NOVPUB
Chapter 89: Skeletons of Dragons: Saving the Dragons (7)
"Draconic Art: Draconic Transformation!"
Ding!
[Activating the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline.]
A chorus of mechanical clicks resounded through the battlefield as a dense mist surged around Drakion’s form. The onlookers tensed, held in suspense—uncertain of what monstrous evolution was now unfolding before them.
Seconds. Minutes. The onlookers felt the suspense killing them as they wondered about Drakion. They had noticed that whenever mist emerged, Drakion was transforming into another creature, which made them all the more curious about what he was becoming now.
Suddenly, the mist dispersed.
As the veil lifted, Drakion’s new form emerged—a towering fusion of arcane machine and draconic divinity. His entire body was forged from obsidian-colored alloy, smooth yet jagged, as if shaped by the will of a god who had grown tired of flesh and carved a dragon from darkness itself. Each scale was a seamless plate of living metal, layered like dragonhide yet engineered for both war and consumption. They shimmered not with light, but with the absence of it—swallowing all radiance around them into a suffocating void.
Beneath the armor, golden lines pulsed like living veins—channels of raw energy, both mechanical and magical, coursing through his body. They flickered with an ancient rhythm, as if syncing with the heartbeat of the world itself.
Two horns curved back from his skull like obsidian blades, glowing faintly with runes etched in forbidden circuitry. Between them sat a crest—more than mere decoration—an ancient array of runes and energy cores, a relic of the first dragons and forgotten machines. His eyes, no longer merely draconic, had become twin spheres of radiant gold, burning with divine sentience and overwhelming calculation. They scanned, dissected, and devoured truth from all they beheld.
His jaws had shifted—no longer just bone and fang, but plated with reinforced alloy and hydraulic power. Inside, rows of nanite-sharp teeth rotated like saws, able to tear through magic and matter alike. Every breath he exhaled shimmered with steam, sparks, and flickers of elemental decay—an omen of the energy devoured within.
From his back, wings of immense dark steel unfurled. Twenty meters across, they weren’t merely flight tools—they were power furnaces, lined with hexagonal vents and anti-light plating that absorbed Originat, heat, and kinetic force with each flap. When spread, they gave the illusion of blotting out the sky, turning daylight into twilight.
Across his spine, blade-fins jutted outward—each one razor-sharp, able to fold and extend with terrifying speed. They shimmered with devour-energy and could launch as projectiles or form a barrier around him. His shoulders bore segmented plating resembling ancient war sigils, while his limbs ended in metallic claws capable of ripping through enchantments and divine defenses.
His tail, long and segmented like a whip of black stars, ended in a tri-pronged spear tip—a generator of entropic lightning. Each segment thrummed with coiled tension, storing energy that could be released in devastating tail strikes or wide-range devouring pulses.
At his core, hidden beneath chest plates engraved with crimson fractal sigils, was the true engine: a swirling singularity of thunder, sword, fire, ice, scythe, blood essence, and death-force. It was not powered by fuel or flame—but by consumption, absorbing the energy of anything foolish enough to stand in his path.
Drakion had transformed into a Mechanical Devouring Dragon.
He was shocked by this, as he hadn’t expected to truly become a dragon forged from machines.
"What about my flesh body?" Drakion asked, surprised by how the transformation had even taken place.
"Don’t worry, the system is taking care of it," Drax replied. "Don’t bother asking more questions—just focus on your battle."
Drakion snorted when he realized Drax had caught on to him.
Suddenly, memories gushed into his mind. Drakion was surprised to discover they were about Mechas. Surprisingly, the Mecha Dragon had two notable features—one might call them skills: Transform and Mecha.
"System, what’s it about this Transform?"
Ding!
[Transform gives Host the ability to transform into any mechanical object that Host has seen before.]
When Drakion heard this, he was stunned. He began to think of mechanical objects he had seen before, and soon, his eyes settled on something. If he were still human, a smirk would have curled up on his lips.
"Mechanical Dragon Art: Mechanical Breath!"
Drakion’s body began to click and whir as his engine roared to life, swirling with power. He opened his mouth, unleashing a beam of energy laced with Devouring Originat. The scorching beam streaked forward, striking at the dragons with overwhelming force.
Kaidros roared, his body surging with sword law. Raising his sword horn once more, he slashed toward the incoming beam using the Sword Slash skill.
Both attacks collided in midair, locked in a deadlock—neither yielding ground, neither allowing leeway. The clash ignited a deafening explosion, a thunderous shockwave that rattled the battlefield and deafened most of the onlookers.
As for the two dragons who had survived Kaidros’ initial onslaught—Finn and Lizzy—Drakion had instructed them to tend to the fallen. Kaidros’ sword law had hindered Dragon Regeneration, making recovery painfully slow and difficult.
Now, the remaining dragons encircled Drakion. Nine of them. And all of them radiated hostility.
"Well, things are going to become hectic," Drakion thought, a subtle smirk tugging at his draconic lips.
The nine dragons didn’t hesitate. With ruthless precision, they charged toward him, their combined assault thundering like a storm.
"Devouring Art: Devourer Barrier!"
Drakion’s roar echoed as his entire body was engulfed in the Devourer Barrier. The barrier surged with devouring force, reflecting their attacks back at them. The dragons were caught off guard, their own strikes sent hurling them through the air.
All except Kaidros.
With a flash of silver, Kaidros shattered his reflected attack and darted forward. His sword horn slashed once more, crashing into the Devourer Barrier. At first, Drakion held firm—but in the blink of an eye, he realized he had underestimated the Saint Realm and the depth of Sword Law.
The barrier cracked.
Then shattered.
The blade pierced through, and though Drakion dodged narrowly, his right foreleg was cleaved off—metal shrieked, sparks burst, wires snapped. His leg disconnected, falling to the ground in a lifeless clatter of machinery.
"Draconic Art: Dragon Regeneration!"
In the next moment, the severed limb jerked as if alive, magnetized back toward its original position. It reattached with a hiss and click, locking into place as if it had never been cut off.
Drakion laughed inwardly, already appreciating the wonders of the Mechanical Dragon Bloodline.
Even if his entire body was torn apart—so long as he protected his core—he could regenerate. This revelation shook him.
Suddenly, Kaidros opened his mouth and released his Sword Breath—a wave of devastating energy that slashed through all things, tearing through space itself. It surged toward Drakion.
An explosion erupted.
And from within the smoke and fire...
A truck burst forth.
Drakion had transformed—into a massive, long-nosed semi-truck, modeled after a Peterbilt 379, with a dragon as the car logo. Bold and powerful, his truck form glinted with menace. The black cab gleamed with golden rear panels, while stylized flame decals stretched across the sides like claw marks left by a wrathful beast. The chrome front grille and bumper were wide and domineering, gleaming with lethal precision, as vertical exhaust pipes rose behind the cab like towering dragon horns. His tires were monstrous—capable of grinding stone to dust—while his cab windows, tinted and sharply angled, radiated a cold, predatory gaze.
Even as a vehicle, Drakion exuded an aura of supremacy.
Domineering. Draconic. Devouring. Unknown.
Drakion laughed as he drove himself—now he knew this feeling. He never thought it would be this cool. The dragons saw Drakion’s truck form and unleashed their attacks upon him without hesitation.
But in his truck mode, he moved with shocking agility, evading their every strike. Explosions echoed with every passing second, shaking the battlefield.
The Blade Dragon, Kaidros, released his attack as well—an explosion so violent it engulfed Drakion completely. The surrounding draconic skeletons were already reduced to scattered fragments.
Drakion was hurled into the air by the force of the blast.
"Transform."
His engine clicked with mechanical rhythm as his truck body began to shift, parts folding, sliding, and locking into place. He landed heavily upon the earth.
Standing over 28 feet tall was Drakion in his robot form. His frame was a masterwork of unknown engineering—sleek yet robust, forged from a blend of steel, unearthly alloys, and battle-hardened purpose. His body was encased in black armor plates, accented by golden mechanical joints and exposed pistons that hissed with each calculated movement, radiating a powerful, devouring aura.
His chest bore the iconic split-window design from his truck form. Massive shoulders supported arms of reinforced plating, which could shift to reveal Originat cannons or blades at will. His hands were immense—dexterous and brutal—capable of crushing steel or lifting allies to safety.
Drakion’s head was crowned with a helmeted design—angular cheek guards and a central draconic crest running down his forehead. Twin golden optics glowed with razor-sharp intelligence and a consuming resolve. A retractable battle mask slid into place, concealing his mouth whenever combat mode was activated.
From his back, the remnants of his truck form—grille, wheels, and fuel tanks—were seamlessly folded into layered mechanical panels. His legs were powerfully armored, designed for overwhelming stability and movement.
Even though it was concealed, Drakion still radiated the cultivation of the Origin King Realm.
And for those who beheld and seen both his robot form and the truck he had transformed from before, only one name would leap into their minds:
Optimus Prime.
A/N: The fun still continues! From now on, the general Draconic bloodline name that controls sword, scythe, and spear will be known as the Blade Dragon Bloodline.
There are still Chapters ahead where Drakion will unleash Dragon Arts from other bloodlines in this robotic form. All I can say is—there’s so much more to come.
Well... am I cooking or not? If this is fire, then support this shameless author—Power Stones, Golden Tickets, Gifts—they’re all welcomed!
