It wasn’t a cross, it was... soone carrying an injured person on their shoulders?
Julius made an unintelligible sound of confusion and surprise, the kind of noise that escaped when the mind struggled to process sothing completely unexpected.
It was the unmistakable mana of his father.
The energy signature was impossible to mistake... But feeling it here, now, in this desperate mont, seed like wishful thinking made manifest.
Dragarion erged completely, carrying Zhao with the casual walk of soone who had never experienced the need to make haste before.
But there was sothing strange that Ren recognized imdiately thanks to Mooshito’s analysis.
The professor had an extre case of mana poisoning; not only were the energy lines in his body visibly damaged, but he also showed severe signs of dicine toxicity.
The damage was extensive and systematic, the kind that accumulated over months of exposure beyond what any normal tar could safely endure. Ren could see how Zhao’s mana channels had been stretched beyond their natural limits, creating micro-fractures that would take careful healing to repair.
Ren managed, just by looking at him, to realize that Zhao had been taking a dangerously elevated amount of anti-mana poisoning dicine for a long ti. Surely due to finding himself in a concentration ring too high for him, even being a double tar.
The irony was bitter... a teacher who had spent years warning students about the dangers of mana overexposure, like he did in his first expedition, had been forced to endure exactly that fate in service to his kingdom...
♢♢♢♢
Ravenspire’s Gold ranks fled in terror upon realizing who they were really dealing with.
The power ring was now completely beyond their possibilities.
But the main group didn’t pay attention to them.
Tears fell from Julius’s eyes, but his face didn’t change. He only looked at his father with that impassive expression he had perfected over years of disappointnt and abandonnt.
Dragarion gazed at him while descending casually, and with one hand pulled sothing from his destroyed "expedition clothing": the now crumpled letter that Julius had sent with Zhao.
"It’s a low blow using ’her’ words to make stop my mission," Dragarion comnted with a smile that seed casually cheerful, as if discussing mild weather.
Everyone looked at him with different expressions. Most showed automatic respect, but Ren felt more than anything curiosity before the imposing figure.
Despite not being dressed at all like a King, wearing barely so stained and torn skins, he had a mana signature that imposed without doubt the sensation of absolute Royalty.
It was like being in the presence of a force of nature that had decided to take human form.
"I don’t know why you continue with the obsession of that mission," Julius told him, keeping his voice controlled though emotion leaked through the careful modulation. "But things here, in ’your kingdom’, are about to disappear if you don’t do anything."
Dragarion casually invoked dragon horns and beard, partial transformations that made the air beco denser with power.
"Yes, I’m already getting an idea of things," he nodded, evaluating the situation with ultra-fine senses.
He passed Zhao’s unconscious body to Julius.
"Heal him if you can," he said with the sa casualness. "I was going to return to try and save him anyway... He saved first so I owe at least that, and inside the wooden chamber we created he didn’t have more than a few weeks left before mana consud him. But I don’t know if a normal healer will be able to handle so much accumulated damage."
Dragarion was making the mood weird with his completely casual and relaxed deanor, as if everything around belonged to him by natural right.
He was at the absolute peak of power, though he seed unorthodox for a king.
Julius knew him perfectly...
This battle junkie was more like a reford thug with a good attitude who liked to play hero, but who didn’t pay too much attention to protocols or political subtleties.
At least he was on the side of justice, but operated completely outside the stress that affected everyone else. It was simultaneously reassuring and infuriating... salvation was about to be delivered by soone who seed incapable of taking anything seriously.
Dragarion, now with free arms, looked at Larissa, Sirius, and Selphira.
Larissa would have hugged him with affection but was asleep... So he approached those he referred to as "the mute and the old woman".
"My favorite people!" he laughed exaggeratedly while hitting Sirius’s shoulder several tis with pats that would have knocked down any normal person.
He realized that both were almost completely without mana.
"It must have been a hard battle," he comnted, and his face changed to sothing slightly more serious, the first crack in his casual deanor.
He looked at the ring on Selphira’s hand and told Sirius: "I see things were desperate for you to lend it."
Sirius, still with poker face, nodded silently.
Dragarion laughed with understanding, then took sleeping Selphira’s hand and carefully removed the ring.
"I’ll borrow it to do the cleanup," he told Sirius with a big smile and the sa casualness as soone asking to borrow salt. "I’ll bring it back when you’ve rested."
Sirius closed his eyes and nodded again.
"Don’t feel bad," Dragarion continued, putting the ring on a hand almost full of them as if those ancient rings were the most common accessory in the world. "You did a good job because our Yano still has it."
His expression beca more calculating, the casual mask slipping a bit.
"And although Yino thinks they can replace their third ring with this second one, they’re completely wrong. They need a third one, that’s unavoidable, and that one doesn’t co out for another nine years."
Ren and the girls began sweating nervously upon hearing the implication.
But Dragarion didn’t pay attention to them because he felt massive power in the distance.
"Seems there’s no ti for explanations," he murmured, beginning his complete transformation.
His form expanded while brilliant blue-erald scales covered his skin and massive wings sprouted from his back.
"See you later!" he shouted while shooting off at great speed that made the ground tremble with his takeoff.
He left everyone with many more questions than they had before his arrival.
♢♢♢♢
Arturo found himself at the top of the castle’s highest tower, looking toward the enormous "dragon" that dominated the sky above.
The retreating army had been desperately entering the castle to take refuge from the powerful storm and acid attacks of the Corrupted Wyvern-Dragon, but the reality was that even inside the fortified walls they wouldn’t be safe for long.
The situation was beyond desperate... retreat had beco simple delay of the inevitable rather than any aningful strategic repositioning.
The walls were already cracked from receiving just one direct attack, massive fissures snaking through ancient stone like scars. Arturo was exhausted from trying to lessen the effect with all his Qilin’s power, channeling energy to reinforce structures that hadn’t been designed with sufficient mana to resist this level of destruction.
Each bit of structural reinforcent cost him energy he couldn’t afford to spend, but letting the defenses fail would an imdiate annihilation for everyone sheltering within.
His Fire Wolverine had already been knocked out in the first exchanges. It hadn’t been able to do much more than defend its tar with its body due to the massive elental disadvantage that would only have increased the fire the wyvern would have bounced directly against the castle itself.
The situation was hopeless.
Already more than 2000 Yino soldiers had crossed the bridge and established positions within Yano territory. Although they couldn’t march in too large quantities because they were limited by the bridge’s width, in a few hours tens of thousands would be marching freely through Yano.
It was truly the end of the kingdom.
Venmont charged an enormous attack from his dominant aerial position, purple and golden energy accumulating around his mutated form like a miniature storm.
The power buildup was visible and terrifying.
Arturo shouted to all earth and wind tars from his elevated position, his voice amplified by beast techniques to reach all defenders.
"Maintain defense until we tire him out! Give everything you have!"
Empty words to boost morale... The Wyvern’s mana didn’t feel much smaller than before.
He transford to the maximum possible with his Qilin, golden horns sprouting from his forehead while earth power flowed through him toward the castle’s structures. He was trying to reinforce every wall, every tower, every foundation as much as possible.
The effort was heroic... and futile.
Soldiers responded imdiately, channeling their own remaining reserves to strengthen the massive barrier protecting them. Dozens of earth tars worked in perfect coordination.
But the Wyvern’s attack kept growing.
And growing.
The sphere of destruction Venmont had been accumulating promised to vaporize not only the castle, but all soldiers in the surrounding area.
The energy concentration was visible from miles away, a miniature green sun of malevolent intent.
Arturo looked upward, calculating in his final seconds whether their defenses would be sufficient.
They wouldn’t be.
It was the end.
Until a teor descended from the sky and struck it.
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