Regulus sensed the sudden shift in the atmosphere, and high above in the scorched heavens, the black dragon detected it as well.
However, in Valgren's feral, corrupted eyes, the approaching small black silhouette held zero interest. What instantly captured its absolute, primordial fury was the celestial entity descending right behind it—its ancient, draconic kin.
The next moment, something that thoroughly defied rational logic occurred.
Despite having lost a head, its tail, and bleeding profusely from a shredded wing, Valgren let out a deafening screech and hurled its colossal frame directly toward Divine Dragon Volcanica without a shred of hesitation!
Judging by its suicidal momentum, the black dragon intended to fight the guardian deity of Lugnica to the bitter death.
'Under normal circumstances, shouldn't an apex predator with a functioning brain flee for its life?' Regulus thought, his brow twitching.
Perhaps draconic pride harbored its own incomprehensible rules of engagement, or perhaps the curse driving the beast demanded blood at all costs. But whatever the reason, Regulus had neither the patience nor the leisure to ponder it.
Because as the small black speck drew closer, the ominous dread coiling within Regulus's chest spiked exponentially.
The source of that suffocating pressure was not Volcanica. It was emanating entirely from that tiny, shadow-draped figure.
Trusting his survival instincts, Regulus chose tactical disengagement without a second thought. Turning sharply on his heel, he engaged his Authority and sprinted across the rocky terrain, veering far away from the trajectory of the descending entities.
Yet, an immediate and terrifying complication arose.
As if locked onto his personal soul signature, the high-speed silhouette gracefully curved in mid-air, adjusting its flight path to track him with pinpoint precision. Her singular, unwavering target was unmistakably him.
'That's right... it's a woman!'
Although the distance still obscured fine details, the presence of the Divine Dragon descending in hot pursuit, the suffocating miasma thick enough to drown a nation, and that distinct, petite silhouette instantly triggered a terrifying realization in Regulus's mind.
It was the calamity sealed atop the Pleiades Watchtower—the Witch of Envy!
Back within the Castle of Dreams, Satella had explicitly gripped his hand and warned him with trembling tears: Never, under any circumstances, set foot near the Watchtower.
Yet now, the cruel irony was laid bare: even though he hadn't gone anywhere near the eastern Augria Sand Dunes, the Witch had breached her ancient seal and flown across the continent to find him!
Regulus skidded to a sudden halt, his boots grinding into the shattered rock.
She commanded the sky, while he was bound to the earth. With her entire focus locked onto his presence, running blindly across open plains was an exercise in futility.
More crucially, the operational tether of Lion's Heart had a hard spatial limit. If he sprinted any further away, he would step outside the effective range of Sphinx, who was still concealed behind the ridge.
"Hoo..." Regulus exhaled a slow, heavy breath, steadying his rapid pulse.
In this era, with Reinhard van Astrea not due to be born for another two decades, the Witch of Envy stood alone as the undisputed, absolute ceiling of combat power across the entire world. No mortal, knight, or spirit could stand before her.
Even with the conceptual invulnerability granted by the Authority of Greed, Regulus felt an uncharacteristic knot of apprehension tighten in his stomach.
Against standard physical strikes or conventional magic, his defense was utterly unbreachable. But against the primordial shadows of Envy—forces that could devour space, bypass physical laws, and corrupt the soul—he harbored zero confidence in his ability to shield Sphinx from collateral ruin.
If possible, he desperately hoped to resolve this encounter through dialogue.
'Of course, that's merely wishful thinking,' Regulus thought with a bitter, internal grimace. 'If the Witch of Envy were someone who could be reasoned with through pleasant conversation, the Three Heroes wouldn't have been forced to seal her away four hundred years ago.'
Regulus stood his ground, his eyes narrowing into razor-sharp focus.
As the dark entity descended through the clouds, the shadowy outline sharpened into the figure of a slender maiden enveloped in a veil of pitch-black, writhing miasma.
When Valgren roared across her flight path, the Witch merely tilted her frame, effortlessly gliding past the black dragon without sparing it a single glance.
The next instant, Valgren slammed headlong into Divine Dragon Volcanica!
Forced onto the defensive by the suicidal assault of the black dragon, Volcanica unleashed a blinding curtain of azure breath, becoming utterly entangled in a violent, draconic melee across the upper atmosphere.
Watching the celestial clash unfold, Regulus felt deeply frustrated. If Volcanica hadn't been intercepted by that rabid beast, having the Divine Dragon by his side would have provided immense breathing room.
Now, he was left entirely alone to face the ultimate calamity.
As the Witch drifted closer, the surrounding sky turned an unnatural, bruised purple. The sunlight dimmed, and an oppressive, freezing miasma settled over the mountain, thick enough to suffocate an army.
'If my Authority didn't conceptually freeze my physical state and keep my pulse completely steady, I might actually be trembling right now,' Regulus admitted inwardly.
With a soft, whispering breeze, the black mist gently parted.
The maiden set her bare feet upon the scorched earth, coming to a gentle halt barely a meter away from him.
Her waist-length silver hair flowed like spun moonlight, and her pale, flawless amethyst eyes gazed into his own with an intensity that defied sanity. Barring a darker, more solemn cut to her veil and robes, her facial features were completely, unmistakably identical to Satella.
"You..." Regulus started, his throat tightening.
"Finally... I've finally found you..."
Her voice was an intoxicating, tearful melody laden with four centuries of agonizing sorrow and madness. Raising her pale, trembling hands, she leaned forward, stepping into his personal space to wrap her arms around his neck.
'Do I push her away, or do I play along?'
Within a fraction of a second, weighing the apocalyptic consequences of triggering a violent outburst, Regulus chose compliance. If communication was an option, he had to take it. At the very least, he needed to stall for time until Volcanica pulverized Valgren and descended to the ridge.
The moment her slender arms wrapped tightly around him, Regulus began lifting his own arms to return the embrace.
Yet, before his hands could touch her waist, a series of frantic, breathless whispers poured directly into his ear:
"I missed you so much... I missed you so, so much... Every second, every moment, I only think of you... only you..."
The sheer, suffocating obsession packed into those tender words sent an icy, primal shiver straight down Regulus's spine.
Before he could process the unnatural chill, reality shattered!
The entire world abruptly plunged into an infinite, lightless abyss. The scorched mountain, the sky, the distant roars of the dragons, and the very atmosphere dissolved into nothingness. Everything ceased to exist—except for the silver-haired Witch clinging tightly to his chest.
Regulus's eyes flared as he instinctively attempted to flex his Authority.
Nothing happened.
His heartbeat resumed. His breath hitched. The Authority of Greed had completely shut down!
The absolute, conceptual stasis that had governed his invulnerability vanished into thin air. His limbs felt unimaginably heavy, sinking into an invisible, suffocating mire that paralyzed every muscle in his body.
Regulus's eyes dilated in genuine shock.
The failure of Lion's Heart meant only one horrifying thing: the spatial distance between himself and his wives had not just widened—it had been severed completely!
"What... what did you just do?!" Regulus demanded, his voice strained as he fought against the crushing gravity of the void.
"You belong to me. You are mine... only mine," she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw, her eyes radiating a delirious, unyielding light.
"For all these centuries... I have thought about a single question, over and over and over again!"
Her slender fingers tightened their grip on his robes, pressing her face against his neck with manic tenderness.
"How could I make sure those annoying vixens never bother us again? How could I stop you from constantly looking for new vixens to get between us?"
She let out a soft, ecstatic giggle that sounded utterly unhinged.
"And finally... I figured it out!"
"Wouldn't everything be perfect... if we simply left that world entirely, to dwell in a place where only the two of us exist?"
Regulus's breath caught in his throat. "You... you took us out of the world?!"
"That's right," she purred sweetly, nuzzling his cheek with boundless adoration. "This is the World's Seam. A primordial void of absolute chaos where no mortal will ever disturb us, and no one will ever find you."
"Here... you will look only at me. You will touch only me. You will love only me... forever, and ever, and ever, and ever..."
"..."
Held in an unyielding embrace within the boundary of nonexistence, Regulus stared at the obsessive Witch of Envy, his mind spiraling into absolute chaos.
For a brief, furious second, the urge to strangle her surged violently in his chest.
His grand honeymoon tour. His luxurious manor in the Capital. His massive domestic empire, and his over one hundred beautiful, adoring wives waiting for a victory banquet...
All of them, instantaneously erased and replaced by a single, hyper-obsessive yandere who had dragged him into a cosmic void!
'This isn't just an ambush...' Regulus screamed internally, despair and fury warring within him. 'This is an absolute, catastrophic domestic collapse!'
...
(Good luck staying with a Yandere. Regulus will return to his wives after taming the Witch.)