Iana’s wrist was tightly grasped by that Dragon, and at some point, the disguise of the Senro Breath Pearl on her body had vanished.
From her back sprouted a pair of jet-black wings, barely keeping pace with the speed of the Dragon as they soared through the air.
The Chasers behind them pursued relentlessly, stirring chaos in Iana’s heart.
Yet the scent emanating from the Dragon in front of her brought a strange sense of calm.
For some reason, Iana felt the Dragon’s aura was familiar—almost as if their bond was deeply intimate.
“Sephiroth?” Iana asked hesitantly, her voice doubtful, probing.
Yet even that small sound was almost swallowed by the roar of the wind as they flew at high speed.
But no matter how faint, a Dragon’s sharp hearing could catch even the slightest sound—especially with Iana so close to the Dragon.
The Dragon heard Iana’s call and turned her head.
In her golden-yellow eyes flashed a complicated expression.
She looked at Iana clinging tightly behind her and asked with confusion:
“Princess, do you really not recognize me? I am not Sephiroth, though Sephiroth does look somewhat like me…”
Her voice cut clearly through the harsh wind, laced with a thread of sadness and sorrow.
She had more to say, but the pursuing enemies gave them no chance to catch their breath.
A towering pillar of white light, charged with boundless power, surged toward them.
Iana sensed the destructive force within could easily obliterate the entire castle beneath their feet.
The attack was clearly overwhelming for just the two of them.
There was no time to dodge left or right.
The Dragon beat her wings fiercely and surged upward, and the two of them shot straight up like rockets.
“Princess, this is not the time for explanations. Once we’re safe, I will explain everything…”
Before she could finish, the Dragon’s voice abruptly faltered.
Her golden eyes snapped shut.
The wings that had been beating so hard wrapped tightly around Iana’s body.
Iana felt herself sinking into something soft, while a faint milky scent lingered at her nose.
Her vision was blocked by those large, sinister masses, and everything around was pitch black—but she did not feel fear.
Instead, a comforting warmth rose within her, as if she had fallen into a mother’s embrace.
Iana could see nothing.
With her vision lost, her other senses—hearing, smell, touch—grew far more acute than before.
Her ears twitched lightly, catching a muffled groan from the Dragon in front of her.
Then Iana felt a warm liquid seep into her clothes.
Without the wing beats, the two of them were now free-falling through the air, dropping rapidly like a lump of iron.
The Dragon opened the wings enclosing Iana, letting light return to her sight.
A faint smile appeared on the Dragon’s pale face.
Iana couldn’t tell what that smile meant.
Perhaps it was relief at being freed.
But Iana felt it was more likely the joy of believing she had protected the Princess.
“Fly forward. Don’t look back. Until you’ve flown beyond the Demonkin’s territory.” Her voice was strained and growing weaker.
“One last favor, Princess… please take my sister with you, alright?”
Before Iana could respond, several weaker pillars of light streaked toward them.
The Dragon didn’t wait for Iana’s answer.
She pushed Iana aside and was struck by the beams herself, collapsing where she stood.
“No!” Iana watched helplessly as the light pierced through her body, watching her blood blossom in midair.
“Sis!!!”
A heart-wrenching scream came from below.
Iana looked down and saw a tiny figure sprinting desperately in the castle’s corner—a young Dragon even smaller than Iana.
With small, chubby hands, it reached out toward the spot where the Dragon had fallen.
Tears streamed down its face recklessly, as if it cost nothing.
“Sephiroth.” Iana clearly felt the aura of that Dragon below—not just similar to Sephiroth, but it was Sephiroth herself.
Iana’s heart was gripped tightly by an invisible hand, the pain so intense she nearly suffocated.
She wanted to dive down and take Sephiroth away, at least to somewhere safe—but her body was turning increasingly transparent.
“Iana, wake up, please.”
Elia’s familiar voice sounded as if right beside her ear—so clear, so loud.
Iana suddenly opened her eyes.
She was lying inside a carriage, cold sweat soaking her back.
Elia’s anxious face was just inches away.
Outside, the sounds of battle and beast roars still raged, as if none of what had just happened had changed anything.
“What just happened to me?”
Iana hadn’t yet escaped the shadow of what she’d experienced.
Everything had felt too real.
She still recalled the warm Dragon blood on her clothes and the heart-rending cries of young Sephiroth.
“You saw that kind of creature just now, didn’t you?” Elia said, as if she already knew what Iana had endured.
Iana nodded, confirming Elia was right.
“Anyone who looks directly at that creature gets pulled into a certain emotion—maybe sadness, anger, happiness, or any of the seven emotions. They dig deep into the viewer’s memories, constructing a scene so real it’s indistinguishable from truth.”
“Digging into the memories? But the experience I just had… wasn’t part of my memories,” Iana pondered slowly.
“Is that so? That contradicts what we’ve learned so far. Could you have had amnesia before and forgotten that experience?”
“No, impossible. I remember all my memories clearly from childhood till now. That can’t be the case.” Iana shook her head, rejecting Elia’s suggestion.
“By the way, what about that Special Creature? If you can’t look at it directly, then how do we drive it away?”
Elia smiled softly and said gently, “If it can’t find a suitable host, it will leave on its own. As for how to kill it, we’re still researching.”
Hearing Elia’s answer, Iana felt a wave of doubt.
‘Still researching’ basically meant they had no method to deal with the creature yet.
“And what if the creature finds a satisfactory host?”
Elia’s expression turned grave immediately.
“If that happens, it will be a disaster for everyone on this Continent.”