Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: The Power of the Dragon Aura
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‘An incredible power. It’s like I’ve become invincible.’
Ardaine, infused with the strand of holy power, was speechless at the astonishing surge of euphoria. There was no way she, a royal of noble birth who had received such education, wouldn’t recognize what had happened to her.
Blood-Sucking Demon Spear. An extremely ferocious and wicked living spear.
More insidious than a leech, this spear not only drained blood when it pierced but also absorbed life force along with it. And that wasn’t all? The spear itself was like a living monster, tearing into flesh and devouring entrails.
It nourished itself in the process, growing ever stronger. Wounds inflicted by such a thing were not easily healed by ordinary means.
‘My entrails felt like they’d been ripped out, yet they’ve mended without a trace. Truly remarkable holy power. If the one bestowing this holy power isn’t an Ancient God, then who could it be?’
Magic, holy power—they were ultimately just two among the myriad forces existing in this world.
They couldn’t overwhelm every other kind of power. There were advantages and weaknesses based on compatibility.
Yet the holy power of the Hope God transcended that level. Even as the Blood-Sucking Demon Spear’s magic tried to ravage and burrow into the wound, the moment the holy power took hold, all those efforts vanished into nothingness.
It was as if it declared: I’m trying to heal this woman—do you dare resist?
It ignored all obstructions entirely and achieved its purpose. The princess suddenly realized her condition had reached its absolute peak. A euphoria swept through her entire body, making her feel as though she could do anything right now.
‘The best way to sharpen battle instincts is through actual combat.’
This was her chance to reclaim one of the things she had lost to illness.
Right now, it felt like she could do it. Everything was in perfect condition.
If she couldn’t do it now, she never would. And conveniently, there was an opponent right in front of her perfect for a real fight. The princess glared at the duke with fierce eyes.
‘Damnable wretch.’
Ardaine von Illumina was furious. And it wasn’t just because Duke Shumira had openly declared her treason. The duke’s cowardly actions held an even greater share of that rage.
She had ambushed guests who had come as visitors.
That alone meant Duke Shumira had crossed a line that should never be crossed. One couldn’t deny that such despicable tactics could yield massive gains if successful, but they were equally taboo for that very reason.
To the victim, they provoked utmost fury.
Had she driven them away before they could enter the territory or attacked first from that moment on, they would still have become enemies, but the grudge wouldn’t have built up to this extent. The enraged Imperial Dragon manifested on earth, borrowing the form of Mana Aura. The princess’s face twisted into that of a wrathful demon, as if she would cleave Duke Shumira in two right then and there.
“Dragon Aura!!”
Only then did the duke’s arrogant expression crack for the first time. As she made a flustered face and thrust out both hands, crimson mists coalesced around them, taking the shape of aura. The wrathful dragon’s charge was blocked by demonic claws and deflected aside.
Mana Aura clashed against Mana Aura, but the first collision wasn’t intense—instead, it was oddly harmonious.
Like water and oil touching, they slid off each other without merging. Neither side overwhelmed the other; they were perfectly balanced. This was outside the duke’s expectations.
“No way...!”
The imperial Dragon Aura was renowned for its power,
but it shouldn’t bridge the fundamental gap in realms. And yet they were evenly matched!
Her opponent hadn’t even been an expert to begin with.
How was this possible? What in the world was happening?
Was the wall between Master and Expert this thin? Could a woman who had only lain ill, without any training, break through it? Did this make any sense?
It was just a single realm’s difference, but wasn’t the gulf between them supposed to be as vast and treacherous as a ten-thousand-ri cliff?!
“You’ve reached the Master realm?! How on earth? What miracle drug did you swallow?!”
The duke soon realized she wasn’t even favorably matched in terms of compatibility. She emanated a red steam-like mana from her entire body.
Her bizarre Mana Aura kept trying to invade the golden momentum but was repeatedly repelled. It was as if some sacred blessing enveloped the entire aura, blocking the intrusion of evil power.
The duke’s face twisted in shock. Her Blood Sea Aura’s power lay not just in its raw might but in its specialization at corroding and crumbling others’ mana.
Failing to do so was no different from starting with one arm severed. Seeing the duke flounder, the princess finally smiled.
“Duke. For someone who’s so brazenly revealed her treasonous heart, your skills don’t seem to back it up. I wonder if you could even bear the weight of a crown.”
“Even the imperial Dragon Aura... My Blood Sea Aura can’t erode it at all? What nonsense is this? Your ascension to Master is surprising enough, but there’s no way the auras should differ this much!”
Duke Shumira, gripping the bewitching spear called the Blood-Sucking Demon Spear, cried out.
“My Blood Sea Aura is the aura that can blanket the world in a single drop of blood. Even if you cancel the aura with raw power, the blood force within it must erode you—or at least your aura!”
Regrettably, no matter how bewitching the properties of her Mana Aura,
the moment it tried to infiltrate and exert its malign influence, the divinity shattered that power to pieces. Even Grimudo’s jet-black aura, which dyed everything in darkness, couldn’t surpass the Hope God’s blessing—how could Duke Shumira, no matter how strong, exceed the ancient demon king?
“I can’t accept this. There’s no way you’re that strong.”
The duke kicked off the ground and rose into the air, forming hand seals with both hands as she chanted a spell. A hazy crimson mist billowed thickly, dyeing the surroundings entirely red. Wails like the heavens themselves weeping echoed from all directions. It sounded like sobbing ghosts cackling, or perhaps shrieking in torment. It was as if countless skulls were screaming.
The ceiling melted, dripping blood. The gold floor dissolved in the bloody rain and crumbled, while the crimson mist blanketed the world. But before the rain and mist could take form and attack Ardaine, the golden aura suddenly compressed.
This was a technique even she had never used before, but somehow, it felt like she could pull it off.
This was the moment. Beyond mere peak condition, when euphoria overflowed and she felt capable of anything. When her body moved as her thoughts willed and her mind was crystal clear, without a speck of dust.
A secret art handed down through the imperial lineage for generations, but merely passed down without demonstration.
A forbidden technique rarely unveiled to the world.
It erupted forth with such natural and masterful ease. The smiling princess let out a shout.
“To treat guests to wails as your finest music— no wonder high society never invited you, leaving you to play queen in this backwater!”
She would counter wails with wails of her own.
This is the dirge I play for you!
“What bullshit...”
Duke Shumira couldn’t finish her retort.
The moment the compressed aura burst forth, a brilliant golden light filled her vision. Rather than a beast’s roar, it was closer to the sound of a natural cataclysm—a completely unfamiliar resonance vibrated through the air.
The bloody raindrops shattered under the sound waves and scattered, while the Blood Sea Aura that had engulfed everything vanished as if washed away. Only the unprecedented roar grew in intensity, resounding endlessly.
No one had ever heard a dragon’s cry before, but it was certain. This was the cry of a dragon.
The roaring dragon’s voice, the Dragon Fear, overwhelmed the chamber. The waves of fear emanating from the aura stripped the duke’s soul bare and tore at her body. Covered in blood, she crashed to the ground before regaining her senses.
Only after vomiting a gush of blood from her mouth did she scream in disbelief.
“W-what technique is this?!”
“The Roaring Dragon Strike. A secret art passed down through the imperial family for generations.”
“You expect me to believe that? I’ve never heard of any imperial using such a thing!”
“You need to reach Master just to even attempt it. How many imperials ever became Masters? And even then, it’s not a technique to be used lightly.”
As she spoke, the princess’s arms trembled faintly. For a moment, she nearly retched up what she had eaten, and her head spun as if drunk. Even with holy power continuously flowing in, the arm gripping her sword shook.
Even as a Master, she couldn’t have activated this technique on her own, and forcing it would have severely damaged her arm.
Whoosh!
The surrounding holy power flowed in like water, restoring her body to normal, but that was the nature of such a technique. That was why imperials had almost never had occasion to use it.
Imperials learning swordsmanship and reaching the Master realm was rare to begin with. Mastery wasn’t achievable through theory alone; it required grasping enlightenment through life-or-death real combat. How often did imperials face such risks?
Imperials strong enough to contend for the throne naturally focused on the throne, not training. They had no reason to fight at the forefront, risking their lives.
Succession struggles were waged with politics, not swords. They were too busy managing state affairs, building factions, and politicking to find time for training.
For imperials far down the line of succession, who could scarcely dream of the throne, devoting themselves to martial arts was even harder. Their siblings would eye them warily and obstruct them, and their status as royals meant they rarely saw real combat anyway. Real combat tied into military merit, and such opportunities to earn fame through valor weren’t easily granted to such imperials.
What if one somehow became emperor? Surely, with the world’s elixirs at their disposal, reaching Master would seem easy—but was the throne a simple seat where one ate and swung a sword?
What need was there for an emperor immersed solely in training, neglecting state affairs? That was work for knights or generals, not the emperor himself.
Even Ardaine, who had by chance wandered battlefields and gathered moments of enlightenment, hadn’t ascended to Master on her own and required the aid of the Lineage Sapling.
Even after becoming a Master, she couldn’t fully control this power and nearly suffered great harm herself. The technique demanded an extraordinary level from its user.
Thus, the Roaring Dragon Strike had revealed its true might after truly long ages. It was certainly worthy of a technique personally devised by the founding emperor. Having languished in obscurity for so long, its unveiling delivered a tremendous shock. Duke Shumira crawled on the floor with a soul-shattered expression.
“Duke. If you have any last words, I’ll hear your final testament.”
The princess strode toward the duke. The sword in her hand was a cheap piece bought for a few silver coins from one of Larphentia’s forges, but a weapon’s worth lay more in its wielder than the blade itself.
Not even the old smith who forged it could have imagined this sword beheading an imperial duke and queen of her race.
“Last words...? No, nothing’s over yet.”
In a situation clearly finished to any onlooker, the duke crawled backward and shouted.
“Don’t look down on me like you’ve already won. You can’t kill me. Absolutely not.”
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