Her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Her chest ached from the strain of her heavy breathing.
The overwhelming pain made it hard to even look ahead.
She felt like she might collapse at any moment.
This was the first time she had ever been driven into such a corner.
After all, there shouldn’t have been anyone capable of threatening an existence like an Ancestral Dragon.
For the first time, she could sense her own death looming.
In stark contrast stood the opponent before Sion: the Demon King, Gettya, who bore no visible wounds.
Horns protruded from his head.
His eyes radiated arrogance.
His expression was so composed it bordered on indifference toward everything in the world.
However, such indifference couldn’t simply be dismissed as arrogance.
It was backed by a strength that justified such confidence.
Even an Ancestral Dragon at its prime could barely seal him away.
And that, too, was achieved not by her strength alone, but with the help of companions and heroes of that era—a makeshift solution born of desperation.
Now, with her body battered and broken, she was forced to face an opponent she couldn’t defeat even at her best.
The disparity was glaringly evident.
The Ancestral Dragon was utterly overwhelmed by pure power.
The fact she was still breathing was a miracle.
Though she had struggled and struggled to buy time, she had now reached her limit.
***
“Foolish. Had you discarded what you could afford to lose, you might have retained a sliver of hope for victory.”
She should not have stepped in to protect Riyan.
Had she prioritized preserving her strength while ignoring the deaths of other students, things might not have gone so awry.
Gettya looked down at Sion as he spoke.
Of course, she did not regret saving Riyan.
Nor did she regret refusing to abandon the students.
However, she couldn’t deny the truth in his words.
If she had abandoned them, her chances of victory might have risen.
Perhaps she could have prevented the calamity that was to come.
But Sion hadn’t made that choice, and thus, her fate was now sealed.
She would die.
There was no way to resist that death.
The overwhelming difference in power was too great.
With just a flick of Gettya’s hand, her battered body would be erased without a trace.
It was an utterly despairing situation.
And yet…
The Ancestral Dragon did not give up.
Even though she had no choice but to surrender, she refused to do so.
Because she knew someone.
‘Did he feel the same as I do now?’
Everyone fears death.
The Ancestral Dragon was no exception.
Her hands trembled, and her legs felt like they would give out beneath her.
But surely Riyan had felt the same way.
Her body had been utterly wrecked by side effects, leaving her in a ruined state.
There was no way to win.
Her opponent was in an entirely different league.
Despite knowing all this, Riyan always pushed forward.
Sometimes to save her students.
Sometimes to protect the oppressed.
Sometimes to rescue those suffering from war.
Surely, she must have been terrified and wanted to run away.
Yet in critical moments, she stood up for everyone, even when the danger she faced was far greater than this.
‘So how could Sion run now?’
She steadied her trembling legs.
Taking a deep breath, she locked eyes with Gettya.
“You’ve chosen to flail pitifully to the end. Well, it makes no difference.”
Even as she prepared for her final struggle, the Demon King remained utterly unfazed.
Hundreds of spears materialized behind Gettya.
With a single gesture, those spears would surely pierce through the Ancestral Dragon’s already broken body.
Her attacks would be neutralized by just one of his.
Sion would then collapse, bleeding on the ground, and meet her end.
It was an outcome as clear as day.
An outcome that seemed inevitable.
And yet, her body was not pierced by those spears.
For the first time, Gettya’s expression betrayed emotion.
The Demon King’s face twisted with displeasure.
The reason for this sudden turn of events was simple.
Someone had intervened in the battlefield between the Ancestral Dragon and the Demon King—a battlefield no one should have dared to approach.
It wasn’t the Mercenary King coming to lend aid.
It wasn’t Scott Fenrir, the Sword Saint among the professors.
Nor was it the genius magician Merlin arriving as backup.
From an objective perspective, the reinforcement was powerless.
Someone in no condition to fight, someone who needed protection.
Someone who should be shielded, not the other way around.
By all rational thought, Sion should have scolded them, demanding to know why they had come and ordering them to retreat.
But Sion couldn’t do that.
If anything, doing so would have been stranger.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Ancestral Dragon.”
Silver hair.
Golden eyes that met Sion’s gaze.
And a confident smile directed at her.
Reason yielded to emotion.
Though her mind understood there was no way to turn the tide, seeing Riyan filled her with unconditional certainty.
“Just like always. I’ll figure something out.”
There was no detailed logic or evidence to support the claim.
But none was needed.
Reasonable judgment and Riyan’s words left no doubt about what Sion should believe.
“Was it you? The one who drove my children to their deaths?”
A murderous intent filled the air.
Gettya glared down at me as he spoke.
Earlier, his face had been unnervingly expressionless, but the moment he laid eyes on me, he couldn’t hide his fury.
His hostility toward me was painfully evident.
It was only natural, considering the demons I had slain.
“I won’t give you a chance to plead your case. You’ll pay for what you’ve done here and now—with your life.”
When his attack came, I wasn’t surprised.
I had known it was coming.
All I needed to do was counter it with the measures I had prepared.
I used the magic extracted from a demon I had captured and detained earlier.
Using dark magic could easily get me killed, misunderstood as something monstrous.
Though I had never used it before, I built and activated a spell without hesitation.
Shadows formed a barrier around the Ancestral Dragon and me.
The spears hurtling toward me were swallowed by the shadows.
Of course, this was only a temporary fix.
The barrier wasn’t infinite, nor was the magic I extracted from the dying demon comparable in quantity to the magic Gettya wielded.
Gettya seemed to realize this, smirking at me.
“Your talent is certainly exceptional, but your body can’t keep up with it. What a tragic comedy.”
His tone was mocking, but I didn’t feel the need to argue.
He wasn’t wrong.
A flawed, incomplete talent.
Had I known nothing, at least I wouldn’t have felt so frustrated.
But knowing everything, only for my body to fail me when it mattered, was infuriating—a cruel joke played by the world.
But that was the story of the past.
A life where no amount of effort yielded results.
Yet, I had vowed never to give up.
Whatever flaws I had, I would overcome them.
And the means to do so had been within my grasp all along.
I just hadn’t realized it.
I drew upon every ounce of remaining magic and prepared a spell.
Gettya, though mocking, remained cautious.
He assumed there was a reason I had defeated other demons and took up a defensive stance.
But he was entirely off the mark.
I wasn’t targeting him.
The target of my curse was none other than myself.
***
Among the most basic of dark spells: Aging.
I cast it upon myself.
Normally, it would have been meaningless.
A waste of precious lifespan, only to weaken and die in agony.
But for me, it was different.
“Thanks for the gift, but natural death isn’t the issue here. It’s the scripted fate of dying in the original storyline that’s the problem.”
The students from my swordsmanship class had misunderstood me as terminally ill.
Out of concern, they had searched far and wide to find and force me to take the Elixir of Immortality.
I don’t age.
So, even if I used the aging spell, I had no fear of death from it.
What’s the point of not dying from aging?
What meaning could there be in accelerating my body’s timeline?
If asked, I would have answered with certainty: there is meaning.
“A blessing that allows evolution into a Dragonborne? That’s great, sure, but if it takes over ten years to align the wavelengths, it’s far too late. What’s the point of it, then?”
The day I first used Meteor Shower.
The Ancestral Dragon had engraved a blessing into me as thanks.
That blessing was meant to facilitate a future evolution.
By manipulating time through aging, I could skip over the years required for that evolution.
‘…In the end, everything had meaning after all.’
Once, I thought it was all meaningless.
The gratitude-filled blessing from the Ancestral Dragon, who gave me a reason to live.
The treasure painstakingly gathered by my students, who wanted me to survive.
It was their hearts and efforts that allowed me to stand here today.
***
I could feel my body being reconstructed.
For the first time, I felt omnipotent.
Horns and wings sprouted, and an unfathomable surge of magic coursed through me.
I rose into the air and met the Demon King’s gaze head-on.
His killing intent radiated toward me.
But I felt no fear.
At this moment, what I had to do was crystal clear.
‘…No more running away. I will take matters into my own hands and secure a happy ending.’