Wildfire burned the moment it touched the inner wall of the dragon's mouth, and green flames overflowed from the corners of King Ghidorah's mouth, as if it was spitting out a dragon's breath of a different color.
King Ghidorah let out a painful scream. Gravity Beams's energy storage was interrupted. The golden light flickered in its throat for a few times and then dissipated.
This is not a fatal injury. Wildfire can burn through steel, but it cannot burn through the inner wall of King Ghidorah's mouth - the soft tissues that are not covered by the scales are also tougher than usual.
But the pain was real, and the feeling of liquid entering the mouth and burning on the tongue made King Ghidorah temporarily lose focus.
Its flight trajectory began to become unstable, the flapping of its wings lost its original rhythm, and its huge body swayed in the air, like a giant ship that had lost its rudder in the Storm rain.
Redd felt this instability on the dragon's back.
His hands tightly grasped the scales on King Ghidorah's back, and he clamped his legs together to stabilize his body.
His eyes swept around him - more barrels were flying from all directions, the density of crossbow arrows was increasing instead of decreasing, the water surface of the port was completely covered with flames, and thick black smoke rose up, completely covering the sky.
His nose was filled with the smell of burning - the pungent smell of crude oil, the chemical smell of kerosene, the sweetness of Wildfire, and something more primitive and essential, like the smell of hell itself.
Then, a barrel hit him.
It didn't hit King Ghidorah and then splash him, but hit him directly.
It was a wooden barrel filled with kerosene, which was thrown from the roof of a three-story building on the right by a small catapult, and hit Redd on the back.
The barrel shattered at the moment of impact, and kerosene poured from his shoulders to his waist, soaking into his cloak, coat and trousers.
The kerosene burned the moment it came into contact with the air. The flames spread from Redd's back to his chest, from his shoulders to his arms, and from his waist to his legs.
His entire body turned into a human-shaped torch in less than a heartbeat. Orange-red flames jumped, rolled, and burned on the surface of his body, wrapping his silhouette in a bright firelight.
To make matters worse, the shock waves of the explosion followed one after another.
A wooden barrel containing Wildfire exploded less than three meters away from King Ghidorah.
The explosion of Wildfire is different from any conventional explosive - it is not just shock waves and flames, it also has a special energy release that can penetrate materials, like some ancient power from deep underground that is compressed to the extreme and released instantly.
That kind of energy can penetrate dragon scales - not burn through, but penetrate, passing through King Ghidorah's scales like light through glass, and then converted into heat in the tissue below.
King Ghidorah's body shook violently, and its three heads simultaneously let out a low, painful and angry scream.
Its wings lost power at this moment, and its huge body began to fall.
Redd was blown off the dragon's back by this shock wave.
His hands were still tightly grasping King Ghidorah's scales just a second before the shock wave arrived, but when the energy penetrated the dragon's body, it also produced a layer of slippery, indescribable substance on the surface of the dragon's scales - not a liquid, not a gas, but something in between that reduced all attached friction to zero.
Redd's fingers slipped from the scales, and his body was thrown upwards by the thrust of the shock wave, and then drew a parabola under the influence of gravity, flying towards the area of residential buildings next to the port that had been engulfed in flames.
He flipped twice in the air and then smashed through the roof of the first house.
The wooden roof shattered like paper under his impact, with tiles and wooden beams flying everywhere.
His body passed through the attic, through the floor slab on the second floor, through the furniture on the first floor, and finally hit the stone slab on the ground.
The impact smashed a human-shaped depression into the stone slabs on the ground. The gravel and dust flew up around him, and then were licked and devoured by the subsequent influx of flames.
The house was already on fire. Wildfire and kerosene burned on the exterior wall of the house. The flames penetrated through the cracks in the windows and doors and ignited all the combustible materials inside.
The airflow caused by Redd when it broke through the floor made the flames more intense, and the entire house turned into a burning furnace within a few breaths.
Redd was lying in the depression of the human-shaped stone slab, his body covered with kerosene, dust and gravel.
Flames were burning all over his body, his cloak had burned away, his coat was curling, turning black, and turning into ashes, and his trousers were rapidly disappearing in the same process.
His hair--the long, silver-white hair that was always blown by the sea breeze--burned in the flames, making a hissing sound, as if he was crying.
But he was unscathed.
His skin only turned slightly red in the flames, as if it had been gently basked by the summer afternoon sun.
The heat released when the kerosene burned was enough to melt steel, but on his body, it was only enough to raise his skin temperature by a few degrees.
His muscles, bones, internal organs - all the things that made up his body were strengthened to a degree beyond common sense during the transformation in which he didn't know whether he could still be called a "human".
His strength is comparable to that of a humanoid beast, his speed eludes even the most agile assassins, and his reaction time is so short that he can almost predict the future.
And his body - the damage his body can withstand has exceeded the upper limit of what most weapons in the world can inflict.
The flames burned away his coat, his trousers, his hair and eyebrows, but left no trace on his skin.
He just lay there in the burning ruins, naked, with a healthy, slightly red skin, like a person who had just stepped out of the bath, rather than a Warrior who had just been swallowed up by the sea of fire.
He opened his eyes.
His pupils were still clear in the flames, and the black pupils reflected the dancing firelight around him.
Slowly, joint by joint, he sat up from the depression in the stone slab, his movements as calm as if he was waking up from a nap.
Rubbles slipped from his shoulders, ashes drifted from his skin, and flames burned around him, but not a ray of fire dared to lick his body - or rather, it licked, but to no effect.
He stood up.
He stepped barefoot on the burning wooden floor, and the skin on the soles of his feet was in direct contact with the hot stone, but he did not show any discomfort.
He looked around and saw that this private house had been completely engulfed in flames, the doors and windows were sealed by fire walls, the ceiling was falling piece by piece, and the whole building might collapse at any time.