Chapter 356: The Dragon's Shadow

"Tsk. What a waste of time. The magichip project is one step away from completion. I'd be better off lending Avia and Sieg a hand—handling certain materials is near impossible without the Chariot's power.

"But since the Council's currently trying to put the finishing touches on their research manuscript, I suppose I shouldn't disturb them. Best to stick to the schedule and finish my training."

As he walked down the streets of Skyborne City, Wang Yu mulled over his blunder that day. Meeting with those ridiculous Nightborn had been a waste of time. He had too much pressing work and could not afford to lose even a single hour.

Reports from the Church of Nightfall painted a grim picture: the Church of Dragonkind was stirring, their movement spreading across the lands. Vortex clouds and other ominous phenomena—marks of Its growing influence—were appearing with alarming frequency.

And then there were the dragons. Once thought vanished from the world, the dragons now streaked across the skies once more. Wherever the Church of Dragonkind surfaced, dragons soon followed, and vice versa.

Aurelian had been sighted among them, a recurring figure at their side. Clearly, she was maneuvering toward some hidden goal. The cult, true to its nature, sought her death and the death of all dragons. Their aims clashed as naturally as fire and water.

Wang Yu and his companions could not yet identify what all this foretold. In his discussions with Avia and Sieg, they had concluded only this: the cult's influence was swelling as Its power did, spilling ever more widely across the world.

Apart from those already brainwashed by the cult, the remaining dragons seemed intent on striking before Its strength reached the point of invincibility. It was a last, desperate offensive before the tide became overwhelming.

But try as they might, reaching Aurelian was nearly impossible. She had severed contact with Sieg and Noelle, shielding them from the titanic struggle she knew would devour all who drew near.

"If only the dragons could access the Prayer Network," Wang Yu murmured. "Communication would be so much simpler. But they despise the word ‘faith' more than even I did when I first came to this world.

"Their king became their god and drove their race to ruin. The Church of Dragonkind itself was born in that shadow. It would be folly to think that they would devote even a shred of themselves to the Lady of the Night.

"Unless... unless the network could be expanded to reach even those without faith."

He shook his head. There was nothing to suggest that that was plausible just yet. The idea had no basis in reality. The more immediate concern was how to journey across the Endless Sea, toward the kingdom of dragons that lay beyond the continent's edge.

Wang Yu had no choice but to involve himself. The last few calamities he had encountered—devils, Selwyn, even the Central Assembly—had all ended up landing on his head. Ignore the warning signs again, and there would only be chaos at his feet.

One virtue Wang Yu did possess was learning from experience: once bitten, twice shy. He would not let himself become a target the way he had been in Alestrere.

And though he had thought himself weak, though the disparity in strength between him and his enemies might once have been as unbridgeable as heaven and earth, that was true no longer. The fruits of hypermagic research were beginning to ripen. Avia, Sieg, and even Noelle stood at the cusp of a transformative rise in power. There was hope.

As for Wang Yu himself? Well, he was training too.

From his pocket, he retrieved a refined ingot of metal, tossed it casually into his mouth, and bit down. Metal shrieked against enamel; the metal shattered. Swallowing it with effort, he strode into the central spire of Skyborne City.

Though barred to ordinary citizens, the gates recognized his special clearance and swung open. Within lay a vast training ground. At its center stood a statue-like figure: the Machine God that had once nearly crushed him with a single blow.

It was no longer his enemy, but rather his sparring partner—his crucible for exceeding his limits.

"You've come earlier than expected," said Astartes.

As Wang Yu approached, the Machine God stirred from dormancy. His voice resonated from within the metal colossus.

"It's always on standby here. Early or late makes no difference, does it?" Wang Yu replied, shrugging off his outer garments.

His blood welled forth from his bloodpool, sheathing him in hardened crimson armor. Once matte, it now bore a metallic sheen.

"Not quite. When I'm not training you, I can project my consciousness into any corner of Skyborne City to aid in governance. But when I spar with you, I must devote myself fully to this body."

The Machine God stretched almost like a human did, its great frame shifting, humming with power as if warming up its core.

"Oh? And here I thought Skyborne ran just fine without your oversight. It's more that this body is quite to your liking, isn't it?"

Wang Yu's voice was teasing as he settled into a combat stance.

"You've noticed, have you? It hardly matters. Once we begin training, you won't have the leisure to—"

Astartes cut itself short. The Machine God blurred from sight and surged forward with blinding speed.

"I see you..."

Wang Yu's thought had barely formed before a fist was upon him. The gale of displaced air trailed behind the strike, colliding with his hastily-raised guard a heartbeat too late.

The fist smashed into his chest. His bloodforged armor shattered like brittle glass. Flesh tore. The force ripped through his bones, cascading through his entire frame and hurling him into the air.

His body slammed against the boundary wall, rebounded, and hit the ground face-first.

"Your defenses have grown again," Astartes observed, surprised. "That strike carried half the force of that initial punch that took you down—but you were able to take it head-on and still rise up again!"

Wang Yu coughed out blood as he pushed himself upright. "I've been feeding on metal. My bones harden, and even my blood is stronger. Even so, with insufficient defense, there's little I can do. For now, it's just a matter of enduring each impossibly strong strike, letting my body break, and tempering it stronger bit by bit."

Wang Yu dragged himself up from the ground. The gaping hole in his blood-forged armor sealed itself shut, the torn flesh beneath knitting rapidly back together. His sternum was fissured, though it hadn't broken. Within a mere dozen seconds or so, the fractures had mended and his body was once again whole.

The last time he had been pulverized by a single blow, he had devoured vast quantities of rare ores. Portions of their essence had fused into his very frame, embedding themselves within bone and sinew. The result was that his already-formidable skeleton had become absurdly resilient.

And as if to ensure that these metal-reinforced bones could be repaired in the future, his blood had begun to absorb the metal as well. The reservoir within his bloodpool now teemed with metallic currents that were capable of restoring even these upgraded bones. As a byproduct, the strength of his bloodforged armor had risen to a new level entirely.

That he had managed to withstand a half-strength blow from the Machine God itself spoke volumes. His bones had not shattered, and he remained capable of battle. His defenses were advancing at such a terrifying rate that he would even be able to survive a few strikes from a legendary knight.

"Again!"

With a snap of his wrist, Wang Yu squared himself for another clash. Astartes, directing the Machine God, showed no hesitation. The colossus lunged forward with impossible speed, sweeping a metal-clad leg like a scythe.

"Right side—block it!"

Focused to the utmost, Wang Yu tracked the motion and thickened the armor along his right arm by instinct to brace it against the incoming strike.

For a heartbeat, metal met bloodforged metal. Then his armor exploded under the force, dispersing part of the impact before the rest plowed through to his body. Inevitably, he was hurled away, rolling and skidding across the training floor until his back slammed against the wall with bone-jarring force.

"Ah, your arm..."

Astartes gestured toward a corner of the training ground. There, Wang Yu's severed forearm lay crumpled, torn loose by that brutal kick.

Though he had overseen several of these training sessions, Astartes felt a cold unease creep down his incorporeal spine as their intensity escalated.

"I'll live," Wang Yu muttered, straightening. "At least I have you as a sparring partner. Out there, I won't get the luxury of adapting. My bones might be tough enough now, but my joints are still weak—one hit and they're likely to dislocate. My muscles are still too frail to absorb powerful impacts and too feeble to strike with any real power."

He twisted his spine back into place with a sickening crack, then drew his sundered arm back with streams of living blood. He reattached the severed limb, setting the bones with the aid of his other hand, while flesh and muscle slowly reknit themselves around the joint.

His growth was starting to feel rather uneven: his bones and blood were stronger than steel, but his muscles and tendons lagged far behind, unable to match the resilience of the rest of his body. It was like building a tractor from adamantine but leaving the original diesel engine behind. Though the frame might have been unbreakable, its power was laughably insufficient.

In the most extreme scenario, Wang Yu thought to himself grimly, a blow at full strength might leave his skeleton intact yet tear every scrap of flesh from it. But there was no shortcut here. He had found no magical method to strengthen muscle swiftly. Only the simplest path remained: destruction, recovery, and growth—again and again.

"Warmup's over," Wang Yu said after about a minute, flexing his reattached arm until it responded. "Now... dial the Machine God down a notch. Keep hitting me until I can no longer raise a hand to strike back."

"Alright."

Astartes sighed within the mechanical shell. He disliked watching what came next—the brutality was unnerving even to him.

Wang Yu's bloodforged armor flared as he lunged forward, charging headlong at the Machine God. Every time he pressed against the edge of death, his body would continue to grow, and he would edge closer to strength.