The scalding Dragon Blood Potion poured down Mazdak's throat like a red-hot branding iron plunging straight into his stomach, followed by the agonizing pain of countless needles piercing his blood vessels at once.
Even under such agony, Mazdak's mind remained clear. His formidable mental strength guided the potion's power, like sweet rain nourishing cracked earth, restoring boundless vitality to his broken, withered body.
Aside from his deep studies in theology, Mazdak's research as a spellcaster had always focused on "using humanity to command the might of magical creatures."
Through his study of ancient texts, Mazdak discovered that many mid-tier dragon species were not much weaker than high-tier dragons. Their only deficiency was intelligence. Intelligent beings could use energy and display combat power far beyond beasts that relied entirely on instinct.
Almost no spellcaster could hunt a high-tier dragon, because they already understood how to weigh risks and benefits. Even if they could not win, they would most likely escape.
Thus arose the idea of using a human soul to command the power of demon dragons.
This was not an especially rare field of study. Transformation Magic, dragonkin, Chimeras... all were similar attempts.
But Mazdak, along with the faction of Zoroastrian spellcasters he represented, had undoubtedly gone far enough down this path.
The muscles in his face stretched rapidly, his entire body seeming to be torn apart and ravaged by the Creator's invisible hand.
He staggered to his knees. His knuckles thickened at a visible rate, crescent blades half a foot long springing from his fingertips and gouging deep pits into the ground. The flying magical creatures in the sky seemed to go mad, throwing themselves at the black dragon breathing dragonfire regardless of cost.
Crack, crack—
Mazdak could hear the sound of his bones and muscles multiplying rapidly, as though