Epsilon tightened her grip on her scythe.
"And you think… we're not enough?"
"Not yet," the Mist Dragon replied without hesitation. "But you are on the path. Only… your journey ends here."
The fog around them trembled as the Mist Dragon let out a low roar.
The pressure of its voice rippled like waves, making the Seven Shades shudder and their breaths grow heavier.
Alpha stepped half a pace forward, her blue eyes piercing through the mist.
"You help a nation grow, grant it prosperity and protection," she said coldly, "and then when it no longer aligns with your will, you destroy everything. That is not a test. That is mere annihilation."
Zeta narrowed her eyes, her tail twitching restlessly behind the fog.
"True," she said sharply. "It's selfish."
The Mist Dragon chuckled softly, its deep voice rolling like restrained thunder.
"Selfish? No. That is how history is made."
Its eyes gleamed faintly through the mist.
"And history is always written by those strong enough to decide… who deserves to survive, and who must be sacrificed."
The fog around them swirled, as if responding to its will.
"Kingdoms, races, and heroes—all are merely fuel for a greater will."
Its gaze pierced the Seven Shades once more, this time no longer as an examiner… but as an executioner.
"And today, my history will grow—stained with the blood of Elves and Beastkin you carry."
The mist throbbed thicker, flowing like a dark tide, welcoming the dragon's murderous intent.
But before the Mist Dragon could unleash a strike that would end the Seven Shades, a pale white spear shot through the fog—spinning like a tornado before embedding itself right in their midst.
WHOOOSH…!!!
The blast of wind pressure radiated in all directions, scattering the fog and opening space around the Seven Shades' formation.
The Mist Dragon froze in place. Its intent to kill halted, replaced by curiosity toward the bold figure that dared to interfere.
Elsewhere, the Seven Shades' faces lit up the moment they saw the spear—and felt the cold, terrifying mana emanating from it.
"Ash-sama…" Alpha whispered.
The Mist Dragon noticed the change, seeing the fire of conviction blazing in their eyes, and its curiosity deepened.
The dragon's mind churned.
Interesting…
It seemed there was something far more worthy of attention.
Then… a voice echoed, as if emerging from the gap between the world and the void.
"Living too long… it seems to have made you forget how small you truly are, Mist Dragon."
The dragon narrowed its eyes.
Its gaze shifted toward the source of the voice.
At the same moment, the Seven Shades turned as well.
The fog parted.
From within it, Gabriel descended slowly—three pairs of pale white wings spread across his back, their feathers glowing like light long forgotten by the heavens.
He landed silently, as if the ground itself lifted him so he need not touch the world.
A hush fell between them.
For a brief moment, the dragon's eyes widened—not in fear, but in primordial fascination.
It sensed something unfamiliar.
The child's soul… had already reached a higher plane, something that even in its immortality and solitude, the dragon had never witnessed.
This sensation did not arise without reason.
In the world of Black Clover, mana is not a biological energy—it is the pressure of a soul's existence exerted upon the world.
The stronger the will, identity, and presence of a soul, the greater the pressure it places on reality, and that pressure manifests as the quantity and quality of mana.
Therefore, mana is not bound to the physical body; it follows the soul that inhabits it.
The clearest proof of this can be seen in the Elf Reincarnation Arc.
When the elves reincarnated, the human bodies they occupied remained the same, yet their mana, affinity, and magical power changed drastically according to the soul of the elf inhabiting them.
If mana originated from biological organs or the body's systems, such transformations would be impossible.
The same principle is confirmed by the grimoire system: a grimoire does not select blood or body—it binds to and reacts to the user's soul.
If two people were to swap bodies, the grimoire would still follow the original owner of the soul.
Meanwhile, the gaze of the human child made the Mist Dragon feel as if it were being read.
Not merely stared at.
Not merely measured.
But like page after page being turned by eyes that had seen too much truth.
Gabriel looked at it, then offered a faint smile.
He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a quiet chuckle.
"Heh."
Yet behind his calm expression, his mind churned.
The Mist Dragon's mana… was astonishingly vast, surpassing even Cid and Alpha.
And not only that. Its mana was connected to the world itself, like roots embedding into every land and sea, inseparable even from the water in a single glass.
Gabriel exhaled slowly.
Not out of fear.
But… with a hint of amusement.
So this is what it feels like to face something the world itself is unwilling to lose.
A faint smile returned to his face.
The pale mist began to swirl around the small figure, while the faint wings on his back trembled gently.
Very well.
Then… Ash, the Pale Mist that Watches the Stars… would test how far this world was willing to scream to defend its own creation.
Finally, the silence was broken by the Mist Dragon's voice itself.
"Human child," the dragon said, "who are you?"
Gabriel smiled faintly.
"Ash," he replied. "The Pale Mist that Watches the Stars."
The Mist Dragon stared at Gabriel without blinking.
"You call yourself… the mist that watches the stars?" it murmured. "Interesting. A title far too grand for such a small body."
The mist around them rippled subtly, as if the world itself were waiting for his answer.
Gabriel lifted his face slightly, his pale eyes reflecting the glow of the mist.
"I am not the mist that devours the world," he said calmly. "But the mist that stands between the stars and destruction."
His gaze locked onto the Mist Dragon's eyes.
"And you, Mist Dragon… are merely a vortex left to spin by nature for too long.
Roots that have grown too deep, forgetting that one day even the ground beneath can collapse."
A faint smile flickered across his lips.
"Those loved by the world… are often the ones most afraid of being abandoned."
For a moment, the mist fell silent.
Then Gabriel slowly raised his right hand.
He pointed toward the sky shrouded in mist—his gesture small, yet imbued with an unseen authority.
The signal was simple.
Leave this to me.
Seven Shades understood immediately.
Alpha straightened her posture and spoke in a quick but controlled voice, "All units, fall back. Form a perimeter. Do not approach the core of the mist."
Gamma and Eta immediately withdrew, evacuating their positions.
Epsilon adjusted her scythe, holding her breath, while Beta and Zeta moved to the edge of the forest, forming a protective formation.
Delta gritted her teeth, reluctant but obedient.
"Do not enter the mist," Alpha continued. "This is no longer our battlefield."
At the center of the swirling mist, only two existences remained facing each other.
The dragon, a part of the world itself.
And a child challenging it.
The Mist Dragon roared, lifting its head toward the sky. Instantly, the surrounding mana was drawn into its mouth, shimmering in a spectrum of rainbow colors.
Slowly, the gathered mana formed a colossal sphere, slightly larger than the dragon's head.
Elsewhere, Morgan appeared on Gabriel's shoulder, settling in with a calm demeanor. Her gaze upon the Mist Dragon carried the curiosity of someone who had just discovered an intriguing amusement.
"That dragon isn't bad," Morgan remarked in her cold, measured tone. "Do you need assistance?"
Gabriel chuckled softly.
"Perhaps a little," he replied. "Could I borrow your Magecraft Mirror Water?"
"If that's what you want…" Morgan replied without hesitation, "then I won't refuse."
Before Gabriel could respond, the Mist Dragon unleashed a torrent of rainbow-colored magical energy from its mouth.
The attack fragmented into several projectiles streaking straight toward him.
BOOOM…!!! BOOOM…!!! BOOOM…!!!
Explosion after explosion shook the air, light and shockwaves tearing through the mist, ripping apart the ground and surrounding trees.
Gradually, the chaos subsided.
The Mist Dragon furrowed its brow as it surveyed the crater nearly a hundred meters wide before it—yet there was no sign of Gabriel anywhere.
Finally, Gabriel's voice rang out.
"Mist Dragon," Gabriel said, "do you know… how a Construction is created?"
The Mist Dragon turned toward the source of the voice—and found Gabriel standing right before it, appearing out of nowhere, completely unharmed.
In both hands, Gabriel gripped a shovel forged from Dark Matter Slime, poised and ready to swing.
Gabriel continued, as if answering his own question.
"The answer… is the shovel."
In an instant, time seemed to slow.
The world moved like a sequence of broken frames.
"Mana Zone."
"Fifty Units: Output Release."
Fifty Compression Energies activated simultaneously. Pale white mana radiated from his body, seeping into the air, gradually suppressing and bending the energy around him.
The space itself responded to his will.
The Mist Dragon's eyes widened—it realized that Gabriel could wield natural mana, just like a dragon.
Its curiosity—and fascination—deepened.
___
Author's Note:
By the way, if you enjoyed this chapter, please send some Power Stones, leave a comment or review, and add it to your Favorites. 😉
Don't be shy, its Free~ come 😌
Cher up me~