Chapter 454 Don't Play With Fire

Chapter 454 Don't Play With Fire

The final draconian soldier fell, cleaved by the arc of Asher's blazing ring blade, a deadly crescent that left nothing but destruction in its wake. The ground below was a grim image, charred and scorched, proof of the fierce battle that had raged. For miles, the remnants of the draconian forces lay scattered, a silent, dark chorus to the cost of fighting a monster they couldn't comprehend.

Asher, his form still wreathed in the remnants of dark green flames, allowed no time for reflection upon the desolation below. With a swiftness that belied the weight of the moment, he descended towards Rowena. As he drew close, the sinister flames that had danced around him flickered and died, his skeletal form giving way to flesh and skin, a transformation from specter to man.

"I am sorry I was late," Asher spoke, his voice heavy with unspoken emotions, his eyes a mirror to the pain and regret that churned within him.

He cradled Rowena's face tenderly, wishing he could soothe her pain with his touch.

Rowena, her spirit still blazing despite the trials, shook her head softly as she held his hand, "I should be the one apologizing for not coming to you sooner. I thought I could hold off the draconians if I prepared whatever small contingent I could to get you back home safely." A heavy sigh escaped Asher's lips as his gaze drifted to the fallen soldiers of his kingdom, each a silent guardian who had laid down their life for him.

A thousand souls, now part of the scorched Earth, their sacrifice making his heart heavy and his blood boiled thinking of how the draconians killed them all.

His piercing gaze turned to Drakar, who was now a broken figure, struggling to rise amidst the ruins of his own making, "Let's go home and execute him before our people," Asher's voice was a low growl, a promise of retribution for the fallen.

As much as he had wanted to kill him already, he also knew that only by holding Drakar hostage would there be a chance to make sure the Draconis Kingdom wouldn't dare to attack them.

Otherwise, they would just appoint a new king and launch a full-fledged war.

Rowena's crimson eyes burned with a cold, unforgiving light. She nodded, her resolve steeling as Asher began his approach toward the defeated Drakar while Rowena tended to her wounded dragon. Without Flaralis getting healed enough to fly, they can't safely leave with the injured Naida and Eradicator.

Nearby, amidst the chaos and carnage, Rebecca and Lysandra stood, their faces smeared with blood and their bodies riddled with injuries. Exhausted, wounded, yet undaunted, they were locked in a battle of wills, their hands gripping each other's hair, refusing to give in despite expending all their mana.

"Your king is dead meat, heh... I am going to take you back with me and see how fast you become my...slave and return my son to me," Rebecca taunted, her manic smile a grotesque mask, her teeth stained with fresh blood.

"You dream too much... for a dead woman," Lysandra retorted, her voice a chilling whisper, her eyes reflecting a frost that no fire could warm. And as if nothing changed, the two mothers were at each other's necks again. N0v3lTr0ve served as the original host for this chapter's release on N0v3l--B1n.

As Drakar struggled to rise, a dark green fireball, a wrathful comet of vengeance, struck him squarely.

His body was slammed back to the ground, a puppet cut from its strings, as blood spewed from his mouth.

His groan, laced with pain and defeat, was music to Asher's ears.

But his brows raised when, against all odds, Flaralis, with a spirit unbroken, gritted its teeth and rose, its massive wings unfurling like the banners of an indomitable will.

"Flaralis hasn't healed enough, but she has enough strength to let us reach home. We shouldn't stay here any longer," Rowena declared, her voice a mix of concern and determination.

Asher nodded, knowing that Drakar probably had called for reinforcements long ago.

He began to drag Drakar, his defeated figure now a mere burden to be carried.

Isola and Ceti, their own strength waning, bore Naida and Eradicator on their backs after stabilizing their injuries.

Meanwhile, Rebecca and Lysandra lay spent, the remnants of their ferocious clash leaving them kneeling before each other, though their gazes were still piercing into each other's souls.

*RUMBLE!*

But as Asher approached Flaralis, the sky itself revolted, a sudden tumult of dark clouds and crimson lightning began to shroud the previously sunny skies.

A chill of unease wound its way up Asher's spine, a silent alarm that resonated with Rowena and the others. Their gazes turned as one towards the source of this ominous herald.

From the shadows emerged a figure, tall, bulky, and imposing, his presence a silent storm of power and dread. His blood-red eyes gleamed in the darkness, a beacon of foreboding that seemed to command the very lightning that danced in the sky.

"It can't be..." Rowena's whisper was filled with disbelief, her eyes fixed on the approaching figure.

A bolt of crimson lightning split the sky, casting a stark illumination upon the figure. Asher saw an old man, his skin a deep, unsettling red, his thick, white hair and mustache a stark contrast to his formidable physique.

His muscles, hinting at untold strength, seemed to pulse with a life of their own, veins etched against his skin like the roots of an ancient, unfathomable tree.

He seemed like an anachronism, a being whose very existence defied time and nature and was dressed in a white chiton, showing off his bulging arms.

His aura, though restrained, was a maelstrom of latent danger, a force that dwarfed even the mightiest of foes Asher had ever faced on Earth and in this world.

"Who is he..." Asher's question was a whisper, a murmur of uneasiness against the rising tide of danger.

"T-The Moon Guardian..." Ceti's voice was barely audible, her eyes mirroring the shock and gravity that had seized them all.