The capital burned louder now. The air shook with heat and the echo of crumbling towers. The battlefield where they stood was nothing but shattered stone and fire, yet in the middle of it, Lucy's breath came steady.
Her horn gleamed violet in the smoke. The markings across her body pulsed, bright with every heartbeat. Her new aura was raw, alive, still fighting against itself. She could feel it rushing through her veins, wild and sharp, like the power wasn't hers but some ancient thing forcing her to carry it.
The Dragon King stood across from her, golden cloak flaring, his fists clenched tight. His gaze no longer carried calm arrogance. His pupils had narrowed, his jaw set too hard. He feared what he saw.
Karl leaned against rubble, blood spilling from his mouth, scales cracked. His body tried to rise but failed, every bone screaming. He could only watch.
Lucian lay silent in the dirt, chest moving faint but slow, his cloak shredded. His glow had dimmed, his power burned out.
