Talulah glared with a cold, sharp gaze at the Draco who had stepped out from the surrounding purple flames. Though the newcomer wore a faint, mocking smile, her hostility was unmistakable.
Calling Talulah a greedy red dragon and accusing her of betraying Victoria were nothing more than petty insults meant to undermine her heritage. It was clear the woman was trying to use Talulah as a stepping stone, using cheap provocation to position herself as the sole savior in the eyes of the Taran people.
"A greedy red dragon? What a pathetic line," Talulah said with a bitter laugh. "I can only imagine how your family must have painted themselves as noble and selfless while casting everyone else down as if you alone were ever fit to rule this land. Utterly ridiculous."
Talulah had no intention of playing sovereign to the Taran populace, but she certainly wasn't about to let this newcomer trample her self-respect. If she turned tail and slunk away now, she would be dishonoring her ancestors, her house, and her friend who had stood beside her all this time. Her pride was not something some upstart dragon could use for target practice.
The open hostility between the two dragons left the surrounding Taran workers completely at a loss. They looked back and forth between the two legends, entirely unsure of whom they ought to follow.
Both were true Dracos of old tales, and either could easily be the prophesied leader meant to deliver them. Torn between the two, the crowd realized that picking a side was a matter that required careful thought.
Even though Talulah had just saved their lives from the incoming artillery, Dublinn had been operating in these streets for a long time. The residents weren't about to abandon a familiar faction overnight just to throw their lot in with an unknown newcomer.
Furthermore, the stranger had raised a valid point: Talulah was ultimately an outsider, a dragon with no ties left to Victoria. For the local Tarans, that was a crucial factor to consider.
Not that Talulah cared about leading them. All she wanted was to wrap up this mess so she and Jeanne could go their own way.
"So that's how you feel," the high-standing Draco replied with a casual shrug, unaffected by Talulah's venom. "In that case, would you mind taking your leave from County Hillock, 'outsider'? What happens here is between Victoria and Tarans. An Ursine traveler has no business sticking her nose into our affairs."
If possible, she didn't want a drawn-out conflict with these two mysterious figures—especially considering the terrifying woman standing right behind Talulah.
She cast a wary glance toward Jeanne. The golden-haired girl was watching her with an unreadable expression, making it impossible to tell whether she was sizing her up as an enemy or simply judging her.
In reality, Jeanne wasn't treating her as a proper threat—she was just plain annoyed. Who gave this random dragon permission to talk down to Talulah like that? Only she can bully her silly dragon.
If the woman hadn't been keeping her distance, Jeanne would have already marched over to teach her a lesson she wouldn't forget.
Jeanne then offered Talulah a quick, disappointed side-glance, like a mother watching her kid get pushed around on the playground. You're seriously letting another dragon talk over you like that? What do you even do all day? Step it up, Talulah!
Fortunately, Talulah's focus was entirely locked onto her kin, so she missed Jeanne's exasperated look completely—otherwise, she would have turned around and picked a fight with Jeanne right then and there.
"I have no interest in getting dragged into Victorian politics or Taran affairs," Talulah said coldly, taking a step forward. "That is your own mess to sort out. But I do care about one thing: are you using the name of the ancient Draco Kings as an excuse to bring ruin upon these people?"
The high-standing Draco froze for a fraction of a second, her smile fading into silence.
The purple flames surrounding her burned hotter, pulsing with an intense heat despite their eerie, ghost-like appearance. Her Arts operated on a completely different principle than Talulah's roaring fire.
"That is none of your concern, daughter of a broken line!" she hissed, snapping her fingers. "If your family hadn't chosen that foolish path of compromise, we would never have been reduced to this!"
At her signal, dark silhouettes began pouring out from the surrounding alleys. Dozens of armed Dublinn soldiers surrounded the central square, locking Jeanne and Talulah in a tight perimeter.
Seeing the imminent clash, the Taran civilians scattered like startled birds, scrambling back into their homes to watch through cracked shutters.
Though many had viewed Talulah as their protector just moments ago, their pragmatic survival instincts took over. In a standoff like this, the populace would simply align with whoever emerged victorious.
"So you're choosing to do this the hard way?" Jeanne raised her standard, eyeing the surrounding squad captains.
"My terms are simple," the leader of Dublinn said, quietly taking two steps back to keep out of range of Jeanne's strange Arts. "Hand over the Artorius family relic, then go back to Ursus and build your little haven for the infected. The Taran cause, Victoria, and the fate of the Draco have nothing to do with you."
"The Artorius relic?" Talulah's eyes narrowed as the piece connected in her mind. "You're after that tomb?"
Realizing what the woman was truly after, Talulah knew there was zero chance she would hand it over.
"Hand it over, and you walk," the dragon replied flatly.
The purple flames expanded, sweeping toward the center of the square, only to crash violently into a wall of roaring red fire conjured by Talulah. The collision of opposing Arts triggered a series of sharp detonations, sending several forward soldiers flying through the air.
Neither leader paid any mind to the foot soldiers caught in the crossfire. The air between them crackled as their Arts clashed, while Talulah kept a vigilant eye on the surrounding troops preparing to rush them.
Before Jeanne could step in to assist her friend, a massive stone construct came hurtling through the air straight toward her, accompanied by a shrill, hysterical scream.
Mandragora had singled out the golden-haired woman immediately. If it weren't for this pest, she wouldn't have suffered so many humiliating setbacks in front of her Leader. She wanted blood!
Whatever insults Mandragora was shrieking were entirely drowned out by the grinding roar of the stone construct. Jeanne didn't even bother to listen. She braced her foot, pulled her right arm back, and slammed a bare fist straight into the center of the stone giant.
CRACK!
The massive stone construct shattered into a shower of gravel under the sheer force of the impact!
Mandragora froze mid-stride, her eyes wide with total disbelief. She couldn't process the fact that someone had just smashed through her heavy construct using brute strength alone!
Before she could form another spell, a golden blur closed the distance in the blink of an eye. A heavy fist slammed into her chest, shattering her defensive Arts barrier and sending her airborne.
THWACK!
Mandragora was hurled backward like a broken doll, tumbling across the cobblestones before coming to a violent halt.
Jeanne flexed her fingers, shaking her hand out with a quiet sigh. The hit hadn't connected quite right—at the very last second, Mandragora had managed to deploy a second layer of stone armor to cushion the blow.
Otherwise, that single punch would have broken every rib in the cat's body, leaving her completely out of the fight.
"I didn't even put any muscle into that," Jeanne remarked, looking down at the groaning Feline with a unimpressed expression. "And you're down already?"