Chapter 49

“Such immense power. It feels like I’ve become invincible.”

Ardein von Illumina, having received a surge of Divine Power, was left speechless by the overwhelming sensation. As a member of the royal family with proper education, she couldn’t possibly be unaware of what had just happened to her.

The Blood-Sucking Spear. A vicious, living spear of extreme cruelty.

Being pierced by this spear, more dreadful than a leech, not only drains blood but also absorbs life force. Not just that? The spear itself is like a living demon, tearing and devouring human flesh and organs.

While nourishing itself, it grows stronger. Wounds inflicted by such a thing are not easily healed.

“My organs felt like they were being torn out, yet they healed without a problem. Truly, this Divine Power is extraordinary. If it’s not the Ancient God who bestowed this Divine Power, then who could it be?”

Magic, Divine Power—ultimately, they are just one of the many forces existing in this world.

They cannot overwhelm all other kinds of power. There are affinities and weaknesses.

Yet, the Divine Power of the God of Hope surpassed that level. Even as the Blood-Sucking Spear’s magical power tried to tear and penetrate the wound, the moment Divine Power took hold, all efforts were rendered futile and vanished.

“I am trying to heal this woman. Do you dare oppose me?”

It felt like a declaration. Ignoring all obstacles, the goal was achieved. The Princess suddenly realized her condition had reached its peak. A surge of energy enveloped her entire body, making her feel like she could do anything now.

“The best way to sharpen combat senses is through real battle.”

This was an opportunity to reclaim something lost due to illness.

Now, it seemed possible. Everything was in the best condition.

If it couldn’t be done now, it might never be. A suitable opponent for real combat was right before her. The Princess glared fiercely at the Duke.

“Damn seed.”

Ardein von Illumina was furious. Her anger wasn’t just because Duke Shimira had revealed her rebellious intentions. The cowardly act she committed played a larger role.

She ambushed guests who came as visitors.

That alone meant Duke Shimira had crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed. While it’s undeniable that such despicable methods bring great benefits if successful, they are also taboo.

For the victim, it incites extreme rage.

If she had just driven them away from entering her territory or attacked first from the start,

it would have still made her an enemy, but the resentment wouldn’t have piled up this much. The enraged golden dragon manifested through the Power Techniques. The Princess, who drew out the technique, had a face twisted like a demon, ready to cut down Duke Shimira at any moment.

“Dragon Form Technique!!”

Only then did the arrogant Duke’s expression crack for the first time. She made a bewildered face, stretched out both hands, and a blood mist gathered around her hands, taking the shape of a technique. The demon’s hand blocked the charging dragon’s rage and pushed it aside.

Power Techniques clashed, but the first collision wasn’t fierce; rather, it was harmonious.

Like water and oil touching, they slid past each other. Neither side was overwhelming, maintaining a tense balance. This was outside the Duke’s expectations.

“This is impossible…!”

The royal Dragon Form Technique is renowned for its strength,

but it shouldn’t bridge the fundamental gap in skill. Yet, they were evenly matched!

The opponent wasn’t originally an expert.

How is this possible? What on earth is happening?

Is the wall between Master and Expert this thin? Could someone who’s been bedridden break through it? Does this even make sense?

Even if it’s just one level of difference, isn’t the distance between them as vast and treacherous as a cliff spanning thousands of miles?!

“Have you reached the Master level?! How? What did you consume to achieve this?!”

The Duke soon realized she wasn’t at a favorable affinity. She emitted a red, steam-like magical power from her entire body.

That bizarre Power Technique kept trying to invade the golden aura but was repeatedly repelled. It was as if a sacred blessing had enveloped the technique, preventing any evil power from penetrating.

The Duke’s face twisted in shock. Her Blood Sea Power is not just about the technique’s strength but specializes in eroding and collapsing others’ magical power.

Failing to do so was like starting with one arm cut off. Seeing her struggle, the Princess finally smiled.

“Duke. For someone who openly showed rebellious intentions, your skills don’t seem to back it up. I wonder if you could even bear the weight of the crown.”

“Even if it’s the royal Dragon Form Technique… my Blood Sea Power couldn’t erode it at all? How is this nonsense possible? It’s unexpected that you reached the Master level, but even so, the gap in technique shouldn’t be this vast!”

Duke Shimira, gripping the infamous Blood-Sucking Spear, shouted.

“My Blood Sea Power is a technique that can cover the world with a single drop of blood. Even if you neutralize the technique with power, the blood power within should erode you, or at least your technique!”

Unfortunately, regardless of how sinister her Power Technique’s attributes were,

the moment it tried to penetrate and cause harm, the sacredness scattered its power. Even Grimudo’s Black Technique, which dyed everything in darkness, couldn’t surpass the God of Hope’s blessing. How could Duke Shimira, no matter how strong, surpass the Primal Demon King?

“I can’t accept this. There’s no way you’re this strong.”

The Duke kicked off the ground, floating into the air, and chanted a spell. A thick blood mist rose, dyeing the surroundings red. A mournful wail echoed from all directions. It sounded like the cries of weeping ghosts, both laughing and screaming. It seemed as if countless skulls were shrieking.

The ceiling melted, dripping blood. The golden floor dissolved in the blood rain, and the blood mist densely covered the world. But before the rain and mist could form and attack Ardein, the golden technique suddenly compressed.

This was a technique she was using for the first time, but somehow, it felt possible.

Such moments. Beyond just being in good condition, a surge of energy makes you feel like you can do anything. When your body moves as you think, and your mind is crystal clear.

A secret passed down through the royal family but rarely shown to the world.

It burst forth so naturally and skillfully. The smiling Princess shouted.

“To play such mournful music for guests, no wonder you’ve been stuck ruling in this backwater, never invited to social circles!”

To mournful music, I’ll respond with mournful music.

This is the funeral dirge I play for you!

“What nonsen—”

Duke Shimira, trying to retort, couldn’t finish her sentence.

The moment the compressed technique exploded, a brilliant golden light filled the vision. A resonance, more like a natural disaster than a beast’s roar, vibrated in all directions.

The blood droplets shattered under the wail, and the Blood Sea Power that had been eroding everything vanished as if washed away. Only the unprecedented roar continued to grow in intensity.

No one had ever heard a dragon’s cry, but it was certain. This was the dragon’s cry.

The roaring dragon’s cry, Dragon’s Roar, overwhelmed the surroundings. The technique’s roar drained the Duke’s soul and tore her body. Only after she fell to the ground, covered in blood, did she regain her senses.

After vomiting a mouthful of blood, she shouted in disbelief.

“What kind of technique is this?!”

“Song of the Explosive Dragon. A secret passed down through the royal family.”

“You expect me to believe that? I’ve never heard of any royal using such a thing!”

“Originally, you need to reach the Master level to even attempt this technique. How many royals have reached Master? And even if they did, it’s not a technique to be used recklessly.”

The Princess’s arm trembled as she spoke. She almost vomited what she had eaten, and her head felt dizzy, as if drunk. Even while continuously receiving Divine Power, the arm holding the sword trembled.

Even as a Master, she wouldn’t have been able to activate this technique alone. Even if she forced it, her arm would have been severely damaged.

Swish!

The surrounding Divine Power flowed like water, restoring her body to normal, but this is that kind of technique. It’s why royals rarely had the chance to use it.

Royals who trained in swordsmanship to reach the Master level were few. Master is a level unattainable through theory alone; it requires life-and-death battles to grasp enlightenment. How often do royals face such battles?

Royals with enough power to contend for the throne are more interested in politics than training. Fighting on the front lines with their lives on the line is naturally out of the question.

Throne disputes are fought with politics, not swords. Busy with state affairs, gathering forces, and politics, where would they find time to train?

Royals far down the succession line find it even harder to focus on martial arts. Other siblings would hinder them out of wariness, and their royal status means they rarely face real combat. Real combat is tied to military achievements, and such opportunities aren’t easily given to these royals.

What if one becomes the Emperor? Certainly, the world’s treasures are theirs, making it easier to reach the Master level. But is being Emperor as simple as eating and swinging a sword?

If an Emperor neglects state affairs for training, what’s the point? That’s the job of knights or generals, not the Emperor.

Even Ardein, who coincidentally roamed battlefields and gathered enlightenment, couldn’t reach Master level on her own and needed the Phylogenetic Seedling’s help.

Even after reaching Master, she couldn’t fully control the power and almost suffered great harm. The technique demanded an extraordinary level from its user.

Thus, the Song of the Explosive Dragon truly revealed its might for the first time in a long while. It was a technique worthy of the founding Emperor. Having been hidden for so long, its impact was immense. Duke Shimira crawled on the ground, her expression almost broken.

“Duke. If you have any last words, I’ll hear them.”

The Princess strode towards the Duke. The sword in her hand was a cheap one bought for a few silver coins at a blacksmith in Larpentia, but a weapon’s importance lies more in its wielder than the weapon itself.

The blacksmith who made this sword wouldn’t have known it would become the executioner’s blade for a Duke and Queen of a race.

“Last words…? No, nothing is over yet.”

In a situation where anyone could see it was over, the Duke crawled and shouted.

“Don’t look down on me like you’ve won. You can’t kill me. Absolutely not.”