Evil Dragon, Without a Princess, I Had to Transform Myself!

Chapter 109 : The Wind Still Exists

Golden pupils continuously shimmered with light as Loranhir masterfully wielded the power of the wyvern Yanubi. Ear-splitting roars, steel-rending dragon claws and fangs, and the Dragon Flame burning through his meridians were unleashed with mere gestures.

A power both pure and overwhelmingly dominant.

The infernal fury nearly swallowed Dreka whole, forcing the vampire overlord to transform into black mist and flee in panic, barely evading the pursuing wyvern's Dragon Flame.

The scorching heat burned both air and rain, steam blistering the Grand Duke's skin. Though with the vampire's exceptional regenerative abilities, the burns vanished swiftly.

After dodging a blast of searing Dragon Flame, Dreka quickly regained footing and seized the brief opening following Loranhir's Dragon Feast, lunging forward like a blood-stained hurricane with claws extended.

Elaphia, hiding behind the mist, tore open a spell scroll and unleashed a fireblast, striking the charging Dreka with precision before swiftly retreating back into the mist.

A smile unconsciously curled at her lips.

The ambush had succeeded. Dreka, caught completely off guard, took the full force of the fireblast—second only in power to Yanubi's Dragon Flame—releasing a cry of agony.

The sound nearly plunged Elaphia deeper into her frenzied thirst for vengeance. She seemed wholly unaware of the fading effects of the black honey, her skin gradually darkening to a deep black hue.

"Nothing but rat's tricks," Dreka spat, fresh flesh visibly weaving over exposed bone on his face.

"And you," he murmured darkly, "truly live up to being this era's hero. I can scarcely imagine the spectacle of you drawing your sword. But still too arrogant, far too arrogant."

"Then I'm afraid you'll never live to see it," Loranhir replied expressionlessly.

"But do you know why, from start to finish, facing both of you simultaneously, I never chose to flee?" Dreka pointed to the ground, where all blood spilled from his body converged beneath their feet, finally completing an intricate magic circle on the smooth stone floor.

"Ah," Loranhir started, his gaze clearing momentarily.

"Because this was my battle strategy all along."

Dreka traced every straight and curved line of the engraving, chanting a lengthy incantation. As the spell completed, the magic circle emitted an otherworldly sulfur scent, forming a connection between Loranhir and Dreka.

"...Soul Possession!" Elaphia finally realized in horror. "Damn it, Loranhir! You're his target!"

"What?"

"It's a possession spell! This bastard wants to project his soul into your body, trying to take over your form. Imprison your soul, make you watch helplessly as he carries out his next moves!"

Elaphia immediately panicked, reaching for another scroll to disrupt the magic circle with a mudslide spell.

"Too late," Dreka sneered, opening his eyes wide and pointing at Loranhir, focusing entirely as his soul poured forth.

"..." Loranhir's movements froze, his eyes turning dull and lifeless.

○

Dreka lifted his head, golden motes drifting in the infinitely expansive darkness. This was undoubtedly Loranhir's inner world, and he strode recklessly into this space.The encroaching black patches gradually turned crimson with the hue he brought. The possession spell worked flawlessly, with Loranhir offering almost no active resistance.

Dreka knew it wouldn't be long before the body of the strongest hero would be his.

Having already half-won, he casually wandered through the darkness.

But after walking just a short while, Dreka suddenly spotted a yellow lantern and felt a chill run down his spine.

The lantern was watching him.

But why would a lantern watch anyone?

And with such a bone-chilling gaze at that.

Before Dreka could release his presence, the darkness shattered completely. A towering, majestic creature emerged from it, scales clearly visible.

"A Wyvern?!"

Dreka stepped back.

This yellow lantern was the dragon's eye!

Yanubi's eyes held a deep resentment, followed by an ear-splitting roar.

The space it occupied was narrow, with blue ice forming not far away, and further still, a cluster of flames gathered like a symbol of death.

Initially, it had thought itself the only resident here—clearly, it was mistaken.

Not only that, but it couldn't afford to offend either of these beings.

Damn it, two ancient dragons!

Imprisoned for so long, its heart devoured, and now some fool dared to trespass into its last remaining territory.

This was suicide!

"This place is full! Get out!"

Yanubi released her dragon soul—a soul-shaking force that forcibly interrupted the possession spell.

All of Dreka's consciousness was instantly crushed by this draconic pressure. His entire body trembled as if he were on the brink of destruction.

○

"Ah!" Dreka's scream jolted Loranhir awake.

The once-arrogant vampire overlord was now crouched on the ground, clutching his head, feeling as if his entire body—from scalp to toes—was being slowly crushed by a massive stone wheel, drenched in blood and wracked with unbearable pain.

"What happened to him?" Loranhir felt like she had only zoned out for a moment, blinking once, and Dreka had ended up like this.

Elaphia beside her remained silent, her long nails pressing against Loranhir's throat as if ready to leave five bloody holes at any moment.

"Quick, tell me—when did the Princess give you the most trouble?" Elaphia demanded directly.

"Uh, why are you asking this?" Loranhir glanced at the blood-tipped fingers so close to her, swallowed, and replied, "Well, it was when the Princess refused to wear clothes while naked."

"Good, it's really you." Elaphia nodded in satisfaction and released her hand.

"What's wrong with him?" Loranhir pointed at Dreka, who was writhing in pain from the spell's backlash.

"His possession spell backfired when it encountered a tough nut like you," Elaphia explained. "You should know the specifics better than I do."

Loranhir thought of the Wyvern that kept appearing in her dreams and the eternal frost power that the defeated senior had forced upon her not long ago.

She probably figured out the reason.

'It's all because of that dragon.'

Dreka finally managed to catch his breath with great difficulty from the backlash. He sat up, his words dripping with venomous resentment, his eyes wide with fury.

"If it weren't for that dragon, if only that dragon weren't here! If only that dragon didn't exist!"

"That damned dragon!"Loranhir stepped forward without a word, swinging the ornate scabbard straight ahead.

With a 'thump', Dreka's face collided squarely with the holy sword's scabbard.

"Shut up," Loranhir said viciously.

Her attitude suggested that Dreka's words had somehow offended her.

"How strange, I should be terrified of Patunasankus, the evil dragon," she murmured to herself.

Loranhir was actually quite averse to violence. She couldn't explain why she had become so angry when Dreka cursed Patunasankus.

"I understand myself less and less," Loranhir sighed.

But it had to be said, the material chosen for the holy sword's scabbard was excellent—it was the blunt weapon that felt best in her hands.

Quite satisfying. She'd use it this way from now on.

Loranhir thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Elaphia had slowly extended her nails like spears and silently approached Dreka.

"Dead rat, what are you trying to do?"

"I'm going to make you taste fear," Elaphia said expressionlessly.

"I gave you eternal life, made you one of our great kind. I shaped who you are now. Without me, you'd be nothing," Dreka's eyes bulged, bloodshot. Under the backlash of the spell, he had no ability to resist. "Even your soul is bound to me. Kill me, and you'll die too. I will forever be the embodiment of your fear. Without me, you're utterly worthless."

"...Utterly worthless?" Elaphia chuckled darkly. "I'll always be your slave?"

Her dark claws mercilessly plunged into Dreka's body, again and again, blood splattering everywhere.

"I'm alive! I'm alive! I'm alive!" she kept shouting. Every bone, every inch of skin, every drop of blood, every cell seemed to scream.

Loranhir wiped her sweat, watching as Elaphia repeatedly stabbed Dreka. The once arrogant vampire overlord wailed incessantly until he fell completely silent.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore!"

Elaphia finally stopped. Tears welled in her eyes, her voice tinged with a damp moisture.

She let the tears flow freely.

Her mind seemed to have turned into a pool of clear water, dripping away until nothing remained.

Though this should have been the joy of slaying her enemy, she only felt a cold sorrow. All that was beautiful had passed beautifully, even the nightly mourning dreams had turned cold.

With her master's death, all that remained for her was impending doom.

○

"Elaphia, Elaphia," Loranhir called out to Elaphia, who sat lifelessly by the pond.

After a long while, Elaphia slowly responded, "...What is it?"

"He's dead," Loranhir pointed at the completely motionless body on the ground. "We should return now. The Princess is waiting."

"Hero," Elaphia's voice deflated, sounding like a crumpled piece of waste paper. "Listen, no matter what you say or do, I can't go back. To the Princess...Go on, do what you must. Don't mind me."

"Don't be foolish. The Princess is still waiting for you to return." Loranhir patted Elaphia's shoulder. "Go back."

"…I don’t want to make her sad. I’m just a stray dog about to die—it’s unnecessary." Elaphia spoke bluntly, her tone sluggish and weak. "You heard what Drekka said. He wasn’t wrong."

"I know," Loranhir nodded, "but I don’t want you to die as a stray dog. Come on, and besides, someone should stay with you."

"Moreover, the Princess wouldn’t want you to die in some forgotten corner." Loranhir lifted Elaphia onto his back. "If it were her, she definitely wouldn’t. I’ll carry you. Come on."

"…Is that okay?"

"Let’s go before the sun rises."

"Ah… Mm. Am I heavy?"

"Not at all."

"Maybe today is a good day."

"...Yes."

○

Patunasankus gazed at the dandelion in his hand.

"What’s wrong with this dandelion?" Shatina bent over and asked.

"Did you know?"

"?"

"Before a dandelion bears seeds, it lengthens its stem. I think it’s not just to be seen by people, but also by the wind," Patunasankus said softly.

"But there isn’t enough wind now to scatter this dandelion’s seeds," Shatina glanced at the motionless windmill behind her. "It bloomed in this shady corner—no wind will come to carry it away."

"That’s really not a big deal."

Patunasankus walked to the side. In the distance, endless fields of rice swayed like a dazzling shawl over the land.

The eastern sky glowed with dawn, though only a few streaks, they were brilliantly radiant.

Patunasankus cherished this tranquility, but it wasn’t long before the peace was shattered by a noisy commotion.

"…Hey, hey, hey! Don’t you dare die in my arms!"

"Don’t die, don’t die!"

"Listen to me! What’s 1+1?!"

"3?"

"Princess Latifa! Your Highness!!"

The pleasant serenity was driven away, causing Patunasankus to pause briefly. Without turning around, he quietly watched the dandelion in his hand.

She took a deep breath, then gently and slowly blew on the dandelion. One by one, dewy parachutes lifted into the air, carried by the breeze, floating skyward.

"The Princess is waiting just ahead, Elaphia! Don’t close your eyes!" Loranhir shook the motionless Elaphia on her back.

"…Mm." Elaphia responded sluggishly and opened her eyes.

At that moment, Elaphia once again saw the rising sun—its warmth, serenity, and gentle glow emerging from the night’s shadows. In the dewdrops of her eyes, it illuminated her once more.

The autumn sunlight filtering through the treetops danced and shimmered upon her shoulders.The Princess's eyes were still bright, so very bright. In the faint morning light, those azure pupils seemed to spill forth a sound-like quality, with curved, upturned eyelash shadows trembling there, holding within them happiness and the future, life and dreams.

"Loranhir, you know the language of dandelions, right?" Elaphia whispered to Loranhir.

"I don't know," the village girl hero blinked.

"...It's hope and freedom," Elaphia weakly lifted her gaze, her crimson eyes reflecting a field of white.

The dandelions' pure white filaments were like silk, like cocoons, shifting with strange light spots under the sunlight.

The blue sky, white clouds, clear water, brilliant sunlight, green grass, fragrant flowers, gentle breeze, and her.

All were beautiful. Elaphia couldn't think of any good descriptions, only feeling like she wanted to close her eyes.

The sun feels so warm today—when was the last time it felt this warm?

It seemed like yesterday, yet also like a lifetime ago.

"Hero, do you like her?" Elaphia asked deliberately.

"...No," Loranhir denied directly.

"Hehe, such a lying mouth," Elaphia laughed.

"If I spread my arms and embrace this wind, could I ride it away and be free from then on?" Elaphia asked.

"You... will. You definitely will," Loranhir's voice was very close, very close.

Even when the windmill stops, the wind still exists.