Dragonlord

Ep 74. Who Are You? (4)

The first thing that struck Serenis’ mind was the strangeness of the situation.

Mere minutes ago, this entire city was on the brink of disaster. The civilians that had once occupied the marketplace she stood in had long abandoned their shops and homes to flee.

The second thing that struck her mind was the malice of the approaching individual.

In the emptied streets, a lone man was walking ever so calmly towards the dragonlord. A thin, vicious grin was on his face –as if he couldn’t wait to cut down an old archenemy.

“…Once.”

The winged figure began to speak, his steps coming to a halt some distance away from Serenis.

“I’ve seen it, just once in my lifetime. A night sky that drowned daylight.”

“…”

Serenis studied the winged figure. A sense of familiarity began to creep within her mind.

His attire resembled that of a mage’s – in fact, his appearance overall resembled the attire worn by the Magician herself. His black, feathered wings and malicious smile were nothing like her, but circumstances still pointed to only one answer.

“…Felicir.”

“Oh?”

Felicir’s grin widened as his name was spoken by the dragon. He threw his head back, a frenzied laughter escaping the deity.

“Ha…haha! Hahahaha! To think the only individual who recognizes me would be a dragon…that’s quite ironic. Should I guess at who you are as well?”

The Reaper stretched one arm forward. A blackened hue wrapped about his hands like venomous vapor.

This was Aymeia’s concern. It had to be.

‘A white-haired dragon who wields the star element…an individual who’s more attuned to the star than Aymeia herself.’

“It’s you, isn’t it? The first dragonlord.”

Immediately after the Reaper’s vocal conclusion, the black vapor surrounding his arms drifted forward, washing over the silent dragonlord’s figure. Felicir began to approach Serenis once more afterwards, this time barely leaving any space in between them.

“But how is it that you’re standing here? Did a miracle resurrect you from the underworld? Your rotten flesh was burnt to dust. Your heart should’ve been destroyed by your own son. Or was all of that faked in your desperation to live?”

When the black hue faded away after being absorbed into Serenis, the Reaper could see the dragonlord’s silent, piercing glare. Contrary to his expectations, Felicir couldn’t see a hint of fear in the dragon’s eyes – even though she’d recognized who he was.

His malicious grin soon twisted into a distasteful scowl.

“You should’ve remained holed up in your little valley, dragonlord. Look at you now, exposed and enslaved. The demonkin would laugh at how their mighty has fallen.”

Serenis’ eyes visibly twitched at the remark.

‘…Enslaved, is it?’

Serenis quietly noted the deity’s words. Finally, she opened her mouth.

“Gio…the meteor…the deaths that reek of this city…was it all your doing?”

“…My doing? Please. None of that would’ve ever happened if you hadn’t crossed the boundary.”

A mocking laughter slithered out of the Reaper’s lips.

“Innocents only died because you were hiding in their midst. The reason they died is because you’ve crossed your boundary, dragonlord. I merely took the liberty of handling the situation.”

Even at this point, Felicir hadn’t realized – that he’d never permitted Serenis to speak. That the dragonlord who should’ve been under his absolute control was freely speaking her mind.

That the gem hanging on her remaining arm was emitting a golden, brilliant glow.

“…Is that so?”

Serenis merely returned an emotionless answer to the Reaper, accompanied by an equally emotionless gaze.

And as soon as her answer was given, rows of prismatic chains burst forth from behind the winged figure, securing his legs and arms in place.

Felicir’s eyes jolted wide. Even without lowering his gaze, he could feel the magicked bindings taking hold of his body.

‘What? How is she still using magic?’

His internal question was soon answered as Felicir took note of the glowing bracelet on Serenis’ remaining wrist. When he finally took the time to properly study the artifact, he could sense a distinct aura resonating from the gleaming gem.

An aura that opposed him through mere existence: the opposition of death itself. The essence of life that protected its wearer from death’s will.

‘…Aldrid!’

Felicir’s thoughts were short-lived. When his attention returned to the dragonlord, a pair of glowing blue eyes were staring back at the Reaper. Even though Serenis was in her human form, Felicir’s eyes felt as if he could see an illusory image looming behind the dragonlord’s figure.

A massive white dragon was towering over, staring down the Reaper with a horrifying glare.

“…You’ve destroyed our legacy. You’ve destroyed our home. Even the second lord gave his life to protect the kin from your malice.”

Serenis’ hand slowly reached towards death’s throat.

‘Our legacy died in your hands.’

Just like it had a thousand years ago – as if to say it wouldn’t be any different this time.

‘…And with your death, will begin anew.’

The dragonlord’s mana-infused grip slowly closed in on the Reaper’s throat. Until she crushed all that remained between her fingers, she wouldn’t let go.

But she couldn’t feel, nor hear, the expected crunching of bones and flesh.

Instead, her outreaching hand was gripping at nothing – beyond a small, black crack that had opened in the air between her and Felicir.

‘…This is…’

Another series of mocking laughter exploded forth from Felicir. Several similar cracks formed in between the links of Serenis’ magicked chains, cutting them clean to release the captive Reaper.

A loud sigh could be heard off to the side.

“You can never be too careful before a demon, my friend.”

An unfamiliar voice.

When Serenis turned her eyes, she could see an elven figure walking out of a gate of sorts – a larger version of the tears that had surrounded Felciir moments ago. Once it closed back, the elf slowly approached their winged friend and the dragonlord before him.

Serenis, too, began to realize how ignorant she’d been.

The two men were very much present before the dragonlord. She could see their figures, hear their voices. However…

‘…Those cracks.’

To be precise, they weren’t simple cracks; similar as they may be, they weren’t even portals. No portal spell would sever a chain simply by forming between its links.

Serenis knew exactly what they were. And because she did, she couldn’t help but scowl at the second deity’s appearance.

Clyus briefly tipped his hat, giving a curt smile towards the dragon before him.

“Forgive me for the interruption. It’s quite troublesome for us if he dies, you see.”

“…”

During her previous life, Serenis had challenged the First with the rest of the demonkin. Even though she’d been the latest to arrive, she’d witnessed almost everything she could about the divinity’s capabilities.

Death had been the First’s most capable, lethal weapon.

And his most capable, protective shield, had been…

“…Space.”

Clyus visibly flinched at the dragonlord’s phrase. He returned a questioning gaze, hoping he’d misheard the dragon’s voice just now.

“…I’m sorry?”

Serenis didn’t bother to clarify. Instead, her mind busily scrambled for a solution in addressing her newest enemy.

But unlike before, her brethren weren’t here to help the dragonlord circumvent this divinity’s protection.

The Reaper watched the dragonlord’s silent contemplation with an amused gaze. He then spared a brief glance towards his elven friend.

Clyus, the Hermit.

Unlike the other members of the Twelve who were given their titles by mankind, the elf’s title had been given to him by the rest of the deities. The elf could never attain one from the people – not when he would always flee the scene at even the slightest recognition.

Admittedly, there were a number of other deities that weren’t very well-known amongst the people; some were lost in history, some more unknown than others. But Clyus was the only one whose identity had remained so thoroughly unknown.

In other words, hardly anyone knew what his domain was. Not even the Twelve fully knew the elf’s domain except Felicir.

But because he knew, the Reaper was all too certain of their safety. Even before a demonlord, their invulnerability should’ve been a given. For, Clyus’ domain was…

‘…Space.’

To an extent, mages could mimic Clyus’ travelling capabilities through their portals. However, what Clyus wielded wasn’t a simple portal spell; he could, quite literally, manipulate spatial areas as he pleased. After all, no portal spell could sever a chain simply by forming over it.

At Clyus’ behest, the very fabric of their world could be cracked open. Spatial connections could be severed at a moment’s notice, and distant areas could be connected just the same. When such spatial disturbances were thinly worn over their body, nothing could so much as even touch them – much like how Serenis’ grip had been unable to reach the Reaper’s throat.

A streak of lightning shot forth from Serenis’ side towards Clyus. However, the spell harmlessly sunk into an orange crack over his shoulder, reappearing down the block to instead crash into a building.

In the end, it didn’t matter what sort of magic Serenis would attack them with. She might as well have been firing her spells at the moon.

The dragonlord gritted her teeth. She slowly raised her remaining arm again, this time preparing hundreds of various spells to be fired in succession – maybe one of them would find its mark.

But before her spells were released, a blue portal appeared from behind her – accompanied by a rather familiar, but unexpected voice.

Truthfully, she’d expected Iris to walk out of the portal. Instead, it was someone she’d abandoned of her own accord.

“Review time.”

“…?”

“I do hope you remember our unit on coordinates…’Zion.’”

Karas casually stepped out of the portal, almost as if he were walking into his usual classrooms. His eyes briefly scanned the building Serenis’ spell had crashed into, then towards Clyus’ shoulder where the spell was supposed to land.

He didn’t need long. The professor reversed the calculation in a matter of seconds.

“Your coordinates are 5.66 at first arcana, 1.98 at second. Let’s see if your aim’s still as good as before.”

Both Felicir and Clyus quizzically stared at the professor. This strange, feathered individual had seemingly waltzed in to start speaking gibberish to the dragonlord.

But Serenis knew exactly what he was saying.

She didn’t bother questioning how or why Karas had suddenly appeared at her side. She instead focused her gaze over to the far right, aiming an orb of fire that launched itself towards a seemingly random lamppost off to her right.

Clyus narrowed his eyes, watching the dragonlord’s oddly aimed cast. He didn’t understand what she was doing, but his intuition was telling him that something was going wrong – extremely wrong.

As if to prove the deity’s thoughts correct, the flaming sphere blitzed across the air, only to vanish before ever reaching the lamppost.

…And reappeared right above Clyus’ shoulder, exploding into a mass of flames upon contact.

Serenis widened her eyes at the turnout. For the first time ever, she looked to her professor with an awe-inspired gaze.

Karas returned a proud smile, tapping his head twice.

“Last time, I showed you how hunters engage in combat. This, is how mages engage in combat.”