As the thunder of celebration slowly settled, Shuna's dignified voice rang out across the Colosseum, calm yet absolute.
"The three Grand Corps Commanders, step forward!"
At her call, the commanders of the First, Second, and Third Corps advanced and knelt before me.
Gobta. Geld. Gabil.
Three pillars of Eterna's military—each proven in blood and fire.
I turned my gaze first to Gobta, who looked up at me with unmistakable anticipation glittering in his eyes.
"Ahem. Gobta," I said coolly.
"You will receive no reward."
The Colosseum froze.
"What?!" Gobta blurted out. "That's cruel! Then why'd you call me up here?!"
A ripple of laughter spread, quickly suppressed under my raised hand.
"That," I replied, "is a fair question. You will not receive a reward—
but instead, I will grant you a right."
"A… right?"
Gobta blinked, utterly lost.
I had already considered every conventional reward.
Souls would not awaken him—he lacked the qualifications.
Weapons and armor would only burden him—he already exceeded his limits.
Gold was meaningless—he spent it foolishly.
Land was pointless—Gobta ruling territory would be a disaster.
Yet Gobta did not lack value.
What he possessed was something rarer.
"From this moment on," I declared,
"you are granted the exclusive right to address me casually—exactly as you always have."
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then—
The Colosseum exploded.
Not with applause—but with raw, unfiltered
jealousy.
Shion's eyes burned.
Shuna stared in disbelief.
Foreign guests murmured in shock.
Gobta's jaw dropped.
"…You serious?"
"You cannot speak formally even if your life depended on it," I continued evenly.
"Rather than reprimand you endlessly, I recognize it as your privilege."
This was not indulgence.
It was strategy.
There were those who resented Gobta's tone, claiming it undermined authority. By declaring it a royal right, the matter was settled forever—publicly, decisively.
Gobta's loyalty had never been in question.
His eyes told me everything:
He would die for me without hesitation.
That was worth more than any artifact.
"Thank you!!"
Gobta bowed deeply, grin stretched ear to ear. This—this was the reward that suited him perfectly.
I turned my gaze to the next kneeling figure.
Geld.
"Geld," I declared, "from this day forward, you shall bear the title—
Barrier Lord."
"I, Geld, accept!" he answered powerfully. "I swear to embody that name!"
Cheers surged again.
But beneath the noise, I spoke directly into his mind.
‹I will perform the same awakening ritual on you as I did on Benimaru.›
‹…What exactly does that entail?›
Rather than explain aloud, I expanded the Telepathy Net, linking all who would receive souls. With Thought Acceleration, entire explanations passed in an instant.
Geld's response came quietly—but firmly.
‹I am honored… but I believe another deserves this more. Carrera has been instrumental in this war. If she qualifies, the reward should go to her instead of me.›
I understood immediately.
Geld feared power.
Not for himself—but for what it might awaken.
He still carried the weight of his past—the destruction born from his rage long ago. He had shackled himself with restraint ever since.
I answered him without hesitation.
‹Geld. When you lost control before, it was to protect your people—was it not?›
His soul trembled.
‹No one here condemns you anymore. And neither do I.›
I let the truth strike him fully.
‹I believe in you. And with your evolution, your people will grow stronger as well. Eterna's defenses will become unbreakable.›
There was a long pause.
Then—
‹…In that case, I humbly accept.›
Good.
I severed the Telepathy Net and raised my voice.
"Your service has been exemplary. Accept this reward."
At my signal, Shuna stepped forward and presented a massive shield and armor set.
Legendary-grade.
Not merely relics—but living equipment, tuned exclusively to Geld's aura. I had refined them personally with Garm, designing them to grow alongside their bearer.
Given Geld's defensive nature, these would soon rival mythical-grade armaments.
Within my soul, Solarys — Sovereign of Wisdom spoke.
Query:
Consume 100,000 souls to evolve the individual Geld?
YES / NO
"Yes."
I met Geld's eyes.
"You've carried responsibility for far too long," I said.
"Take this time. Rest. Decide what you wish to build beyond the battlefield."
Geld smiled—truly smiled.
"Thank you… for this mercy."
He rose and returned to formation, visibly resisting the pull of evolutionary slumber.
Two commanders had stepped forward.
One rewarded with trust.
One entrusted with power.
And the King of Eterna had made his will unmistakably clear:
Loyalty would be recognized.
Resolve would be elevated.
And those who bore the weight of the realm would never stand alone again.
I watched Geld steady himself against the pull of evolutionary slumber, forcing consciousness through sheer will alone.
To resist the weight of rebirth—
that, in itself, was strength.
Impressed, I shifted my attention to the final commander.
Gabil.
He stepped forward as the commander of the Third Corps, the architect of Eterna's aerial dominance. His head lowered—not in ceremony, but in genuine humility.
"It was not enough," he said quietly. "I am ashamed of my lack of talent."
That alone told me how far he had come.
Truth be told, Gabil more than deserved praise. Leading magic-endurance training during active combat was insanity—no, stupidity bordering on madness. When Ultima's post-battle report reached me, even I was taken aback. She had recommended punishment. Apparently, Gabil had become far too fond of experimentation.
Yet—
Because of that recklessness, he and his unit had unraveled the true nature of the dragonewt intrinsic ability: Dragon Body.
Results matter.
I decided not to rebuke him publicly. Authority is not proven through humiliation. Instead, I opened a private channel.
The Telepathy Net activated—silent, absolute.
‹We will speak later about your experiments during wartime. For now—Ultima has made a proposal.›
‹…Proposal?›
‹She will teach you control. For demons, manipulating magicules is instinct. She has agreed to oversee your training. Accept it.›
A pause.
Then—
‹…I understand. I accept.›
Good.
Punishment alone teaches fear.
Guidance tempers power.
Aloud, Gabil straightened and spoke clearly, voice ringing with resolve.
"We are still inexperienced. I, Gabil, swear to grow stronger. I will master Dragon Body—so that I may one day stand worthy before King Atem!"
There it was.
Gone was the foolish loudmouth who once postured for attention. What stood before me now was a commander—tempered by failure, sharpened by responsibility. The losses, the defeats, his time with Vesta and the others—all of it had carved maturity into his soul.
He was ready.
"I will grant you power," I declared.
"Bear it with pride—and awaken as the Draco Lord."
I released the souls.
The response was immediate—and violent.
Unlike Geld's restrained ascent, Gabil's evolution erupted.
Blackened violet scales ignited into deep crimson-purple, glowing as if forged in dragonfire. Rivers of volatile magicules surged across his body, tearing and reforging muscle, bone, and spirit in an instant.
Yet Gabil did not scream.
He anchored himself through sheer will, consciousness upheld by spirit alone.
The madness of his past training paid off.
"WOOOOOOO—!!"
"I can feel it… this power…!"
Purple lightning burst outward, searing his own flesh—
and in the same breath, his body regenerated, denser, stronger, absolute.
A single, majestic horn emerged from his forehead.
Not excess.
Not ornament.
Authority.
"Thank you, King Atem!" Gabil roared.
"From this day on, I claim the title Draco Lord! My power, my life, my wings—all belong to Eterna!"
The Colosseum thundered.
The Draco Lord had been born.
Yet the true miracle did not stop with him.
From the ranks of the Third Corps, voices rose in amazement.
"I feel stronger!"
"My body—it's overflowing with power!"
"Gabil-sama… incredible!"
The Hiryuu—one hundred elite aerial warriors—had evolved alongside him.
Not only them.
All three thousand members of the Blue Numbers followed suit.
Every one of them crossed the A-rank threshold.
Each became a mid-level majin.
Their evolution was clean—efficient.
The old skills vanished.
• Dragon Scaling → erased
• Dragon Body → normalized
In its place—
Dragon Skin.
A self-repairing armor formed directly from condensed magicules, absorbing energy from the environment and reinforcing itself endlessly. No maintenance. No equipment required.
Its strength scaled with the user.
When Solarys — Sovereign of Wisdom finished its evaluation, the result startled even me.
Gabil's Dragon Skin had reached near-mythical-grade defense.
Naturally, offense rose to match it.
Though still dragonewts in classification, they had surpassed their kin entirely. Their forms could not humanize—but that was a matter of choice, not limitation.
Then there were Souka and her unit.
Humanoid dragonewts.
Their evolution followed a different path—leaner, faster, deadlier.
Scales and wings manifested at will, layered over human form. Speed and striking power surged beyond that of the Hiryuu. Their skill set mirrored Dragon Body, but refined for assassination and precision.
They had become dragon-aspected majin.
Souka herself now carried magicule density rivaling an archdemon.
Two paths.
One origin.
Both perfected.
I watched the Third Corps stand reborn beneath the banners of Eterna.
This was not chance.
This was judgment.
And as King, I knew—
Eterna's sky would never again belong to its enemies.