Chapter 518: Chapter 518

Boram once again keenly felt the bite of his own stupidity.

He foolishly kept moving forward, pushing the Empire’s defense line back to the castle walls with the other Latias forces. He got drunk on the allies’ cheers and killing enemies as he pressed ever forward. He breached the castle, and somewhere here, Master Avel was being held. Boram fully intended to break into every room and kill every imperial to find out his Master’s location.

Only, the sudden emergence of the goat demon skewed Boram’s plan somewhat. It was close but luckily Boram didn't get a direct hit from the demon’s appearance. He was able to guard his mind from the demonic influence too. Not all could say the same, even higher Level Pathseekers than himself.

Grandia Castle, which was now under the demon’s shadow, was in utter chaos.

Finding his master was now like finding a needle in a haystack that was already blown by a tornado and on fire. An unlikely proposition.

It was only then that Boram realized he had something he could use to sense his Master’s location, the proof of membership to the Arcanum Club bestowed upon him by Master’s own hand.

Arcana Card number XI - The Strength.

He sent his intent to the card, and to his surprise, the signal came from behind him, moving towards the Kingdom’s position, on the opposite side of the now half-destroyed Grandia Castle.

Boram cursed his own stupidity. He should have thought about it sooner. What was the meaning of him storming the Grandia Castle now? With the demon’s appearance, the place had become extremely dangerous. The Level 5s and the demon’s own power clashed many times and the fallout rained down on Boram’s head.

If he died because of such a colossal degree of idiocy, what an insult it would be to Master Avel’s legacy. No. He had to survive. He must not disgrace his Master even more than this!

During his retreat, not an easy one because of the crumbling castle and stray deadly Artes, Boram caught sight of a certain woman. She was crying on her knees and seemingly had given up hope. Boram recognized her from the Grand Prix; she was in Prince Lutz’s team. Her name was P-something.

“Hey, get up! We need to leave.”

“Leave me be... I’ve got no reason to live anymore,” the blonde woman looked down at the ground, clutching a pendant in her hands.

Boram had no time for this and hoisted her on his shoulder. She was Prince Lutz’s team and Prince Lutz was Prince Croix’s ally. Sort of? Either way, Boram didn't think he should leave her here. Fortunately, the woman didn't resist.

The retreat from the castle was not easy but Boram was not unskilled. While he was forbidden from attempting to cross to Level 4 by his Master, he didn't let his growth stagnate. The polishing of his abilities, especially his Giant heritage, had proven useful time and time again during the war. What would cause a mortal wound to others, Boram walked it off. It garnered him quite a reputation but Boram knew the credit was all on his Master. He, by himself, wouldn't know where to start but his Master laid down the road for him.

Because of the demon, Grandia Castle was like a kicked ant’s nest. The ants were scattering in all directions. Boram was like one of such ants.

He saw a great mandala forming in the sky as he ran. It had the sigil of the Estellian Church. He wondered what that meant but the most important thing was to keep running.

When he arrived at the Latias camp, the situation was also heated, despite being far from the demon. No, wait. Boram felt something was off. They were doing battle. Were they under attack?

“Take care of her,” Boram entrusted the woman with a blank expression to a nearby knight and went to the source of the commotion. Worse still, his Master’s signal was coming from there.

It was then Boram beheld that Rostov, one of the Harkelan Empire’s Ten Tundras, was about to skewer Master Avel with a floating, ten-meter-long spear of ice.

Boram wouldn't let it happen.

The world slowed down as Boram moved with superspeed and placed himself between Master Avel and harm’s way. A voice in Boram’s head said this was stupid. How could he defend against a Level 5 attack? Boram wasn't thinking, not really. His Master looked wounded and weak and in danger. Boram’s body moved on instinct.

It wasn't Rostov’s full power attack, but even then Boram had to draw on every inch of his bloodline and ability to defend against the spear. Even then the spear bit deep into his stone-scaled arms. The wound wasn't too bad but the force of the spear, however, he couldn't stop.

Earlier, Duke Valentine was struck down by the goat demon.

It was a bad hit, Croix bit inside of his cheek. The duke visibly fell to the ground. Goddess willing, he survived.

“Go to your father. We’ll be fine.”

Ciel Valentine gave a grateful nod before leaving like a flash of light. Not that she was under Croix’s command in the first place. This was no longer the Grand Prix.

The demon was a menace. Even with Celestine bringing a fresh army, this foe was beyond any of them. Thankfully, the guardian of the world seemed to have noticed. Whether it was a contingency or a beacon, there was a gigantic mandala with the Estellian Church's sigil forming in the sky. It began to form with the demon’s appearance and became increasingly clear and detailed.

It gave many people hope, including Croix.

But first, he should link up with Avel, who had just returned, courtesy of the mysterious White Bloom. Croix suspected they knew each other.

Croix’s relief turned upside down when Rostov fell near them. Despite hitting the ground at great speed, the man managed to rise out of a crater without any major injury, at least in Croix’s eyes. Despite being in the middle of enemies, Rostov confidently walked towards Avel.

It wasn't that great of a voice, but it caused the knights to cower. White Bloom summoned a locust -her familiar?- but Rostov swept his arm to the side and a deluge of snow swept away White Bloom and many more. His entire focus was on Avel the whole time.

Croix needed to do something... but what?

He was far too weak to do anything here. Is this the end? At this range, a Level 5 could easily kill them all in a heartbeat. Some began to flee, but Croix couldn't. He couldn't leave his comrades behind.

He mirthfully wondered why it became ... The tournament was no longer a thing, broken by the invasion. They were winning the Battle of the Grandia Castle, but a demon appeared and it all went to the blender.

Croix wanted to ask that of any deity that was listening.

He was thinking nonsense. Was this because he was staring death in the eye? Perhaps.

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“What are the odds you just got hit and instead of you becoming a twinkle in the horizon, you landed so close to me?” Avel said, his voice calm. “Ridiculously low. Therefore, I don't think this is a coincidence at all.”

“I agree. It seems Fate has given me the opportunity to fix my mistake. Die, child. You’re an eyesore.”

Rostov sent a spear of ice at Avel. Boram appeared just in time but he was carried away by the spear’s force. Avel tried to do something but he was slow. Too slow even. That wasn't a Level 4 Pathseeker’s speed. Croix deduced that the slave seal must still be affecting him.

Rostov must have wanted to kill Avel so much. He choked Avel and lifted him until his legs didn't touch the ground.

“I can order you to die but I won't be satisfied. I want to see the light dim from your eyes.”

“I know the secret that Delmar Acre refused to tell you.”

White Bloom appeared from the snow behind Rostov like a ghost.

Catching a Level 5 off guard was not easy indeed. Even when Avel distracted Rostov and White Bloom with a perfect follow-up. The Level 5 still had defenses in place, without turning a rain of icicles struck at the masked woman. Rostov’s automatic defense. White Bloom dodged most of it like threading the needle with incredible skill. Her mask was split open but she managed to touch Rostov’s back.

Croix’s eyes went wide. He thought Rostov would have crushed White Bloom in retaliation, instead he just... stood still.

“Too close... We must leave, Viers-sama! We have only one minute, tops!”

“No. You must go. Leave me here. You and Boram gave me the opening I needed. I’ll do the rest.”

“Go! As far as you can! Trust me!” Avel said.

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Avel also gave a nod to Croix. The prince chose to trust him.

“Everyone, run!” Croix said out loud and retreated with Falmerion as fast as he could.

Viers was still suspended by Rostov hand. Sakuya had bought him less than a minute and before that, Boram’s valiant defense. Two great feats but one minute was not enough to escape. He couldn't escape, then so be it.

Viers spoke the words.

“Crow and Declaration.”

A blue mark containing impressive power appeared on his chest.

“Between Front and Back.”

A red stream of life energy was merging with the blue mark.

“Hollow Technique: Purple!”

Throughout Heaven and Earth, I Alone Am The Honored One.

Rostov’s time stop ended as Viers spoke the last syllable. Blue and red combined, a purple explosion blew up on his face!

An earth-shattering explosion! Was what Rostov experienced as his bone vibrated and skin cooked. The stupefied expression he had before the ignition was priceless. He must have wondered how someone he regarded as a mere insect actually could unleash the power of a Level 5?

Viers was pleased. That was the price of being such a pain in the ass. His ass.

The Harkelan general couldn't have known that a certain Level 5 countess once put a bomb inside Viers, as protection for her nephew, Prince Croix. Viers couldn't fault Countess Grace for this, for she was a practical woman.

After a deal between them that resulted in the contessa rescuing her sister -Croix’s mother- from the Chancellor’s captivity, Viers was given the ‘deactivation code’ for the bomb.

And yet, Viers didn't defuse it.

Precisely for something .

The power invested in the bomb was the equivalent of a Level 5 full-powered Arte. Rostov, who ate it at zero range, wouldn't come out unscathed. Furthermore, Viers infused the bomb with his life energy, shortening his own lifespan in the process. As a bonus, the slave seal or whatever else, would have been scoured to the last bits by the violent explosion.

Besides, he needed red to combine with the countess’ blue to get purple, so... yeah. Burning life it is.

Viers’ Hollow Technique: Purple would have reduced Shibuya to smithereens. He would have kicked Rostov’s butt and he would be Gojo Satoru for an instant. And oh what a delightful experience it was.

And just like Gojo in that scene, he paid the price. After all, a literal bomb exploded inside his own body. He essentially became a suicide bomber. How could it not affect Viers?

Viers was on his way to the grave.

Croix picked himself up from the snow, so did Falmerion.

The explosion missed him just enough. He saw it as he escaped. Avel sacrificed himself to bring down Rostov.

He saved us all at the expense of his own life!

A heavy sense of loss threatened to sink Croix’s heart. With a blank look, he surveyed the aftermath. A smoking crater.

Wrong. It was Rostov who walked out. Heavily injured and missing an arm.

“Fucking madman. Duplicitous, cowardly, son of a bitch! May he suffer eternally in Hell!”

“NO!” Croix denied him. “He’s a brave man. I won't let you say otherwise!”

Rostov’s eyes, or eye, Croix saw, landed on him. The left one only had a bloody socket.

“I know you, princeling. From a line of usurpers and thieves. I will correct history's mistakes and restore the Empire’s rightful territory. Within it, there is no place for you or your ilk.”

“Greed and envy. That is what brought you here. You’ll find no sons and daughters of Latias bending their knee to imperial tyrants!”

Rostov, injured as he was, was still a Level 5 that could snuff Croix’s out with one finger. The punished Croix by using insolent words. The prince was subjected to a crushing Level 5 pressure.

Even with shaking knees, the Level 3 prince with partially red hair didn't kneel.

“I am... Croix Ash Latias. As a representative of my people, I will not kneel to you, Imperial!”

“Child, you’re shaking like a newborn fawn. You think you’re some sort of hero? Know your place.” Rostov increased the pressure.

Hero. The word reminded Croix of the conversation he had with Avel about the very subject. Croix’s heart was emboldened.

“Yes I am. I will become a hero! And I will become king! A protector of the Kingdom!”

The shout was loud and clear, without hesitation and tarnish.

“You’re unqualified to say such a thing, weakling.”

Rostov sent an Arte blast at Croix. The prince drew his sword, squeezed every drop of his courage and charged at something that would reduce him to dust.

“Well said, Son of Athos.”

A dragon emerged from the smoke behind Rostov and crushed the imperial with its claws. Another dragon shielded Croix from annihilation.

The later, Croix recognized as Falmerion. The former, he was unfamiliar with.

No, actually he knew this dragon!

Once, he caught a glimpse of this blue serpentine dragon while he was a hunted prince. The second time was at Masere Port. Both times, when the dragon appeared, it changed the situation for the better.

And now this was the third time it had helped him. It was no longer a mere coincidence. Croix had never heard the dragon speak before, though, until now.

“A-Avel! Is that you!?”

“Spoken like a true heir of Athos. Ready yourself, prince of man, for the foe is not yet vanquished.”

Croix heard the blue dragon’s words in his mind. It was Avel’s voice, or Viers’. Either way, he survived. It then dawned on Croix. Is this his TRUE form!?

The blue drake possessed no wings like Falmerion but had fins. The dorsal plate on his back was menacing and imposing. His scales shimmered blue like the surface of the sea touched by morning light. The blue eyes contained depthless wisdom and mysteries.

A dragon among dragons. The exotic regal’s appearance was not the only telltale. A pureblood, just like Falmerion. Croix knew this. He couldn't measure its level of power and most of his serpentine body was hidden in the dust but it was big enough to pin down an adult male with one of his arms.

Falmerion himself looked at the blue dragon like a child seeing his cool uncle.

Rostov was livid. With a scream and Victa lashing out, he knocked the blue dragon’s arm away from him.

“Insolent lizard! I’ll make shoes out of your hide!”

“Hehehe. You are unworthy, mortal,“ the blue dragon talked back.

They would fight, Croix observed, and he refused to be on the sidelines.

His bonded dragon answered the call of his soul. Croix poured his all into the Dragon Evolution Arte. Croix’s hair changed to a deeper shade of red. It was entirely flame-red now.

There was another dragon that called him the Son of Athos, the first king of the Latias Kingdom. It was Archion the Red Skies. The Elder Dragon that resided at Archion Volcano, where Croix awakened as a Pathseeker and where Falmerion hatched, under the auspices of the great dragon.

While the blue dragon didn't give Croix the ancient presence that Archion had, since they both called him son of Athos, perhaps they were related? Was that why the dragon approached him in the guise of a human? Now everything about Avel’s mysteriousness somewhat made sense!

Falmerion grew, his power increased from 3 to 4 to 5! The young red dragon now was the same size as his blue kindred. The spread wings was like announcing to heaven and earth that an apex being was here! Never before had Croix been able to evolve Falmerion into a Rank 5. It couldn't come at a better time.

“Attack!” Croix mounted Falmerion and gave the order. “NO MERCY!”

“Hahahaha! This great one has none to give!”

Two layers of Dragon Fear, two of True Dragons, one of fire and one of water, assaulted the heavily wounded Level 5.

The blue dragon’s dorsal plate lit up with deep blue light, starting from the tail-end to the last one on the upper back. As if signifying full charge, a light of destruction came out from his mouth!

The red dragon’s wings were extended. The membrane began to turn red, like the color of heated metal. The scales on his chest glowed red as he drew breaths, each brighter and hotter than the last, until the critical point!

The dragons unleashed their infamous Dragon’s Breath simultaneously, pincering him. Their eyes glowed with the color of their elements and sought only one thing: annihilation!

For the first time, Rostov felt his life was under threat.

As blue and red combined at the point of impact, the Level 5 was engulfed by purple light.

A certain man appeared above the skies of Grandia Castle. He had long black hair and wore a scholar’s garb.

The Sea-Rumbling Bull presence came from here! Someone here has the Guardian Beast’s core in their person! I must find him!

A fish had finally eaten the bait Viers dangled.

The first one who noticed Wen Shenhu’s appearance was Sal Marag, the goat demon who was in the process of absorbing the vitality of the land. Viers was too preoccupied butchering his foe one piece at a time. The immortal and demon locked eyes, like looking at a great enemy.