombarded.

Soldiers in white technology rush him. Abaddon realizes he has no more time to waste feeling sick.

Slowly, he reaches for the gem in his chest.

But just as he is about to touch it, he stops and remembers the face of Yesh. He could no longer go through with such an option.

He drops his hand, and another set of arms grows beneath his first.

Once again, he raises his hand and makes a small ‘push’ gesture with his index finger.

A cracking sound fills the spatial distortion.

An unseen force seems to rip apart the soldiers before they can even land a single hair on Abaddon.

Their organs are a strange color not native to Yesh. Their blood is thick and slushy-like.

But Abaddon is surprised to see the beings healing. Or more accurately, their armor is stitching them back together.

It makes him realize that he perhaps will have to work a little harder to make it home today.

A roar shakes his eardrums.

Abaddon ducks out of the way in time for the leader’s energy weapon to pass over his head.

He throws out a kick powerful enough to split atoms. It strikes the leader’s midsection with perfect accuracy.

The creature blows apart at the midsection. Abaddon stares into his eyes coldly.

The being smiles at him as the shards of his body reproduce into identical duplicates. And that is far from all.

Bayach’al has you! He seems to say.

One of the bodies grabs Abaddon from behind and holds him tight.

The lead body switches it’s grip on it’s strange weapon and swings directly for Abaddon’s stomach. It is significantly faster than it was before. Faster than even Abaddon.

The dragon feels the blade slice into his stomach.

Like everything else about his enemy, the sensation is foreign. But it hurts.

He cannot explain why it hurts so badly. The pain is not a heat, nor is it a slicing, or even an electrifying feeling.

He screams. Not from pain, but rather from anger.

The scream finally seems to shock the rocky creature, and all of it’s duplicates.

Suddenly, the creature looks down at his meaty limbs and sees his skin turning black and diseased.

Slowly, a rot seizes his entire body and causes his form to break down.

It isn’t just the leader. The entire army seems to be hit by the pandemic, and their bodies are broken down at a cellular level.

However, Abaddon doesn’t feel relieved. His energy had yet to return to normal.

Sure enough, Abaddon sees his great enemy return from nothing.

His cells come together again, starting with his arm. A forceful punch is thrown out at Abaddon, and he deflects, but as the body has yet to fully reform, he has nothing to counterattack.

A clawed foot is flung at his midsection; an act of payback for the kick earlier.

Abaddon catches the foot and twists it around completely until it breaks.

But by then, the creature had already reformed two of it’s hands.

It flattens them like blades and intends to deliver a swift chop to both sides of Abaddon’s neck.

Abaddon catches the blow with his extra arms and lets out a defiant roar. His appearance is gradually losing it’s beauty and becoming more beastlike by the second.

He can sense an uphill battle before him. His enemy so far had matched him in terms of speed, regeneration, and now, physical strength.

Abaddon feels teeth become embedded in his shoulder.

Bayach’al’s head has regrown, and it’s first objective was to take a bite out of his opponent.

The creature says something to his soldiers, who had begun to stagnate. They draw a new form of long-range weaponry in response and open fire on the dragon.

However, before the projectiles can hit their target, they are suddenly destroyed by an unseen force, and Abaddon hears a voice that, for the first time, makes him experience worry in the battle.

“Hey, Dad. That looks like it hurts.” Straga comments.