He moved his eyes away from Bloodworm's corpse and turned to another dragon that was still lingering - Furious Waves. Tormund's blue-green dragon was lying on the beach at the moment. The wound on the neck that was torn by King Ghidorah was still gushing out dark blue blood, dyeing the surrounding sand a strange indigo color.
Its breathing was extremely weak, and every inhalation was accompanied by a snoring sound from its throat, like a broken bellows, which was the sound of air being squeezed out of the wound after the lungs were punctured.
The three heads of King Ghidorah exploded at the same time when they saw Redd taking out another Ice Spear.
It's not really a hairy thing - King Ghidorah has no hair - but the anxious mood is so strong that all the scales on its body slightly opened, making a fine clattering sound like metal friction.
Its body suddenly rolled down from the angry waves, landed on all fours, and threw itself onto the angry waves with a speed and agility that was completely incompatible with its huge body.
The three dragon heads launched a fatal attack at the same time.
The left side of the head bit into Nu Tao's neck, where most of the part had been torn apart. The teeth were embedded in the gaps between muscles and bones, and they were violently torn outward.
The head on the right bit the abdomen of Nu Tao, and the relatively soft scales instantly shattered under the bite force of King Ghidorah. The teeth penetrated into the internal organs, and dark blue blood and some thicker liquid with a fishy smell spurted out from the wound.
The head in the middle circled around the head of Nu Tao, opened its huge mouth, bit Nu Tao's jaw, and then twisted it in the opposite direction.
"Click--"
The sound was not a fracture, but a sound made when the cervical vertebrae were forcibly twisted. It was a duller and heavier sound than the fracture.
It's like a huge, tightened bolt that broke from the root after sustaining a torque beyond its limit.
Nu Tao's head was completely torn off from his neck under King Ghidorah's bite, along with a section of vertebrae and several thick blood vessels. Dark blue blood spurted out from the fractured spot like a fountain, dyeing half of King Ghidorah's body indigo.
Even after losing his head, Nu Tao's body still twitched for a few breaths.
Its limbs clawed at the sand, its tail swung wildly, and the wound on its abdomen tore even wider during the twitching. Internal organs and blood poured out from the wound, spreading out on the beach into a disgusting, steaming dark blue carpet.
Then its movements became slower and slower, weaker and weaker, and finally stopped completely, lying stiffly on the beach, like an abandoned, decaying blue island.
King Ghidorah spit out the bleeding faucet from his mouth, dropped it on the beach, rolled twice, and stopped in a sand pit soaked in blood.
Its three heads turned to Redd at the same time, and its six golden eyes carried an extremely complex look that was mixed with pride, luck, and a bit of "look at how awesome I am" to take credit.
That expression clearly said: I killed the last one, you didn't get it.
Redd looked at the faucet that was thrown on the beach, and then at King Ghidorah's proud look, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
He raised the Ice Spear in his hand to his eyes, looked at the frost condensed on the tip of the spear, and then casually took it back into the system space.
The moment the spear disappeared from his palm, the temperature of the surrounding air rose a bit, and the spine-chilling chill also dissipated.
"Okay," he said, his voice was not loud, but King Ghidorah's three heads could hear it clearly, "I know you are good."
King Ghidorah let out a contented, low whine, and the three heads rubbed Redd's outstretched hand at the same time.
The one in the middle was deliberately rubbed several times, as if to say, "I won't care about you just stealing someone's head."
Redd took back his hand and turned around.
On the beach, the corpses of two giant dragons lay in a pool of blood. The dark red and dark blue blood mixed together under the wash of the sea water, turning into a strange purple-black color.
The waves came up one after another, diluting, dispersing and bringing the blood stains into the sea, forming a huge and shocking colorful pollution belt on the sea outside the port.
The air is filled with a strong smell of blood - not the smell of ordinary animal blood, but the unique smell of Dragon Blood, with the smell of sulfur and metal, which makes the nose sour.
In the distance, the residents of Lys City were hiding in the shadows behind the city wall, looking at the beach through the gaps in the ruins.
They saw three dragons fighting, saw golden lightning, dark red flames and blue-green water columns intertwining in the air, and heard roars and screams that were enough to shatter glass.
Now, they saw the two dragons fallen, saw the golden three-headed dragon standing tall on the beach, and saw the naked - no, now clothed - Dragon King standing in a pool of blood, his figure stretched very long by the morning light.
No one spoke. No one dared to speak.
Redd's eyes retracted from the sea, scanning the trembling figures hiding in the shadows, and finally landed on the beach not far away.
Tormund is still lying there.
He remained in the same position as when he was kicked away by Redd, facing down with his hands spread out, like a half-dead starfish that had been washed ashore.
All five fingers of his left hand were fractured, hanging in an abnormal and twisted posture, bloody and bloody, and there were still a few strands of broken flesh hanging on the fingertips, revealing the white bone stubble underneath.
His right wrist was shattered, and the forearm and palm formed an impossible angle, like a broken branch.
There was a huge, purple bruise on his abdomen, which was the mark left by Redd's kick. It extended from his chest to his waist. The entire skin on his abdomen was swollen, as if it had been stuffed into a small pillow.
His face was buried in the sand, half of his face was soaked in sea water, and half of his face was stuck to the sand, leaving only a dull, half-closed eye exposed.
There was no brilliance in those eyes, no pain, no anger, no fear, not even despair.
It was a deeper and more complete hollow, as if someone had taken away all the burning things from his body, leaving only an empty shell, a skin, and a wild dog left on the roadside to die.
When he was listening to the death sounds of the two dragons on the beach in the distance, he could no longer hear anything. It was not that his ears were deafened, but that his mind was deafened.
Those sounds - the crunch of broken bones, the hiss of gushing blood, the triumphant neigh of King Ghidorah - all reached his ears, but his brain refused to process the information.
Because behind those voices, he heard a louder voice that could not be ignored: his dragon was dead.