Chapter 469: Monts Before…
[Monts Before…]
The earth pulsed in agony.
The clash between Strax and the Primordial Dragon reverberated like sacred thunder, making the stones vibrate beneath the feet of those still struggling to remain standing.
The sky was a separate battlefield—torn by flashes of mana and explosions of ancient essence. But here, among smoking rubble and broken pillars, the fight was silent, raw, and desperate.
Kryssia staggered, covered in blood and dust, her armor cracked in several places. Her shoulder bled nonstop, and her ice sword was now just a gleaming fragnt in her trembling hand.
Xenovia, kneeling beside her, tried to keep a spell lit, but the purple rune pulsed unsteadily, like a heart about to go out. Her sword lay fallen among the rubble, out of reach. Her gaze was already dancing between lucidity and collapse.
They were surrounded.
Three draconic creatures surrounded them like sentient shadows.
Shapeless beings, with thin bodies and scales that changed color every second, as if they reflected chaos in living form. They had no eyes, only holes that absorbed light, like portals to sothing that should never exist. Their mouths opened at the wrong angles. Their claws scratched reality as they passed.
Kryssia gathered her strength and twisted her body, driving the sword fragnt into the tendon of one of the creatures.
The monster roared, but before she could retreat, the beast’s serrated tail struck her brutally, throwing her like a doll against a collapsing wall. The stone shattered, and she stood still for a mont, breathless.
Xenovia scread her na, but the sound was swallowed by the roars.
She tried to stand, but her arms were failing her. The rune in her hand was shattering, and the mana around her was draining away as if it were being sucked dry.
“No… I can’t fall here…” she whispered, her voice weak.
“…”
One of the creatures was preparing its final strike.
And then a crimson bolt of lightning split the sky.
A single shot.
Silent. Precise. Lethal.
The projectile struck the creature’s head before it could reach Xenovia—and exploded from the inside out, in a crimson fla that wasn’t just fire. It was solid rage, shaped with murderous intent.
The smaller dragon fell soundlessly. Dead before it could understand what had hit it.
Xenovia looked up. And saw it.
She was there.
A colossal red dragon, looming above the ruins, its wings spread like veils of blood.
Her body was still smoking with the remains of the dragons that had fallen during her journey there.
Her eyes—two red stars—burned with pure fury.
The figure landed with a crash.
The earth shook beneath her claws.
And then, the voice they knew echoed, firm, mocking, and full of authority:
“You two are a ss.”
Xenovia’s eyes widened. “That voice… Scarlet?”
The creature laughed. A high-pitched and elegant sound, even coming from a draconic throat.
“You always were clever,” she replied, before sothing began to shine in the distance.
KRINNK!!
Two ice-blue spikes erged from the ground with devastating fury, piercing the two remaining dragons with surgical precision.
The monsters were impaled and frozen in mid-air, like statues condemned to an eternal end.
The temperature suddenly dropped—the air beca dense, almost still.
And then another colossal silhouette landed, with a glacial roar.
A dragon as white as eternal snow, with eyes like mirrors of the aurora borealis, touched down with icy grace.
A cold so pure emanated from its presence that the fires of the ruins recoiled.
“You are in really bad shape,” said the new figure, its voice resounding like the crackling of crystals.
Kryssia coughed, trying to raise her head. “Cassandra…? Is that you?”
The two warriors were confused—stunned. They had never seen them like this.
“A lot happened on the trip,” Scarlet replied, as her body began to change, shrinking, transforming back into her semi-human form, with her long flaming hair and the red bow in her hands.
Cassandra transford as well. Her wings were retracted, and her body took on a slender shape, covered by a tunic of ice and her eyes serene as living glaciers.
“You are not alone in this,” Cassandra said, approaching Kryssia and touching her shoulder. A restorative blue glow ran through her body.
“And you never were,” Scarlet added, lifting Xenovia with a gesture.
Above them, the sky exploded with Strax’s final clash.
The world was crumbling on all sides.
But there, in that circle of ground sacred to sacrifice and loyalty, the fla of hope was rekindled.
And together—four of them now—they advanced once more.
Vorah was still breathing.
And as long as they were breathing, the world could still be saved.
Xenovia was still limping as she approached, her face streaked with blood and ash. She stared at Scarlet and Cassandra with wide eyes—and for a mont, she seed like a child before goddesses.
“What… what happened?” she asked, her voice hoarse, as if she feared the answer.
Scarlet let out a sigh. She spoke as if she had already accepted truths too great to explain calmly.
“Strax turned us into dragons. After… we died.”
Silence.
The air seed to hold its breath.
Kryssia took a step forward, even though she was staggering. “Did they die?… Did you die?!”
Cassandra smiled. A smile too light for the weight of what she was saying.
“Yeah, it was… complicated. The Spirit King killed us. Long story. But then our husband just told us to co back and we were reborn as dragons.” She shrugged, as if explaining sothing trivial. “Now we’re fine. Or… as close to that as possible.”
Xenovia just blinked, astonished.
Scarlet finished with a lopsided smile:
“In short: we died, beca legends, ca back as dragons, and now we’re here. Because he believed we still had sothing to do.”
ROOOOOOOARRRRRR
Scarlet smiled at the corner of her mouth, crossing her arms.
“Oh… sure. The party is complete.” She said in an almost ironic voice. “Samira, Beatrice, Monica, Daniella, Bellatrix… they’ve all transford too.”
She tilted her head slightly as she watched Bellatrix stab an enemy dragon with a spear made of ethereal bones, then spin gracefully in the air.
“And, well… it looks like you’re having a great ti.” She sighed softly, almost proudly.
Kryssia was still panting, staring at the dancing shapes of destruction in the sky with a mixture of amazent and disbelief.
“You all… turned into dragons? How…?”
Cassandra laughed softly beside her, the sound reverberating with a faint icy echo.
“When Strax breaks the rules, he does it right.”
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