031: Humanity, the Mightiest Dragon Is Truly Angry!
When Novia arrived at the underground area near Londinium in Britannia, the first thing that greeted him was darkness.
The air was thick with intense magical energy—so dense that the slightest mishap could wither the nearby land. Moreover, the density of the magical energy continued to increase.
Yet, the space wasn't entirely dark. Flames fueled by magical energy burned at the four corners of the mage's workshop, casting a dim atmosphere over the area. Wisps of smoke rose from the light sources, flickering with the faint flames, appearing identical regardless of distance. Alchemical ether lines, laid out by the alchemist, also filled the entire space.
Deep within the lines, at the convergence point of the ether lines, the head of the Albion Dragon was slowly being transformed into a blue-black "spear," undergoing a complete alteration of its existence.
Before it stood a purple-haired girl, Shirley.
Dressed in Atlas Institute attire, she stared intently at the numerous ether lines inserted into the dragon's head, her body utterly still. Even her breathing was so faint that one might mistake her for dead.
With each tautening of the ether lines, her body would tremble slightly.
Before Novia arrived, Lucius had mentioned that Shirley had dedicated nearly all her time over the past year to the Albion Dragon, focusing entirely on it aside from eating and sleeping.
Although the purple-haired girl would never speak of the hardships she endured this year, Novia understood it clearly. Just seeing the sweat drenching her cheeks was enough to convey the immense effort this task required.
After all, this was the Albion Dragon. Even as a corpse, magical energy flowed through its entire body. It possessed features reminiscent of serpents, reptiles, and bats, with limbs as tough as armored scales. In appearance, it resembled the "dragons" found in legends worldwide.
Dragon.
A creature humanity could never contend with—only heroes stood a chance of slaying one. Blades wielded by non-heroes couldn't harm it in the slightest. The mightiest magical beast across all lands, an absolute fantasy, possessing power that could threaten the heroes who guarded the world.
In the world of magecraft, the new rarely surpassed the old, as ancient fantasies, even those connected to gods, evolved into greater mysteries over time.
Moreover, what lay here was a true dragon—not a "dragon" born from the lingering influence of dragon factors after the Age of Gods, but a pure-blooded dragon that, in life, could shatter the self of any ordinary person who merely gazed upon it.
As Novia had surmised, Shirley had spent the past year patiently transforming its head.
Enduring the fear of the dragon, pushing her spirit to its limits, wearing down her soul, refusing to yield to the sensations overwhelming her body.
The ether lines she used were as sharp as highly precise high-pressure water jets. Countless ether lines repeatedly made minute adjustments to the dragon's head. Besides the precision of the design blueprints Novia had provided, she had likely added even more intricate details herself.
After all, Atlas Institute was exceptionally adept at crafting weapons.
However, Shirley's decision to inform Novia a few days before completion likely stemmed not only from confidence in her calculations but also from a desire to prove herself—to show that her status as a candidate for the next head of Atlas Academy was well-deserved.
Time passed bit by bit. Just before the date changed, Novia witnessed the magical energy surrounding the dragon's head, enveloped by ether lines, surge explosively.
Something had been successfully born. In an instant, the underground space transformed.
A blue aurora emerged.
An aurora that should have been impossible thousands of meters underground.
Gorgeous, splendid, or perhaps sinister bands of light encircled the underground space, shimmering as if blessing the birth of something.
The world enveloped in darkness seemed to transform into an endless ocean of blue light.
This was because a dazzling blue-black armament had been born.
Exhausted, Shirley released the ether lines. The glowing blue object resonated softly and, guided by the ether lines, was placed before Novia.
"There. This is the weapon crafted according to your design, completely transformed from the head of the Albion Dragon you named..." She paused briefly before continuing in a slightly altered tone. "However, while your design blueprints were precise, some aspects couldn't be altered exactly as you specified. I had to use what I believed to be the correct methods instead. For that, I ask your forgiveness."
"It's fine. The fact that you've accomplished this much is something I should be grateful for."
Novia reached out and took the "spear." After Shirley retracted her ether lines, he walked straight toward her.
"True, our contract only extended until its completion."
After uttering just these words, Shirley calmly took a deep breath, her expression unreadable as she watched the silver-haired boy approach.
Currently, she was physically and mentally exhausted. A year's worth of endurance had left her so vulnerable that almost anyone could easily overpower her. After all, mages were generally egoists, prioritizing efficiency. If she exposed her weakest state, she had to be mentally prepared.
She didn't exactly regret it, but she felt an indescribable sense of frustration.
Novia didn't say much in response. Instead, he simply hoisted the purple-haired girl onto his back with one hand and began making his way toward the surface.
"Please put me down. I'm not so helpless that I need to rely on others. Our contract doesn't include this clause."
The girl glared down at Novia with displeasure in her purple eyes.
"As expected, you wouldn't agree if I simply offered to carry you out," the silver-haired boy replied without turning his head. "So, taking action directly is more convenient."
".....The mysteries and treasures scattered throughout this place are enough for you to establish an organization rivaling Atlas Academy and the Wandering Sea."
"Obtaining this 'spear' here is sufficient. Besides, the Albion's corpse is infested with detestable, small, half-human, half-beast parasites. I think burying its body underground afterward is the best choice, lest they someday emerge and cause trouble—"
"Ahem."
Before Novia could finish speaking, a sound emanated from the "spear" in his hand.
What emanated from the "spear" was not a human voice, but a bestial sound—an angry groan born from the actions of weak humans upon themselves.
"Human, who gave you the nerve! How dare you send someone to alter the body of the greatest me, reducing me to such a humiliating form! And you dare to insult me! I am truly angry now!"
(TL Note: Sorry for the late update I was playing endfield)
Note: I'm new to translating so please be kind and tell me any mistakes you all find, I will try to release a chapter a day but don't expect much
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