It was nothing more than a momentary glimmer.
However, the blow Julien dealt was far from a basic strike.
It served as a formal proclamation that he would defy the entire world to protect the woman he loved; that brilliance was the physical manifestation of his resolve.
Skak!
The crimson dragon, Kvarnex, who had been lunging toward Julien, was momentarily stunned.
There had been no warning. He had only pivoted his massive frame out of pure instinct after a bone-chilling sensation of dread washed over him.
Despite that reaction, one of his limbs had already been nearly severed.
"You mongrel… how could you…"
Kvarnex fixed a lethal stare on Julien.
A strike that crossed the distance without a single tell?
The Julien he remembered had never displayed such proficiency, not even during the final conflict with the Adversary. Yet, in this short interval, his prowess had ascended.
"It seems the rumors were true… this realm truly does grant you power."
Had he been in his draconic form, the injury might have been catastrophic.
Evading would be the wiser course if this duel continued, but after witnessing that technique, facing him in a human vessel was no longer viable.
Without a second thought, Kvarnex reverted to his true draconic state.
Fwaaaaaaash!
In that same heartbeat, a sacred radiance enveloped Julien and his band of mercenaries. It was a divine favor Deneb had hurriedly cast while she was being ushered away by Astion.
Kvarnex was not the only threat descending upon Julien.
Their target was the legend who had toppled the Adversary. Even if he had relied heavily on the Saintess's support, he was a combatant capable of slaying a dragon single-handedly.
The other dragons followed suit, resuming their titanic forms and unleashing 9th-circle incantations at the hero.
Kwoooooooom!
Waves of volatile mana tore through the surroundings.
By the narrowest of margins, Julien darted through the chaos, his blade singing once more. Each time his steel flashed, the dragons were unable to retreat in time, their hides weeping blood.
Kraaaaaaah!
Two of the beasts, consumed by fury, lashed out with magic in every direction. Suddenly, massive high-ranking spirits materialized around Julien.
Kwoooooaaaaa!
Infernos like hurricanes erupted. The dragons' sorcery warped the very air, and the ground beneath them began to liquefy and crack.
They knew the hero would not fall to such meager efforts. To truly break him, they had to strike with every ounce of their combined might.
Julien refused to yield. His sword sliced through the arcane weaves and bit deep into dragon flesh alike.
From the earth, a spirit of stone surged to bind a dragon's legs, while a blue tide summoned by a water spirit swallowed the molten mana.
Above, spirits of gale and spark tore toward the dragons.
Bang! Bang! Baaang!
The raw power of the spirits battered the dragons' frames. However, the beasts retaliated by crushing the spirits with sweeps of their massive tails and wings.
Spells of the highest circles fell like a torrential storm, and an unbearable weight of force bore down on Julien.
Still, he maneuvered through the onslaught, his blade never slowing.
Skak! Skak!
With every flare of light, draconic scales were ripped away. The beasts roared in a mixture of agony and indignation, their movements becoming increasingly frantic.
Kwooooooom!
The violent stalemate between Julien and the dragons showed no sign of an easy conclusion.
Holding off two dragons simultaneously, Julien's power was nothing short of legendary. Yet, he could not afford a moment of peace.
'Astion… you have to hurry…'
Even without counting Arterion, there were seven of them.
Two were occupied with Julien; two more had split off to deal with Lionel and the mercenaries; and the remaining three were in hot pursuit of Astion.
No matter how skilled Astion was, he couldn't survive a three-on-one encounter with dragons. Lionel might endure, but the rest of the mercenaries would find even a single dragon insurmountable.
He had to ensure Deneb's safety, but he couldn't bear the thought of his comrades dying. Only by executing these dragons swiftly could he hope to reinforce the others.
Driven by this desperation, Julien fought with a savage intensity, pushing his limits.
Bang! Bang! Baaaaang!
The dragons were taken aback by his sudden, brutal aggression. He was far more formidable than they had anticipated.
Yet, they did not retreat, meeting Julien's ferocity with their own.
Julien was holding his ground against two dragons. In fact, as the minutes ticked by, he was slowly seizing the advantage.
The rest of the group was not so fortunate.
As Julien had dreaded, Lionel was struggling just to parry the strikes of a single dragon.
Thuuuuud!
Absorbing the impact of draconic magic, Lionel was driven backward, a massive shield of mana flickering before him.
Even a warrior like Lionel, capable of besting an Apostle, found the raw power of a dragon in its true form to be a different league entirely.
He wasn't being completely overwhelmed—he could still stall the beast—but he was pinned down.
The true tragedy was unfolding among the other mercenaries.
Kwoooooooom!
"Uaaaaaagh!"
As a dragon's tail cut through the air, those who were too slow to react were instantly vaporized into a crimson mist.
Despite the protection of Deneb's blessing, they simply couldn't survive such physical devastation.
Only Tyron and Osvald, having reached the heights of superhuman ability, were able to withstand the pressure and strike back.
Yet, their attacks were not enough to end the fight. While they could pierce the dragon's thick hide, they couldn't land a killing blow.
With every spell cast and every physical collision, more mercenaries fell, their cries echoing through the battlefield.
"You monster!"
With tears streaming down his face, Tyron lunged. Witnessing the deaths of brothers-in-arms he had fought alongside for years was a torment he couldn't bear.
Osvald, too, was weeping.
His tears were a cocktail of terror, the primal urge to flee, and a burning hatred for the loss of his friends.
"Uwaaaaaah! Just die!"
Kwoooooom!
Tyron and Osvald ignited their very life essences, throwing themselves at the dragon in a final, desperate gambit.
No dragon could completely disregard the suicide charge of a superhuman.
However, while they could cause significant pain, they couldn't bridge the fundamental gap in their existences.
"Look at these insects, struggling in the dirt."
Gwooooooooh!
A 9th-circle spell manifested. Dozens of titanic spheres of fire rained down upon the surviving mercenaries.
Bang! Bang! Baaang!
Explosions rocked the earth with every impact. The mercenaries were torn apart by the concussive force.
Those who managed to survive the initial blasts were picked off by the following waves of magic.
As their numbers dwindled, Tyron and Osvald became more reckless, their own bodies starting to fracture under the strain.
Elsewhere, Astion was a blur of motion, sprinting away with Deneb clutched in his arms. He had discarded his staff.
In this environment, magic was useless to him.
'Curse it! This mana field is too dense!'
The dragons were well aware of Astion's reputation as a 9th-circle archmage. To neutralize him, they had saturated the entire region with a crushing mana field.
Even for one of his caliber, casting spells through such interference was an impossibility.
Fortunately, thanks to Ghislain's influence, Astion's physical body had reached superhuman levels. He channeled every drop of his internal mana into his muscles.
Kwoooooaaaaa!
He transformed into a streak of light, yet the dragons were gaining on him.
With a trembling voice and tear-filled eyes, Deneb pleaded,
"Astion, please… just let me go. Our friends… they're all dying…"
"Be quiet! We aren't going to let them win!"
"But… I have to be there. I have to fight with them."
Wiping his own tears, Astion spoke with grim finality.
"No. Even with you there, we can't win this fight. We have to save your strength for when we are actually ready. If we want any hope of punishing those traitors, we have to survive. Everyone knows that—that's why they're dying to buy us time."
Despite the rage simmering in his chest, Astion forced himself to think logically.
Kyle, Marika, Ereneth, the whole of Julien's Corps. Even Andrew, Leo, and the Valesant forces.
A full mobilization was the only way they had a prayer of winning.
Deneb had to survive until that moment. If they stayed and fought now, she would be killed or captured.
Furthermore, if they failed to escape, their allies elsewhere would be blindsided by the enemy's deception and slaughtered individually.
Survival was the only path to retribution.
'If only Kyle were here…'
Kyle had ascended to the title of the Continent's Greatest Sword. In terms of pure blade-work, he was considered superior even to Julien.
While the mana field neutralized Astion's magic, it would have done nothing to slow Kyle.
If the trio of Julien, Kyle, and Lionel had been together, they could have easily held the line and retreated.
Astion felt a pang of bitter regret. They should never have separated.
'We shouldn't have been so eager to pursue.'
He hadn't anticipated such a total betrayal. He had assumed the mission to hunt the fleeing Apostles was a logical next step.
After all, the hero's party had always handled the Apostles.
But the entire scenario had been a trap designed to divide them.
The only silver lining was that Lionel had stayed behind, and he was currently occupying one of the beasts.
Astion ground his teeth until they ached.
Even now, his friends were being slaughtered to pave his way out.
The tears wouldn't stop, and his heart felt as though it were being shredded.
'I'll kill them… I'll kill every single one of them.'
He nurtured that hatred, letting it burn. He would hunt them all—the Empire, the elves, the dwarves.
He would become a Demon King himself if that's what it took to get his revenge. He knew Julien felt the same.
Kwoooooooooaah!
Astion forced his mana to explode, pushing his speed to the limit.
The city was sprawling, and the Allied Army was camped at a significant distance.
He just had to reach them. In the chaos of the camp, they might find a way to slip through the dragons' net.
Perhaps their other allies had returned. If so, their odds of escape would skyrocket.
Clinging to that thin thread of hope, Astion reached the very edge of the city, only to skidding to a halt.
"This… this can't be…"
A massive, shimmering veil stretched across his path. It was a magical barrier that denied all physical passage.
This wasn't something a single dragon could manifest.
Dazed, Astion looked back.
The dragons had already surrounded him, wearing their human guises to facilitate the Saintess's capture. They were smiling.
"We knew you would try to run."
"So we took precautions."
"The barrier wasn't just for the sealing ritual."
The array had been designed to encircle the entire city in an impenetrable wall.
It was a masterpiece of cooperation that the dragons had spent days preparing. Breaking it would take an eternity they didn't have.
Astion was trapped.
One dragon stepped forward, his voice calm.
"Astion, hand over the Saintess. Let her make her own choice."
"..."
Astion didn't bother responding. He simply gathered his mana. He couldn't cast spells, but he wasn't going to surrender Deneb without a fight.
Expecting resistance, the dragons launched their attack.
Kwoooooooom!
Astion's fist met a dragon's. A shockwave rippled through the air, and surprisingly, it was the dragon who was shoved back.
Deneb's blessing was empowering Astion's every movement.
But he was facing three of them. Before he could follow up, a second dragon struck.
Bang!
Crunch!
A blow to his ribs sent Astion tumbling. However, the holy energy healed the fracture instantly, allowing him to spring back to his feet.
Bang! Bang! Baaang!
The dragons rotated their strikes, tag-teaming the mage. Astion, an expert in close-quarters combat even without magic, held his own remarkably well under the influence of the blessing.
But protecting Deneb while fighting was a nightmare. He was essentially fighting dragons with one hand tied behind his back.
The dragons, realizing the potency of the holy energy, became more aggressive.
Kwoooooooom!
Astion was hammered into the ground repeatedly. Yet, the divine power flowing through him kept him in the fight.
The dragons paused, exchanging looks of surprise. They knew about the holy power, but Astion's martial skill was far beyond what they had expected.
"To fight like this while shielding her…"
"It's impressive. I remember hearing he was capable with his fists a decade ago, but this is something else."
"It's a blow to our pride, but we should stop holding back."
At this rate, the skirmish could last for days.
If their goal was simply to kill them, they could have shifted forms and ended it in seconds. But the Saintess was a required asset.
The dragons intensified their mana, closing in on Astion with newfound savagery.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The strikes were relentless. Astion focused every bit of his willpower to block and weave.
Then, a dragon found the opening he needed. He caught Astion's arm and twisted.
Crack-crack-crack!
The shoulder shattered. While the holy power began to knit the bone back together, Astion's posture broke for a fraction of a second.
Instantly, another dragon lunged from behind, pinning him and crushing his torso.
Krrrrrrrrack!
"Grkh!"
It was a lethal wound, but again, the sacred light flared to repair the damage.
But that tiny window of time was all they needed.
With Astion momentarily immobilized, the third dragon struck the arm holding Deneb.
Crack!
The arm was restored a moment later, but the grip had failed.
In that heartbeat of weakness, the dragon snatched Deneb away.
"Deneb!"
"Astion!"
Kwoooooooom!
A final blow sent Astion skipping across the pavement.
He scrambled to get up, but a dragon was already hovering high in the sky, clutching Deneb tight.
"He's surprisingly good at brawling for a magic-user. That took longer than it should have. I'm taking her to the Lord. Clean up here and follow me."
With that, the dragon ascended and vanished into the distance.
Another dragon stretched and took flight as well.
"One dragon is more than enough for a mage who can't even use his spells. Any more would be an insult to our kind."
"Well said. I'll finish this quickly and catch up."
"Don't take too long, Darbaska."
The final dragon, Darbaska, smiled down at Astion and raised a hand. Spheres of incinerating flame began to form.
Even as death stared him in the face, Astion didn't look at the dragon.
"Deneb…"
He could only watch the empty sky where she had disappeared, his eyes hollow with despair.