Those were the eyes of a dragon, yet also the eyes of a human.
The crimson vertical slits slowly unsealed, and in the very first instant, her gaze fell upon the center of the battlefield—straight onto Artorius and Loren.
An indescribable sense of dread washed over Artorius, permeating every cell of his body.
He couldn't move.
It was a fear rooted in biological instinct—the terror of death, the awe of a higher being, the submission to the absolute strong. With just a single look, Artorius felt his knees go weak. An impulse surged within him, urging him to prostrate himself before those eyes.
"Hmph."
The voice sounded like a woman's—contemptuous, cold, and carrying an unparalleled, kingly arrogance. It exploded in Artorius's ears like a sudden thunderclap.
It was as if she were saying...
"Kneel!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Every Saxon on the battlefield dropped to their knees.
The knights who had charged out with Artorius fared little better; some collapsed instantly, unable to resist despite the desperate tremors racking their bodies. Others held out for a mere fraction of a second before their strength failed, and they, too, sank powerlessly to the earth.
Every Saxon gazed with fanatical devotion at the dragon's slit pupils in the sky, then at Loren, who knelt with his arms spread wide to the heavens.
Meanwhile, every knight remaining on the field stared at the silver-armored figure standing before Loren.
The very sky seemed to be pressing down.
Under the direct weight of that gaze, Artorius's knees buckled. His nearly depleted stamina left him with no reserves to brace himself; he was a hair's breadth from hitting the dirt.
But in the final moment before his knees touched the mud, Artorius ground his teeth so hard that blood leaked from the corners of his mouth.
"You want me... to kneel?"
His knees shook violently. His armor groaned, emitting the shrill sound of metal protesting the war between his will and his flesh. Trembling, Artorius forced his hands upward to raise his sword, then plunged it violently into the earth.
The black sword buried itself in the ground.
Shaking from head to toe, Artorius leaned his entire weight onto the blade. His knees, bent to the point of screaming, trembled even more fiercely. Then, with a sudden lunge, his right leg shifted from a forward-buckling stance into a near-kneeling position.
Yet, his left knee remained a fraction of an inch above the ground.
Slowly, agonizingly, Artorius forced his left leg back up, inch by painstaking inch. His body was hunched, his torso practically draped over the pommel of his sword, but his legs finally locked straight.
"Oh?"
The arrogant woman's voice echoed in his mind again. This time, the contempt was seasoned with a hint of curiosity. And then...
"Heh."
Another dismissive chuckle. It was the sound of someone spotting an interesting insect on the roadside and wondering exactly how much pressure it would take to crush it flat.
BOOM—!!!
An even more titanic pressure descended from the heavens, as if the firmament itself had collapsed.
Artorius's body sagged violently. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest, and with a ragged gasp, he coughed up a spray of fresh blood.
The ground centered beneath him sank ten centimeters, sending dust and debris flying. Artorius's frame dropped once more, his knees nearly kissing the earth, but in that final heartbeat of contact, his hands clamped onto the hilt like a vice.
"You've... got to be... kidding me..."
The pain in his chest was excruciating. He thought he heard the sound of his own vertebrae cracking under the strain. A wave of agonizing weakness washed over him, but he bared his blood-stained teeth and forced himself to stand, bit by agonizing bit.
"What kind of thing... do you think you are—"
BOOM—!!!
For a third time, a crushing aura slammed down from the sky.
Artorius's knees bent again, though he held up better than the last time. However...
The life force that had been fading from Loren suddenly came roaring back. His chest wound knitted together before their very eyes, and his presence surged. A terrifying power manifested within his body, climbing to higher and higher peaks.
I have to kill him!
Artorius gripped his sword, but merely fighting the pressure to stay upright took everything he had. He couldn't even manage the motion of a swing.
Damn it! Move!
"Hmph!"
Just as Artorius was struggling against his own body, a cold, female voice rang out.
It was distinct from the voice of the eyes in the sky. This voice was younger, sharper, and carried a different kind of chill—one of absolute nobility and pride, like a natural-born princess. It was also laced with extreme irritation.
The moment this second voice appeared, Artorius felt the crushing weight vanish. He exploded into motion instantly, his blade whistling toward Loren's neck.
But just as his sword was about to connect, Loren—who had been staring at the sky—snapped his head down. He met Artorius's gaze with a savage sneer.
"Behold the power of the Great White Dragon Queen! Red Dragon!"
POW!
A fist slammed squarely into Artorius's chest.
His breastplate shattered. Artorius's pupils shrank to pinpricks. He coughed up a massive spray of blood as his body was sent hurtling backward like a falling star. He smashed through a hundred meters of trees and houses before finally being buried under the rubble of a collapsed building.
"Young Master?!"
Moore and the others also felt the pressure lift in that same instant. Seeing Artorius blasted away, they roared in fury and charged at Loren without a second thought.
Loren casually caught Moore's sword hand. Watching the knight struggle fruitlessly against his grip, Loren's face twisted into a mocking smile.
"Too weak."
The words had barely left his lips when Loren squeezed. The sickening crunch of metal gauntlet and bone resounded clearly. Moore let out a muffled grunt of pain as his sword fell from his nerveless fingers. Loren grabbed his arm and spun, hurling him bodily into Ryan, who was charging in with his axe. Both were sent tumbling away.
Loren snatched the falling sword out of the air. Just as he was about to hurl it at another knight rushing toward him, a dark shadow appeared before him almost instantaneously.
CLANG!
Loren raised the sword to block a massive greatsword descending from above. The two blades locked in mid-air. Loren looked with genuine interest at the mysterious figure before him, who was entirely shrouded in black.
"And who are you?"
The figure in black didn't speak. With a sudden surge of strength, they shoved Loren back, breaking the lock. Then, a radiance as brilliant as the sun exploded from the figure's raised sword. They swung again, the golden force slamming into Loren and sending him flying.
"You are no match for him."
The black-clad figure spared a brief glance at the knights who had frozen in their tracks, then left them with those words before charging once more toward the now-steady Loren.
The knights watched the figure's retreating back with expressions of utter shock. They looked at each other, disbelief written across their faces.
That voice just now... was it a woman's?
────────────────────────────────────────
Support me here: https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
Spring Sale Special – 20% OFF!
Fate : What Do You Mean I'm the Proto-Saber?
Join the journey and become part of the story!
────────────────────────────────────────