"This... how is this possible?!" Elizabeth's voice was a shrill shriek of disbelief, her composure utterly shattered. "Master Shadow clearly removed the Black Dragon Scale from your body! How can you still be standing? How can you still be alive?"
"You've survived multiple fatal blows... could it be that you've miraculously revived? Even I didn't anticipate this."
A flicker of grim understanding crossed her pained features. "Do you recall the last time Constantine reconstructed his body? He implanted the most unique, corrupted Black Dragon Scale into himself. It was meant not only to contain his rampages but also to make him a permanent puppet under Master Shadow's control."
"In other words," she spat, "that Black Dragon Scale replaced your protective Heart Scale, becoming a part of your very essence. Even if you've managed to cling to life through some trick, you can't escape Master Shadow's control forever..."
Elizabeth knelt on the back of the giant pelican, her injured shoulder trembling as blood seeped steadily through her white robes. She panted lightly, her gaze fixed on Constantine below, noting the massive, familiar warhammer in his grasp.
"That's... Adam's Hammer? The weapon of the Warhammer Dragon King you slew! How do you have it?"
Constantine raised his head, his crimson dragon eyes meeting Elizabeth's with an icy, contemptuous glare.
"If you think Master Shadow's plans are foolproof, you're gravely mistaken. After I lost control at St. Heath's Academy, Leon and I realized this was all part of Shadow's long-term scheme."
"That's why I entrusted Hefei to Leon's care before I confronted my fate. As we predicted, Shadow targeted me shortly afterward."
He took a heavy step forward, the ground cracking under his boot. "You thought you were pulling the strings, but I had already planned for this during our last encounter."
"At the very least," he declared, his voice a low rumble of triumph, "I'm no longer his puppet."
Constantine gripped the warhammer tightly, the head of the weapon beginning to glow with a faint, cherry-red heat.
"It was a simple matter of turning his own corruption against him... with a bit of ancient luck."
He referred to the primordial magic, Heartfire, which Leon had obtained from Claudia's archives and secretly passed to him.
"As long as the user retains even a shred of will to fight, they won't fall. The heart's fire cannot be extinguished by external darkness."
Before stepping into his sanctum for what he thought might be his final confrontation, Constantine had activated the Heartfire ritual, creating an internal bastion that prevented Shadow from delivering a truly fatal blow and allowing him to cling to life until Rebecca and the Lionheart Guild arrived.
"And as for 'luck,'" Constantine continued, a grim smile touching his lips, "it came from when I defeated Adam in the Lunar Forest. I extracted his intact Heart Scale for safekeeping, a pure dragon's core to counteract the corrupted one. A gamble that paid off."
Elizabeth clenched her teeth, her lips trembling as she listened to Constantine's explanation, the sheer audacity of the plan dawning on her.
"So what?!" she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. "Even if you survived and gathered this ragtag group of traitors and fools, they're nothing! A temporary inconvenience!"
"You won't stop Master Shadow's grand plan. Soon, everything in this world will bow to the glorious shadow of the Ultimate Fear!"
"And you... you will all become the first sacrifices for its awakening!" she shrieked, pointing a bloody finger at the assembled force. "Every last one of you will die!"
As Elizabeth ranted, the members of the Lionheart Guild finished their descent from the Silver Dragon's back. Rebecca strode up to Leon, her sniper rifle slung casually over her shoulder, and addressed Martin, who was checking his own weapons.
"Why didn't you just shoot her in the head back then?" Martin asked, nodding toward the hysterical Elizabeth.
Rebecca smirked, a cold, predatory look in her eyes. "A quick death is too merciful for her. One day, when this is over, I'll put a bullet through her skull myself, nice and slow."
Martin sighed, shaking his head. "Women and their grudges..."
Turning to Leon, his expression became all business. "Captain, what's our next move?"
Leon surveyed the chaotic battlefield, his gaze steady and analytical as he addressed his team.
"Rebecca, you'll lead the Lionheart Guild, supported by my wife and the other Dragon Kings, to clear out these enhanced mutants blocking our path to the tower."
"Odin and I will attempt a breakthrough under your covering fire to reach Shadow directly. He's deep into the unsealing ritual for the Ultimate Fear, and we must stop him before the point of no return."
"Be warned," he added, his voice grave. "These mutants, infused with concentrated Black Dragon Scale energy, are far stronger and more resilient than any ordinary enemies. Do not underestimate them."
"Even with the combined strength of the Dragon Kings, it'll take a great deal of effort and coordination to take them down. That's why I can't allocate all our forces to this frontal assault. Odin and I need to conserve our energy and time our approach perfectly to strike at Shadow directly."
"Understood, Captain," Rebecca replied, her voice firm. She raised her sniper rifle, the scope glinting, and signaled her team to fan out and prepare.
"It's been a while since I had a proper, all-out fight," she said, a fierce grin spreading across her face. "Let's make this one count."
From her perch, Elizabeth, seeing their preparations, barked orders to her vast army of mutants. "Kill them all! Tear them to pieces! Leave nothing but bones!"
At her command, the mutated horde surged forward in a mindless, shrieking frenzy.
The Dragon Kings exchanged brief, knowing glances. Years, sometimes centuries, of rivalry and occasional alliance had forged an unspoken coordination between them. The battle was joined.
Isha was the first to move, transforming in a flash of brilliant light into her massive red dragon form. Her body blocked out the night sky as she unleashed torrents of searing dragonfire, reducing entire waves of mutants to screaming ash. However, her colossal, magnificent frame left her flanks and rear vulnerable to blind-spot attacks.
Seeing the opening, two sleek, panther-like mutants launched concentrated bolts of shadow magic at her wings. But just as the corrosive strikes were about to land, two swirling globes of hardened golden sand intercepted them, shattering the attacks harmlessly.
"Isha!" Morgan's voice called out, the Golden Sand Dragon King weaving his magic with a flick of his wrist. "We need to coordinate! Coordinate, got it? I can't shield you if you don't acknowledge my existence!"
The Red Dragon turned her massive head, let out a dismissive growl that shook the air, and returned to violently tearing through the frontline of mutants with tooth and claw.
Morgan grumbled, "After all these years, how rude can she possibly get?"
"Politeness doesn't kill enemies," an elder Sea Dragon King quipped, powerful water magic swirling like liquid blades in his hands. "Her brute force works best upfront. We'll provide cover for her blind spots. It's simple formation tactics."
Morgan waved a dismissive hand, conjuring more shields of sand. "Fine, fine. As long as I stay behind her and out of the line of fire, we'll be perfectly—"
BOOM!
A deafening explosion of sound and force cut him off. The ground quaked violently. They turned to see Constantine, having shifted into his own towering Crimson Flame dragon form, wielding his now white-hot warhammer.
He leapt into the air, the hammer blazing like a miniature sun, and brought it down with a thunderous, earth-shattering crash, incinerating a whole platoon of mutants in a single, cataclysmic impact.
"Constantine!" Morgan yelled over the roar of flames. "Coordination, remember?! We need coordination! You're disrupting the formation!"
Constantine hefted his massive hammer onto his shoulder, the weapon shrinking slightly as he shifted back to his humanoid form for mobility. He glanced back at Morgan, a wild, almost joyful light in his eyes.
"Coordination is important, sure..." he rumbled. "But right now, the rules are in my hands."
He shook his warhammer, sending embers flying. "And there's only one rule that matters on this battlefield."
Morgan blinked, exasperated. "And what, pray tell, is that?"
A fierce, unburdened grin split Constantine's face. "Enjoy the fight!"
While the battle raged around them, Rossweise lingered near Leon, her gaze worried as she watched the chaotic melee. She turned to him, her brow furrowed.
"Are they here?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the din.
Leon nodded, his eyes scanning the periphery of the battle. "Yes, they're in position and ready."
"Good..." Rossweise bit her lip, her amethyst eyes clouded with maternal fear. "I'm still not sure if we made the right decision. It was the only path, but... if anything happens to Noah—"
"Nothing will happen to Noah," Leon interjected, his voice firm and absolute, leaving no room for doubt. He reached out and took her hand, gently brushing his thumb over her cool skin.
"Trust me," he said, his gaze sweeping over their allies—the Dragon Kings, the Lionheart Guild, all fighting as one. "Trust us. None of them will fall tonight."
He smiled softly at her, a look of profound love and certainty.
"We'll finish this before sunrise. Then," he promised, his voice a low vow, "we'll all go home."