Borch's lightning-imbued claw attacks had briefly breached the upper limit of his bio-field's defense, leaving real scars on him.
Under normal circumstances, with the all-around protection of the bio-field, his clothes wouldn't be damaged at all.
But under the clash of forces at this level, the bio-field was once compressed to the point where it could only prioritize protecting the body itself, so naturally, there was no extra energy to spare for fragile clothing.
For Karl's words, which didn't claim all the credit but gave high praise to his opponent,
Borch nodded slightly, calmly accepted this, and gave an affirmative response, his voice low and hoarse: "Your strength... and your recovery ability are also beyond imagination."
He recalled the details of the battle; indeed, he had once broken through the opponent's invisible layer of defense.
His claws had cut several visible marks, bloody wounds on Karl's chest and arms.
But only a small amount of blood had flowed from these wounds, and they had quickly contracted and healed almost by the next attack.
And by the end of the battle, only faint traces remained.
This terrifying self-healing ability was far stronger than that of higher vampires, known for their resilience.
Just as the post-war atmosphere of mutual admiration between the man and the dragon was settling in,
from the dragon cave, behind the crowd, came heavy, obviously dragging footsteps and the screech of a sharp object scraping across the stony ground.
The being that Borch had desperately been protecting finally slowly emerged from the shadows of the deep cave.
It was a green dragon, much smaller than Borch, with mossy green scales that had a natural, mysterious luster.
However, it was in an extremely bad state, very bad. Its massive body was slightly unsteady, and walking was extremely difficult with each step.
With every step, it had to pause and take several sharp breaths.
Its vertical pupils, which should have been sharp as jade, also looked dim—full of fatigue and pain.
But even so, as it fully emerged from the cave, under the sunlight and the gaze of many eyes,
it still struggled with all its might, trying to lift its slender neck and chest, striving to maintain the innate pride and dignity of dragons.
However, this action made its breathing difficult, and its body trembled slightly.
But when its gaze swept over the scene—the dirty, blood-soaked earth, rivers of blood,
scattered stumps, severed limbs, bloodied corpses, and the massive, obviously wounded, and shattered scales lying in the pit...
ROOOAR!! A dragon's roar, full of sorrow, weakness, but with an anger pushed to a desperate situation, burst from its throat.
This roar no longer had the intimidating power of its prime; it was more like a mournful howl.
Almost without hesitation, it immediately opened its massive maw, and deep in its throat, a dim but still dangerous orange flame began to flicker and coalesce.
It wanted to breathe dragon fire, no matter how bad its condition, it would put up a last stand to protect its kin and the dignity of the dragon race.
"Quick! Shield!" Yennefer's face changed, and she immediately joined forces with Dorregaray again.
They hastily raised their spell shield, protecting the two sisters, Geralt, Tia, and Via behind them.
At the same time, their figures sharply retreated, trying to stay away from this weak but still dangerous green dragon.
Seeing this, Borch, at the bottom of the pit, ignoring his own pain, quickly raised his head and let out a sharp, low roar with a certain rhythm.
He seemed to be urgently conveying a message, telling the green dragon that the people before it were not enemies, and that the battle just now was over.
The green dragon, which had been about to fight to the death, was clearly stunned by Borch's roar.
The fire brewing in its mouth slowly dissipated, and its dim dragon eyes were filled with confusion.
It looked at the golden dragon at the bottom of the pit, then at Karl, who was battered but intact on the edge of the pit, and at Yennefer and the others waiting behind, who weren't attacking.
Finally, as if its last remaining strength had been exhausted,
BOOM!! With a heavy, muffled sound, it could no longer maintain its upright posture.
Its body lost its balance and crashed heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.
Its head hung weakly and hit the ground, but it still held on, not closing its eyes completely.
It was just that the light in its pupils was becoming more and more scattered, its breaths seeming weak.
At that moment, from the depths of the cave came a rapid, immature scraping and fluttering sound.
A young dragon, the size of a calf, still very young, panicked out of the shadows.
Its scales were light emerald green, and its wings were still too small to support flight.
It could only flap them desperately, coordinating with its limbs, awkwardly and eagerly running towards the green dragon that had fallen to the ground.
It let out a sad and anxious, howl-like, soft dragon moan, using its tiny head,
constantly and gently nudging the massive, low-hanging head of the green dragon, as if trying to use its meager strength to help its mother stand up again.
Borch endured the intense pain and struggled out of the pit.
Every time his body moved, the terrible wound on his chest felt a tearing pain.
But he just gritted his teeth, kept his mouth shut, and said nothing.
Standing firm, he shook himself violently, dislodging most of the sticky dwarf, mercenary flesh, and dirt from his back.
Immediately, a faint golden glow appeared on his body, like a flow of water, carefully washing each scale, completely removing the dirt lodged in the crevices.
His entire body became brilliant again, although the shattered scales on his chest were still shocking.
As the golden glow flowed, the scales on his chest, shattered and crumbled by Karl's heavy blows, fell off one by one, clattering onto the blood-soaked ground.
The wound beneath healed quickly, the bleeding stopped, and pink new flesh grew at a speed visible to the naked eye, covering the damaged muscles and quickly forming a layer of blood scab.
He took a step and eagerly walked towards the green dragon that had fallen to the ground, a movement that inevitably pulled at his wound.
The muscles on his face twitched slightly in pain, but he remained unwavering.
When Borch approached, the young green dragon, anxiously guarding the side of the green dragon, despite the vast size difference, stood fearlessly in front of its mother.
It let out a low, threatening "hissing" roar at Borch, trying to stop the "big guy" from approaching.
Borch looked at the little one's impatient nurse, pulled the corners of his mouth, and showed a smile mixed with helplessness and a little tenderness.