"Texas!"
Seeing Texas lying in the distance—her condition unclear, hovering between life and death—Exusiai panicked. She wanted nothing more than to charge forward and drag Texas back immediately.
But she knew her limits.
Outside, she'd just been hunted down herself. If Chen Mo hadn't arrived in time, she would have ended up the same way.
So there was only one thing she could do now.
"Please, Chen Mo! I'll cover you—just save Texas and bring her back!"
"Please!"
Under everyone's intense gaze, Chen Mo waved a hand and swept his eyes across the formation of heavily armed enemies ahead, expression turning unusually serious.
"Even if you didn't say it, I'd still save her. I'm not the kind of person who watches someone die."
"And these people… they don't look like a gang at all. The 'Cat Gang' pulling strings in District 18—are they some kind of foreign force wearing a gang's skin?"
Chen Mo dealt with gangs often. One glance was enough for him to tell these weren't street thugs—if nothing else, the fact that not a single one of them was trying to run said everything about what they really were.
"I'm going to test them," Chen Mo said. "Exusiai, find the right moment and drag Texas back."
"Huh… you don't need my cover—?"
Exusiai didn't even finish the sentence before Chen Mo—tail swaying wide behind him—walked forward alone.
That arrogant, unhurried approach naturally provoked the Victoria-born Felines ahead, proud of their identity. But they weren't the kind of trash that barked insults.
They simply made ready—silently, grimly.
Every face was tense.
No one showed the slightest contempt toward the man approaching them.
Because behind him, the gate he'd melted into molten iron was still smoking—heat rolling off it in thick, scalding waves.
Time passed.
A long moment later, the Feline subordinate who had warned Taran earlier whispered again at her side, finally breaking the deathlike silence.
"Miss… Miss?"
"…Go," Taran said hoarsely. Then louder, urgent, almost unrestrained—"Go! All of you—move! Everyone at once!"
The subordinate found it strange.
She had never seen her mistress like this.
That ecstatic expression, the way her entire body trembled with excitement—none of it had ever appeared on Taran before.
But as a subordinate, she asked no questions.
With a quick exchange of glances, the Felines advanced in disciplined order toward Chen Mo.
Boom—!
A surge of flame crashed forward.
It had worked countless times before.
This time, only a handful were caught.
"AAAH—!"
The screams lasted only an instant before silence swallowed them.
When even the ashes were gone—when nothing remained—terror sharpened in the survivors' eyes.
"What kind of monster is he…?"
"Even those demon-blooded freaks weren't this—"
"…Even if he's a monster, we still have to restrain him."
"For Victoria! For Goldas!"
Thud—
"Mm. That almost hit me."
Chen Mo casually blocked several slashing strikes, then shifted his body with ease, slipping through a rain of arrows.
He was genuinely surprised.
This trick of his almost never failed—most gangs, once they saw their comrades consumed by flame in an instant, lost their nerve and broke.
But this was as far as it went.
He whipped his tail, smashing a Feline who tried to sneak in from behind and sending her flying. Then he rolled his neck, expression tightening.
"Careful," he said. "I'm going to start spinning."
The heat around him intensified.
At the tip of his massive tail, bright flames began to burn—alive, violent, almost celebratory.
In his hand, the black blade Ashen grew hotter and hotter.
The D32 steel—an exceptional sword—was being forced to endure the continuous strain of Chen Mo's Originium Arts.
The living structure within the weapon surged, more active, more volatile.
He kept pushing it higher.
Higher.
Until it reached the sword's limit.
And what manifested outwardly—
Was a blazing greatsword, flames roaring so intensely they lit the entire dark warehouse.
Boom—
Every slight motion made the air shudder.
Every brush against the ground carved grooves into the floor.
"I've wanted to try this for a long time," Chen Mo said lightly. "Too bad the opponents I've met were always garbage. This time, I finally get to enjoy myself."
As he spoke, he flicked his eyes—subtly—toward the corner.
Exusiai had already taken advantage of everyone's attention and quietly dragged Texas away, hiding her out of sight.
Only then did the tension in Chen Mo's chest loosen.
Good.
Now I can go all-out.
Boom!
He tapped the ground with his toe—cratering the floor as it collapsed—and shot forward like a spear, leaving a long, searing trail of flame behind him as he plunged straight into the formation.
"Move! Front line—block him! Archers, lock down his movement from the rear!"
"No—no, we can't—can't hold him—AAH!"
"Don't panic! Protect the Lady! For Victoria!"
It was as easy as cutting tofu.
As effortless as piercing paper.
Chen Mo had no swordsmanship.
No formal combat technique.
But with overwhelming Originium Arts, the razor-edged Ashen, and the monstrous physique of a pureblood Draco—
He hit the elite soldiers of Goldas like a truck plowing into sheep on an open road.
Touch him, you're wounded.
Meet him head-on, you die.
The sword Ashen swung in chaotic arcs, with no recognizable pattern—yet each twist of his body snuffed out more lives in fire.
Anyone could see it.
Chen Mo was a complete amateur.
He wasn't "slashing" people so much as smashing them with a sword.
And yet this amateur—casually, effortlessly—burned through the few remaining elites of Goldas until nothing was left but ash.
The Feline subordinate who had warned Taran earlier finally understood.
She stared in horror at the massive horns and tail wreathed in wildfire—at the figure advancing like a walking catastrophe.
"Miss—run! He's… he's—cough—!"
She tried to use her last breath to tell Taran what Chen Mo truly was.
But Taran didn't move a single step.
Looking down at the subordinate who had done her duty until the last moment—now crumbling into ash—Taran forced her trembling body under control and lifted her eyes to meet Chen Mo's approach.
Her voice was low, reverent, and filled with gratitude.
"Your efforts… the heroic spirits of Goldas have witnessed them all."
"Your sacrifice was not in vain."
"…I have also completely confirmed his identity."
As Chen Mo drew closer, the heat rolling off him like a living furnace, tears streamed down Taran's face.
Thump—
"Huh?" Chen Mo froze mid-motion, just as he was about to take her head with one clean strike. He stared at the blond woman who had suddenly dropped to one knee before him. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to beg for mercy? You're lucky I'm LGD now. If this were before, I would've reflexively treated you like those trash gangs and burned—"
Before he could finish, her voice—bright, fervent—cut him off.
"May Heaven bless Victoria. May Heaven bless Goldas."
"Your Highness… you've finally… finally come to our side."
What the hell…?
Watching the Victoria noble heir kneeling on one knee, sobbing openly, Chen Mo felt a very bad premonition crawl up his spine.
The last time he'd felt this was when that bizarre gang called the police to arrest him.
But Taran—too overwhelmed to notice Chen Mo's stiff posture—kept her head lowered, letting hot tears fall onto the ash of her subordinates.
Her loyal subordinate's death should have been tragedy—
But if the one who caused it was a male Draco, then grief meant nothing. Cost meant nothing. Everything became acceptable.
She had ordered this "test" without hesitation.
They had died exactly as they should.
Because the Goldas family's long-held obsession—
The chance to restore Victoria—
Was standing right in front of her.
"Your people cry in agony beneath the pressure of war."
"Your throne has been defiled by filthy evil."
"Rare, pureblood male Draco—great and valiant Red Dragon of Atraeas…"
"Please lead your people in a counterattack on Londinium—drive out those villains!"
"Victoria, riddled with wounds, needs your descent, Your Highness!"
Dragging the battered Texas over, Exusiai wore a face of pure shock. When she noticed Chen Mo looking back at her with a deeply uncomfortable expression, she awkwardly turned her eyes away.
"Uh… I didn't hear anything. Texas, you didn't either, right?"
"…Right," Texas answered flatly.
-------
My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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