Chapter 335
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 335
Chapter Title: What Do You Want?
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When they first heard about the Continental Alliance, the military regime leaders believed it.
Their victory was set in stone.
No matter how mighty Egypt was or how formidable the African tyrant, adding their own forces to the Utopia Guild left no room for defeat.
They were horrified when Hasneti suddenly appeared and massacred the summons, but that shock was fleeting.
Seeing Branga's leisurely attitude and the thousands of summons gradually overwhelming her, they regained their confidence in victory.
Relieved that allying with the Summon Lord had been the right call.
"What are you doing? Fight! Don't run—attack, I said!"
But at this moment...
They had no choice but to realize just how grave their miscalculation had been.
The number of summons, once numbering in the thousands, had dwindled to a mere few hundred.
Even those remaining scraps were beyond Branga's control as she bellowed in rage.
Above all, the chilling pressure emanating from Hasneti—who casually slaughtered them with blasts of scorching flames as effortlessly as breathing—drove the point home to their bones.
They could never defeat that monster.
"G-Get out of the way! Move it!"
"You get out of the way, you bastard! Do you know who I am, blocking my path?!"
From that point, hell broke loose.
Everyone in the banquet hall began shoving and pulling at each other, desperate to flee.
It was an unbelievable disgrace for warlords who had elevated their private armies to nation-sized powers.
Or rather, the exact opposite.
It happened precisely because they were all heads of military regimes.
That African tyrant had no reason to let live the fools who dared to challenge her.
So, with their keen survival instincts, they all realized they had to escape before their shield—the summons and Branga—collapsed.
"What a mess."
That was why.
In the now chaotic banquet hall, the boy standing calmly at its center seemed all the more out of place.
In truth, Rimon had no reason to waver.
He had been certain, from the moment the Flame Dragon Corps appeared, that it would end like this.
Of course, Branga hadn't yet unleashed her trump cards like 【Overlord】 or 【Behemoth】.
But even if she did, it wouldn't change the outcome.
Diego, the specter of the Liberation Brigade who had gained power surpassing even gods, had died like an insect to the dragonized Maya.
No mere lord—not rampaging on instinct, but properly dragonized via the Progenitor Return Style—could handle Hasneti.
That was why the Seven Dragon Corps were called the pinnacle of military might, and why even a Sword Master avoided battling the princess in their presence.
And so, Rimon asked casually,
"What are you doing? Why aren't you running?"
"Are you saying we should flee?"
"You're the one who said we'd bolt immediately if that chain-smoking princess spotted us, right, sis?"
"...Yes, that's true."
Her gaze still fixed on Hasneti.
Rose nodded to Rimon's words, tossed over his shoulder without even turning.
For her, who could teleport as easily as breathing, escaping this place was child's play.
The problem was...
"But where to? The Kilimanjaro Autonomous Government? Or the Great British Empire?"
"..."
"Not that it matters either way. Kilimanjaro's about to get smashed anyway."
Rose fell silent.
Instead, the Lukuma chieftain—who had been trembling with the fainted Shuu on his back amid the chaos—gaped in horror.
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"Your tribe's finished. All the military regimes at this banquet, included."
"No...!"
The Lukuma chieftain paled as realization dawned late.
Once Branga fell and Utopia crumbled, no one would stop Hasneti.
Africa's conquest was only a matter of time.
And after that?
Would Hasneti really leave alone the ones gathered here to oppose her?
Even if they escaped unscathed, as long as they remained on the continent, they were as good as dead.
Their tribes would fare no better.
They might save their necks, but enslavement was inevitable.
This was Africa, after all.
"Th-Then what do we do now?"
"Beats me."
"Huh?"
"Didn't you hear? Me and sis are outta here."
Only then did the chieftain realize that "outta here" meant not just the banquet hall, but the continent itself. His eyes bulged.
"You're abandoning us?!"
"What, acting surprised now? We've told you a bunch of times we'd leave eventually."
"But...!"
The two had mentioned it in passing, but he'd never taken it seriously.
Yet in this situation, they really meant to go.
To the chieftain, it sounded like they were just scared of Hasneti and running away.
"General, please, do something!"
"No use saying that, chieftain. Sis already decided to leave."
"That's absurd! You're the head of our military regime, General! How can you abandon your own nation?!"
"..."
The Lukuma chieftain pleaded desperately.
He knew there was little the two could do in this mess.
But he had no choice.
With his tribe facing extinction or wholesale enslavement, they were his only hope.
Rose watched him with a hardened expression for a moment.
Then she turned to Rimon and asked softly,
"What do you want from me?"
"That's what I want to ask you."
Rimon chuckled.
Only then did he finally turn his head, meeting her blue eyes directly.
"Forgot? You're the one in charge of calls here."
"..."
"So spill it, sis. Are we bailing or not? And what do you want to do?"
He didn't care.
What mattered was her will.
Decide quickly.
Watching Rimon speak so nonchalantly, Rose bit her lip.
'This is a test.'
She had known from the start that Rimon brought her along to gauge her worthiness.
And her choice had been set from the beginning.
For someone who valued the Seven Dragon Society above all, needless conflict with Hasneti was to be avoided at all costs.
Escaping Africa immediately was the best—and only—answer, as she herself had said.
No need to agonize.
Just act.
Yet she couldn't take that obvious step.
It wasn't just the chieftain's desperate gaze making it hard to ignore.
The quiet eyes watching her every move, as if appraising her choice, shook her resolve.
Watching Rose hesitate in a way unbefitting the Azure Dragon Princess for a moment...
Rimon chuckled.
"If you want to help but can't because of your position, just stand down."
"...You plan to fight her?"
Rose tensed.
If Rimon clashed with Hasneti here, war would erupt on the spot.
The worst possible outcome in every way.
"Don't worry. No intention of fighting."
As if to say he knew that much.
Rimon waved it off lightly.
Then, drawing an item from his waist, he smiled faintly.
"I wanted to chat with that chain-smoking princess anyway."
"Ridiculous..."
Branga spat up a mouthful of blood.
Then muttered hollowly,
"Wiping out my entire guild's summons single-handedly... It's so absurd it's funny."
Corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses.
From the massive sky-blanketing monstrosities to tiny rabbits.
The thousands of summons lay dead, most reduced to ash without even scraps of flesh in the banquet hall.
No—now a full battlefield. Branga grinned there.
"Truly, a woman worth falling for."
A snapped leg.
A face twisted by burns.
One arm severed from the elbow down.
Even sprawled in a state where death seemed imminent, Branga giggled up at Hasneti, who gazed down coldly for a moment.
Hasneti asked in a hoarse voice,
"Why didn't you go all out?"
"Don't ask the obvious. What man fights a woman at full strength?"
"Pathetic nonsense."
As if scoffing at the gall of claiming he'd gone easy on her.
Branga looked sheepish under Hasneti's icy words.
"I'm regretting it too. Should've thrown everything at you from the start, no holds barred."
He'd thought summons sufficient before her dragonization; after, no chance to unleash full power.
Thus, he'd lost pathetically.
Grinning as he spoke, Branga soon leveled a meaningful smile at Hasneti.
"Look forward to it. Next time won't end so easy."
"..."
"And then, I'll make you mine..."
Splat!
Hasneti swung her tail, shattering Branga's head.
Whatever excuses a loser spouted, she had no interest in the prattle of the weak.
But right after...
Her brow twitched.
The clearly pulverized Branga's corpse melted away, transforming into a monkey's body.
'...A hidden summon remained.'
She had slain Branga only after exterminating the rest, anticipating something like this—yet he'd stashed one away.
A monarch of Africa worthy of the title, in his caution.
"Only the victor gets a next time."
But Hasneti paid Branga no more mind.
With grievous wounds and summons annihilated, recovering power and forces would take him years at least.
He posed no threat until then—and even less after.
Dealing with the military leaders here would make Africa hers in short order.
So she turned at once.
Even minimized via Progenitor Return Style, dragonization was inherently an extreme burden.
The accumulated strain from battle already had her blood boiling; she needed to wrap this up as quickly as possible.
Not that there was any rush.
The place was surrounded, after all.
A single second was more than enough to roast the panicking pigs whole.
Yet the moment she raised her hand to incinerate the entire banquet hall...
Crunch.
Hasneti froze.
The banquet hall lay in ruins on all sides.
Yet in its very center, one person remained—calmly, brazenly refusing to flee.
Crunch.
As if this were his own living room, utterly relaxed.
Legs crossed on a chair.
Peeling away at a broken table leg.
With a platinum-hued carving knife in one hand.
Slowly whittling it down.
Hasneti stood silent, hand outstretched, staring at the tanned blond boy.