Throne weighed the possibility of using this moment to maneuver Ranni and Melina into direct conversation. Their mutual animosity made him the perpetual mediator, a role he found increasingly taxing.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words froze on his lips. His hand shot to the hilt of the longsword at his waist.
A figure stood nearby, cloaked in gray, her silhouette unmistakably feminine—curved, fluid, and commanding. Throne's grip tightened as he tilted his head slightly, catching the gleam of golden eyes with slit pupils. Eyes identical to his own when he invoked the Dragon Heart.
She didn't introduce herself. Instead, she dragged a stool across the floor, sat down, and crossed her legs with deliberate grace. Her voice dripped with amusement.
"Human, I'll share your table. You don't mind, do you?"
The restaurant had gone eerily quiet. Melina wiped a smear of cream from the corner of her mouth and straightened in her seat. Her gaze flicked to Throne, but he wasn't looking at her. His attention was fixed on the woman, his expression dazed, as though he'd stumbled into the presence of something far beyond human.
A dragon? Impossible, yet unmistakable.
Throne's muscles coiled like springs. Those eyes—he knew them too well. If Adula had discovered him, it stood to reason others could too. But this wasn't just any dragon. This was an Ancient Dragon, a relic of a bygone era, the apex predator of a forgotten age. Only they could take human form.
"Human, are you nervous?" Her hood concealed her face, but those golden eyes burned bright. "Don't fret. I'm merely curious. I've never heard of anyone gaining our power without the Dragon Communion ritual."
Throne leaned forward, his hand still on his sword. "May I ask your name?"
"Lansseax. You've heard of me, haven't you?"
So it was her. Vyke's dragon-woman, the Ancient Dragon famed for her crimson lightning blade. What did she want with him? Throne's thoughts raced, but he kept his voice steady.
"What, here to avenge Smarag?"
She laughed, a low, melodic sound that transformed her cold, serious face into something almost sultry. "Funny. Why would I avenge a weakling? I told you, I'm merely intrigued by you."
Her tone suggested trouble, and Throne hated trouble. "Intrigued? The Lands Between is crawling with knights. I'm no different."
"You are." Lansseax rested her chin on her hand, her expression a paradox—cold yet passionate, bewitching yet holy. Throne looked away, his gaze drifting to her forearms and lower legs, where gray scales shimmered delicately, like a pair of strange, elegant stockings.
"How am I different?" he asked.
She crossed her legs, her scarlet lips curling in a smile. "Powerful males are always eye-catching, aren't they? If you're interested, I'd like to experience your strange power firsthand."
Throne leaned back in his chair, his patience thinning. "Cut the crap. You just want to know how I got the dragon's power."
"Hmm, tell me. It's fascinating."
Her laughter was light, almost playful. She wasn't scheming or plotting. She didn't even seem interested in devouring him. She was merely curious, like a cat toying with a mouse.
Since ancient times, humans had tried every means to obtain the power of dragons, developing the flawed prayers of the Dragon Communion ritual. Lansseax found it all endlessly amusing. Humans, with their quiet ingenuity, had cultivated a new branch of power—and it seemed formidable.
"You became Caria's hero using this power. No wonder those fool mages couldn't stop you. This makes me very interested."
Dragonkind was arrogant, of course believing that Throne relied on their power to achieve victory; thinking about it made her feel comfortable.
"What if I say no?" Throne stared coldly at the other party. He wasn't a loser who couldn't walk straight upon seeing a woman, nor did he have any strange fetishes.
"I've dealt with humans for so long; I hate being refused." The dragon-woman still wore a smile and clapped her hands gently: "Make a request. You satisfy my curiosity, and I can satisfy some of your fantasies."
Melina looked back and forth, always feeling that this dragon-woman made her very uncomfortable, but neither of them paid attention to her. Lansseax stared at Throne. She was always like this and didn't think her attitude was a problem. Just as she was about to soothe the other party, her eyes narrowed.
"So that's how it is. But if you want someone to do something for you—" Throne flicked his thumb, and a brilliant sword light had already sliced the table in front of him.
"Taking off your clothes and kneeling on the ground is the basic etiquette!"
How sudden. The peaceful little shop was immediately shattered by the sword edge. Those plates flew into the air, and Throne felt a thread of heaviness.
Clang! Moonveil slashed onto Lansseax's raised arm. That hand, covered in gray dragon scales, actually sparked upon colliding with the blade, and the strong wind blew away her cloak. Her light pink hair fluttered, and her spirited face showed some surprise.
"Human, you are a bit too impatient. I have no malice."
"No, it's you who are too arrogant. Do you think I'm a grunt?" Throne laughed instead. How could he tell her his background? He didn't even bother to make one up, just lifted his foot.
"I hate rude people."
Bang!! A kick unleashed a storm. The dragon-woman in front of him disappeared. She crashed through the wall and flew directly onto the street. Looking at the furrowed tracks and the scattering crowd, her mouth curled up.
"Stronger than I imagined."
"Then who did you think I was?"
Before the voice arrived, the sharp long sword had already appeared above her head. Lansseax crossed her arms. She looked up and saw those eyes exactly like her own.
"Didn't you want to know the reason? I don't mind having a little extra meal either."
The blade rubbed against the scales, and Throne also looked at the other party quietly, then suddenly disappeared.
Whoosh—A dragon tail swept over like a whip. It seemed to have infinite power, tearing the houses on the street directly from the middle. Fortunately, the town didn't have many people. Throne hugged the ground, listening to the fierce wind above his head. Moonveil turned into a Carian Greatsword, and he raised his hand to slash at her leg.
Melina also appeared behind him suddenly and drew another short sword. That short sword, captured from a Black Knife Assassin and filled with Destined Death! She finally reacted; this was not an acquaintance, but an enemy.
One in front and one behind, one above and one below, Lansseax stepped hard on the ground, and her whole body shot into the sky like a rocket. This jump was more than ten meters high, and her cloak was completely torn apart. She spread four gray wings. Waving them slightly, it was like dancing in a barrage.
The target was small and flying fast. Comet Azur continued to streak across the sky, forming a dense rain of bullets. She glided and flipped in the air, then suddenly dived from the sky, spread her right hand, and condensed a bright red long sword.
That was a blade made of red lightning, like the cry of a thousand birds, and the speed of her dive was very fast, not inferior to a Crucible Knight.
Throne's pupils shrank. He leapt up, fierce and sudden, head snapping down to see the dragon-woman streak past his feet, her long tail whipping through the air. An enhanced Crucible Knight? Interesting.
He knew this move. Aspects of the Crucible: Tail. Twisting mid-air, he swung his own tail. The impact rang out—two muffled thuds—and they broke apart. Lansseax tumbled across the ground, her long hair wild and disheveled. Throne skidded to a halt, his blade carving a ten-meter gouge into the stone floor.
"Oh?" Lansseax brushed dust from her body, her tone laced with surprise. "You know the ancient Crucible prayers."
She hadn't expected this human to be full of surprises. This kind of power... it could rival the ancient Golden heroes.
"I know plenty of things," Throne replied with a smirk. It was a skill he'd stolen from a Crucible Knight. Strange, really—it didn't require the usual learning process like other prayers. A shame it wasn't the wings, though. That night, he'd held back, afraid a Black Knife Assassin might escape and expose his secret. The dragon race wouldn't share information with the Erdtree, but still, he couldn't afford carelessness. He chuckled, but his expression remained grave.
An Ancient Dragon, even in human form, surpasses a Crucible Knight. How many Ancient Dragons were left in the Lands Between? Fewer than demigods, surely.
Their eyes met, and in the next instant, both vanished. Two streaks of light erupted in the air—Carian Greatsword! Red Blade! Azure and crimson collided, flooding the town with midday brightness. They froze, locked in the aftermath.
Throne prepared to trap her with gravity, but Lansseax's hand shot up. Red lightning—He vanished into starlight just as the lightning struck. The ground erupted, houses collapsing one after another. Throne reappeared in the distance, watching as the area around Lansseax crackled with electricity. Everything within a hundred meters was scorched, tiles crystallized, the scene apocalyptic.
"Throne, she's strong," Melina said, her voice calm but urgent. She couldn't keep up with their speed, unable to assassinate, so she retreated into Throne's body, biding her time.
"She's scarcer than demigods," Throne muttered, unshaken. They were near Raya Lucaria Academy. Ranni and the others weren't blind. If he could stall long enough, reinforcements would arrive. Even an Ancient Dragon would fall.
"Waiting for reinforcements?" Lansseax hovered in the air, residual electricity crackling across her form, majestic and untouchable. "I don't intend to kill you, but don't test my patience."
"I don't want to be your enemy either. I just want to talk."
"Is this how you talk?" Lansseax spread her hands, shrugging with an almost human-like gesture.
"Can't help it. You're too strong, so I have to—"
Throne's blade flashed faster than sound, the pale ring of air trailing behind it.
"Break your limbs first!"
The sword was already at her throat, but Lansseax's smile didn't falter. Her right hand conjured a red blade, meeting his strike. The clash sent a shockwave through the church, the force bending her knees slightly. Then, her left hand rose. Another red lightning blade slashed toward Throne's arm.
She was serious now, intent on teaching this human a lesson. So what if he was a Golden hero? She'd eaten one before. The crimson arc crackled, numbing his body before the blade even reached him.
Melina burst from Throne's body in a flash of golden light. Her blade met the red one midair. She braced against his waist, compressing her body like a coiled spring. Throne's left hand shot out, palm flat against the dragon-woman's chest.
Comet Azur.
The explosion tore through the space between them. Zero-distance magic discharge sent all three flying in different directions. Energy waves rippled outward. Lansseax staggered back, steam rising from her scorched chest. When she looked up, her smile had vanished.
"Human, you're insane."
"Insane?" Throne took a swig from his crimson flask. "This is nothing!"
He grabbed Melina midair—her body still smoking—and hurled her like a javelin tipped with Destined Death.
"Stay, Ancient Dragon!"
Lansseax recoiled. Bells clanged in the distance. Carian knights charged across the battlefield. A Dark Moon swelled on the horizon.
Three minutes. A standoff.
She blinked, then grinned. Throne sprinted after her as she dove toward Liurnia's waters. Escape? He skidded to a halt at the shoreline. Not his element. For all he knew, jaws waited beneath those waves.
The lake turned crimson. Bubbles erupted like a boiling cauldron.
Boom—
A behemoth breached the surface. Stone-plated armor. A draconic maw lined with teeth. Two sets of wings blotting out the sky. Fifty meters of primordial terror made flesh. No illusions now. Lansseax revealed herself in full glory.
She turned her massive head, savoring the shock in Throne's eyes. Her roar shook the lakeshore. Wings beat once—propelling her hundreds of meters backward as magic arrows fizzed harmlessly in her wake. Every scale radiated dominance.
Throne stood quietly, wiping his hair soaked by the lake water.
"Very impressive."
His grip tightened on his sword.
"But don't you fucking run!"
Chaos erupted through the gate town. More clamor than when Caria's army first marched in at dawn.