Originally, Seraphina had the sa worries as Ethan going into this battle. After all, she had only just stepped into the Lesser Deity tier and undergone her second awakening—there was no way for her to accurately gauge the full extent of her power yet.
So when she first faced off against the eight Dungeon Lords, along with the overwhelming swarm of 14th-Tier Black Dragons and 13th-Tier Legendary Units like Red Dragons and Shadow Dragons, the pressure was intense—crushing, even.
She knew exactly how crucial her strength was to this war. If she couldn’t hold the line, if she couldn’t shoulder that weight, then Erald Castle would be staring straight down the barrel of defeat.
Erald Castle... defeated?
That was sothing she absolutely refused to let happen.
Her deep affection for Ethan, and the way he cherished, nurtured, and believed in her—along with the loyalty of every soldier and Hero Unit who followed them—ant that Seraphina now carried a responsibility far greater than herself.
As Erald Castle’s strongest warrior, its future—and everyone’s lives—rested on her shoulders.
So from the very beginning, she was ready to go all in. She was prepared to fight with everything she had, to beco the decisive force that would turn the tide and lead Erald Castle to victory.
What she didn’t expect, though...
Was that even after she’d already overestimated her own strength before the battle began—she had still underestimated it.
That realization hit her like a breath of fresh air. The pressure that had been weighing her down suddenly lifted, and with it, her mindset began to shift. The fear and tension started to lt away, replaced by sothing else—sothing primal.
Excitent.
She wasn’t just holding her ground anymore—she was starting to enjoy the fight.
Even though Seraphina wasn’t from the chaotic, bloodthirsty lineages of the Black or Red Dragons—she was a Green Dragon, a race known in theory and reputation for their love of peace, quiet, and harmony—there was still no such thing as a "gentle" dragon.
Not really.
Every dragon, no matter their color or creed, carried within them a deep, feral instinct—a love for battle, a hunger for combat, a wild, untad fury.
The only difference was how they expressed it. So dragons wore their savagery on their scales, while others kept it simring just beneath the surface.
And now, with the weight on her shoulders easing and her inner restraints breaking down, Seraphina’s true nature was beginning to surface.
Her fighting style turned brutal—ruthless, unrestrained, and terrifyingly efficient.
"ROAR!"
"ROOOAAAR!"
The Black Dragons shrieked and howled, wild and bloodthirsty, circling her like vultures. They struck whenever they saw an opening, unleashing storm-like torrents of black dragonfire that exploded against her in waves of destruction, shaking the battlefield and filling the air with smoke and chaos.
But even with all that fury, they didn’t dare get too close.
Because they knew—if Seraphina caught even one of them slipping, if they gave her even the slightest opening—it would be instant death.
So they had no choice but to keep their distance, teaming up with the Dungeon Lords in a desperate attempt to wear her down, to drain her energy bit by bit with sheer numbers and relentless pressure.
But unfortunately for them, they weren’t fighting just anyone.
They were up against Seraphina—a Crimson Ultimate Hero, B-rank, second awakening, with over 80% evolution progress.
A being on an entirely different level. A monster in her own right.
"ROOOAAAR!!"
"A bunch of cowards! You really think you can run from my wrath? Keep dreaming!"
Seraphina’s roar tore through the sky like a thunderclap, her voice laced with fury and dominance. The sheer force of her dragon cry shook the heavens, echoing across the battlefield like a divine judgnt.
Then—BOOM.
A surge of overwhelming power erupted from deep within her, the Sacred Realm energy bursting out in a violent storm of destruction. It spread like a tidal wave, ripping through the air, tearing open the sky itself. The world around her seed to tremble under the weight of it—this wasn’t just power. This was divinity unleashed.
In an instant, the storm engulfed the surrounding Black Dragons, dragging them into its crushing grip.
THOOM!
"Venomous Dragon Breath!"
With another furious roar, Seraphina unleashed one of her most terrifying innate abilities. A beam of venomous energy, thick and seething like a pillar of death, shot from her maw and swept across the battlefield like a scythe through wheat.
Wherever the breath landed, Black Dragons scread in agony. Their roars turned to shrieks of pain as the venom tore through their bodies, lting flesh, rotting scales, and reducing them to withered husks in seconds.
It was a massacre.
And this wasn’t even her full strength.
Her claws alone could tear through these dragons like paper—this was her true power, her bloodline ability, a weapon of mass destruction that made her regular attacks look like child’s play.
This was domination. Pure and absolute.
"ROAR!!"
The remaining Dungeon Lords—seven of them still standing—and the surviving Black Dragons, snarling and frenzied just monts ago, now froze in place.
Their eyes widened. Their snarls died in their throats.
And then—they started backing away.
Panic.
Fear.
They had just watched their comrades get obliterated in seconds, and now, even the most savage among them hesitated. Their bloodlust was gone, replaced by sothing far more primal.
Survival instinct.
They didn’t want to fight anymore.
But Seraphina wasn’t done.
As the venomous storm finally began to fade, the true terror began to rise—the Sacred Realm’s power surged again.
For any Crimson Ultimate hero, the Sacred Realm was one of their most fearso trump cards. And Seraphina’s mastery of it? Far beyond even the devastation of her Venomous Dragon Breath.
BOOM!
And just like that, when the full force of the Sacred Realm finally erupted, more Black Dragons dropped from the sky like rain. Their corpses slamd into the ground one after another, piling up into grotesque mountains of death. The sight was nothing short of horrifying—like a battlefield straight out of a nightmare.
"ROAAAAARRRRR!!!"
The blood-soaked carnage sent Seraphina into a frenzy. She let out a deafening roar that shook the heavens. Her battle instincts were fully unleashed now—no more holding back, no more restraint. Maybe it was the rush of victory, or maybe the pressure had finally lifted, but she felt it in every fiber of her being:
Freedom. Pure, unfiltered exhilaration.
She felt alive.
"Co on! Keep going! What’s wrong, you cowards? Weren’t you all so eager to gang up on before? What, too scared now? Aren’t you supposed to be Black Dragons? Where’s that legendary pride? Where’s your damn courage?! You’re a disgrace to your entire species!"
Seraphina bellowed, her voice laced with fury and contempt. Her eyes, cold and rciless, swept across the remaining Dungeon Lords and the trembling Black Dragons still hovering in the air.
Then she started walking forward—slow, deliberate steps that echoed like war drums.
She wasn’t done.
Not even close.
The blood spilled so far? Barely a taste. She wanted more. She needed more. The battlefield wasn’t soaked enough. The enemy hadn’t suffered enough.
And the Dungeon Lords knew it.
They were furious—burning with rage—but helpless. As proud as they were, as fearless as their kind was known to be, there was no denying the truth:
They couldn’t win.
Not like this.
Their attacks were too restrained, too cautious. And against soone like Seraphina—a Crimson Ultimate hero who had undergone a second awakening and possessed insane regenerative abilities—half-asures were useless. They couldn’t land a killing blow. Hell, they could barely scratch her.
And the longer this dragged on, the worse it got.
If things kept going like this, they wouldn’t just lose.
They’d be worn down—bled out, one by one, until there was nothing left.
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