Melusine naturally noticed the young priest's gaze on her — measuring, calculating, assessing. His expression shifted as their eyes met, and she knew immediately what was in his heart. The priest's intentions had never been good; he had simply hidden them well. Now, though, his malice was plain: he wanted them dead.
That realization filled Melusine with a sharp and simmering anger. Without hesitation, she raised her weapon and aimed it directly at the retreating priest.
"The way you look at me irritates me. For that alone, I'll take your life."
Her golden eyes flashed coldly. Perhaps because she was serious, the air itself seemed to tremble under the pressure radiating from them. This was no ordinary intimidation — it was the oppressive aura of a dragon. The invisible weight fell on every soul present, freezing them in place. Only Aslan, himself a half-dragon, could move without effort.
In fact, when Aslan shifted into his draconic state, his own golden gaze carried a pressure just as profound. Together, their combined presence resonated — dragon blood harmonizing with dragon blood. To outsiders, it felt less like battle synergy and more like the smug radiance of a couple flaunting their bond.
It was as if someone had seized you by the throat, forced a funnel into your mouth, and poured pure dog food straight down your gullet. The oppressive affection was suffocating.
Kirei, however, merely took a step back. His dark eyes betrayed no fear, only indifference. Around him, the black mud swelled upward, twisting into colossal arms that encircled him protectively. More and more puppet-like husks rose from the filth, forming a wall of bodies between the priest and Melusine.
They knew, as he did, that their only ally here was this priest. Everyone else desired his death. For now, he was worth protecting. Should the Grail's vessel be destroyed, the evil could still parasitize the young man and hatch anew.
Melusine shook her head, unimpressed. He thought such measures could stop her? He truly underestimated the Horizon Dragon — not some ephemeral spirit bound by ritual, but the final living fragment of Albion itself.
"Whether in fairy form or dragon form, I am always Melusine — reserved, gentle, taciturn… But when it matters, I act without hesitation. I make swift, decisive strikes. If I feel loneliness, I drown it in battle. And once I spread my wings, I am the fastest alive. From stillness to breaking the sound barrier takes me less than a heartbeat — 0.3 seconds. Do you think these wretched imitations can stop me?"
With that, her wings spread wide. In the next instant, her figure blurred into a streak of light and vanished. Magic flared like a storm, and a line of incandescent brilliance cut across the battlefield. The black husks blocking her path were shredded before they realized they'd been struck, their twisted forms collapsing into fragments.
A shockwave followed in her wake, erupting outward from the platform's center. The gale whipped hair and cloaks into chaos, chilled the marrow, and carved deep scars into the surrounding stone.
When Kirei looked up again, she was already there — standing before him, her spear-like weapon raised casually at her side. With a flick of her wrist, its blade sang, and the protective arm of black mud that shielded him was severed cleanly.
The arm crashed to the platform with a thunderous boom, before dissolving into grains of black sand.
Kirei's breath caught. His throat went dry, and a thin line of blood traced his cheek. Then her golden eyes locked onto him, and her words fell like a commandment:
"Kneel."
He hadn't even noticed. His legs were already gone. Severed neatly at the knees, his body collapsed under its own weight, and blood gushed out in violent torrents. His ceremonial trousers split uselessly around the ruin. Forced to the ground, he knelt before her, trembling.
From the folds of the evil, bloodshot eyes embedded in the membrane watched her — wide with shock and fear. None had imagined this girl could wield such speed.
The black mud roared in outrage. A tidal surge of filth rose, birthing countless chains that lashed together into a vast net, blotting out the cavern's sky. It descended toward Melusine with crushing inevitability.
But the white-haired dragon girl was no longer there.
In the blink of an eye, she was back at Aslan's side, cheek pressed playfully against his shoulder, her weapon lowered. Her words, half-taunt and half-truth, carried easily across the battlefield.
"With this speed, you couldn't even touch my shadow."
Aslan, watching the web of chains fall, bent slightly at the knees. The tip of his holy sword touched the ground. Then, channeling a torrent of magic into the blade, he swept upward in a blazing arc.
The sword's energy didn't just sever the descending chains — it consumed them entirely, swallowing their form and ripping through the cavern walls beyond.
Fueled by the malignant power he had just absorbed, Aslan had no reason to hold back. The cavern shook with the unleashed force. The mountain itself trembled.
And then, with a thunderous roar, the very summit of Ryūdō Temple's mountain was blasted apart.
The sky opened wide, granting the Supreme Masterpiece a far broader field of vision — and a greater range to fire its merciless bombardments.
-End Chapter-
Visit the Patreon!!
Read 30 chapters ahead, more on the way!
[email protected]/TrashProspector