Without any more delay, Pluton advanced towards the twenty smaller dragons. In terms of size, they were each, at most, only around 75% smaller than him, but with that smaller size came better maneuverability and a smaller hitbox. Plus, these Forest Dragons were many centuries older than Pluton, and as such, they held quite an advantage in terms of combat experience and expertise.

However, more than his size and power, the biggest asset Pluton had in this fight was his durability. This would be akin to a match between a modern armored personnel carrier and a bunch of motorbike-mounted soldiers armed with high-caliber small arms. Eventually, enough damage in the same place would be enough to take him down, but whether or not Pluton would be able to defeat his foes before that happened was the main issue.

Realizing that their best bet was to scatter and engage in hit-and-run attacks, the Forest Dragons did exactly that, much to Pluton’s annoyance. It seemed as though this struggle would last a fair bit longer than Pluton would have liked.

…

“Stay…. Still!”

He had nearly caught one of those tiny little shits, only for it to just barely slip past the read of his claws. As he reached out, he felt a slight stinging sensation along the length of his spine, which was his clue that another one of those bastards had attacked him. They were much weaker at the beginning of that engagement, not even being able to do so much as tickle him. Now, though, they were a major nuisance and were able to leave minor scrapes and scratches all over him.

He could and would regenerate from those injuries almost instantly, but each blow damaged his pride just that little bit more. These little shits were smaller and weaker than him, so why was he having such a hard time taking them down?! He twisted his body and managed to clip the horns of one of the gnats with his tail. This was the first hit of the entire battle that he had managed to land so far, and that alone was enough to get his stress levels to even higher heights.

The sharp cracking sound of that horn breaking was followed up by a pained roar. Pluton took advantage of this and twisted his body in the air once again, finally getting his claws on one of the twenty Forest Dragons. The enemy tried to struggle free, but Pluton had his whole ‘hand’ around the thing’s long, thin neck. With malicious glee and a twisted sense of schadenfreude, Pluton slowly increased the pressure on the smaller dragon’s neck until he felt a buildup of magical power nearby.

The dracolich reacted swiftly, yanking the smaller dragon around to act as a living shield. By the time the other dragons realized what was going on, their breath attacks had already left their mouths, ultimately resulting in them killing one of their own by melting its flesh and bones with their caustic bile. Or at least the ‘living shield’ should have died, but instead, it was apparent that it was just barely clinging to life.

Pluton growled before releasing the dragon’s neck for a brief moment, only to regain his grip, this time around the heavily wounded dragon’s skull. Once again his face spouted a sadistic grin, but this time he didn’t merely try and strangle the dragon to death.

“One down.” He growled as he crushed the weakened dragon’s skull where the spine met the base of the skull. He then dropped the dead creature, letting it fall several miles to the ground and land with a sickening crunch. “Nineteen to go.”

“You monster.”

The first words spoken by the opposition thus far were a welcome addition to the battle. At long last, there was enough reason for these tiny little fuckwits to speak up.

“Monster?” Pluton asked as he brought his claws to his face and licked them clean of the gore that was on them. “No, not a monster. I am more than that, you ignorant insects.”

Pluton felt a surge of power course through him. It wasn’t that intense, but instead, it felt like his mind had expanded a bit. Once he had put that mongrel down, the sensation had started, and now it was nothing more than another part of him. He looked at the surviving nineteen dragons and now knew their names.

Which was odd, as he had never asked for them nor been told them. Suddenly, his mind pieced together the various bits of information that he had gathered over the past few days. The runic sigils carved into the dead lands of Ititlis, the increase in power after he had finally wiped out the last vestiges of the undead there, and now the unnatural knowledge of the names of the dragons in front of him.

It all made sense now. Well, it just barely made sense to him. Whatever those undead had done had given their power to him, bulking him up in size and strength, while also giving him what seemed to be the ability to steal the strength of that which he killed. Well, at least he could steal some of it, and he did not seem to have any control over what he stole. However, these new bits of info were helpful. Maybe he could use this to his advantage during this fight?

He then had another idea. Maybe, if he tried to do something else, he could gain even more power and/ or knowledge from his most recent kill. He stopped floating mid-air and let himself fall down onto the ground. His bones and muscles and tendons easily withstood the shock, and he quickly set about testing his hypothesis.

“What are you doing?!” screamed one of the Forest Dragons as they all saw Pluton begin to cow down on the fallen member of their number. “You.. cannibal! Do you have no remorse?! No sympathy for the fallen?! No respect for their existence?!”

Pluton didn’t listen to their moral bullshit and instead continued stuffing his face with the partially melted corpse of his most recent kill. Much to his own surprise, the fallen dragon’s former kin did not get involved, mere watching on in a mix of shock, horror, and disgust.

After stuffing the last major trace of the fallen beast into his stomach, Pluton realized that his hypothesis had been proven correct. Now he merely needed to get the rest of those annoyances into his stomach, and he figured that his odds of doing that were now a decent bit larger than they were before. And, of course, each new meal would only tip the odds even further in his favor.