My Overpowered Bunny Girls

"Everyone! BRING HIM DOWN!"

The entire army collapsed on the wound. Derek’s Salamander exhaled a blinding beam of crimson heat that seared the exposed muscle. Elise threw a hyper-dense [Glacial Lance], flash-freezing the boiling blood and spreading deep, jagged permafrost across the dragon’s chest. Dillon bypassed gravity with [Flash Step], driving [Thunder Edge] directly into the frozen tissue. KRAK-BOOOOOM. Kuro materialized in the chaos, driving [Assassinate] deep into the outer casing of the ancient heart. Shink-Shink.

Garrett and Red executed the final breach. Red slammed its hardened horns into the dragon’s knee, forcing the king to bow, while Garrett brought Volcan down with an earth-shattering [Impact Strike] directly against the frozen, burning, pierced organ.

Nathan stood in the backline. He had been holding [Focus Shot] for sixty agonizing seconds.

The Capacitor was completely dead. The Leyline Ring was entirely inert. The compression charms were blown out. His mana was gone. Not low. Gone.

Every single microscopic ounce of magical energy he possessed, and some that he didn’t, was violently compressed into Moonlight’s silver arrowhead. The Tyrant’s Eye swallowed the ambient light of the throne room, blazing with the intensity of a dying star. His arms were shaking so violently he could barely keep the bow level. His vision was a pinpoint tunnel. His knees were buckling.

He was entirely, unequivocally empty.

Master, Mirko’s voice was exhausted, bloodied, but brimming with a fierce, absolute pride. Finish it. For Drak’thar. For our forgotten people. For everyone the Shepherd burned.

For the fire that refuses to die, Kuro whispered.

Nathan let go of the string.

THWOOOOOOOOOM.

The arrow was not just a projectile. It was the culmination of everything. It was the weight of six High-Class Towers and a brutal Elite expedition. It was the ash of Ashwick, the blood of the Crimson Depths, the defiance of Mirko, and the cold certainty of Kuro. It was the physical manifestation of a fire that refused to go out.

The beam of pure, obliterating silver light crossed the cathedral. It punched flawlessly through Vorlagrath’s exposed chest, tore cleanly through the ancient, glowing heart, and exited out his spine, carving a burning silver trench into the far wall of the throne room.

Vorlagrath froze.

His massive body went entirely still. The golden fire in his eyes flickered once. Twice.

His great wings slowly folded against his back. He looked down at Nathan, then at Mirko, and finally at Kuro. The ancient, terrifying visage of a king who had suffered for centuries slowly softened into something that looked profoundly like peace.

"Thank you," the dragon whispered. The voice was no longer the grinding of tectonic plates; it was the soft, gentle sigh of wind rustling through tall, golden grass. "For ending the sentence. For proving that the old alliance was not forged in vain. The fire still burns. The embers still glow."

He slowly bowed his great head.

"Take my heart. Wield it well. And when you finally stand before the Shepherd... when you face the god who broke the world... remember Drak’thar. Remember the Demi-Beasts. Show him that we did not bow."

The Last King of Drak’thar began to dissolve.

He did not crumble into grey ash. His massive form broke apart into millions of brilliant, golden embers that drifted lazily upward, illuminating the dark cathedral like a second, beautiful dawn. His tattered wings were the last to fade, catching the light one final time before scattering into the warm air.

"An ember carried by the wind can ignite a forest," the fading voice echoed softly. "Be the ember, Summoner. Be the fire."

The golden light faded. The throne room fell into absolute, reverent silence.

[Ding! Vorlagrath, the Last King of Drak’thar — Defeated!]

[Ding! Floor 15 Cleared!]

[Ding! Fallen Piece of Drak’thar: Full Clear!]

[Overall Clear Rank: S]

[Clear Time: 8 hours 47 minutes.]

[Level Up! Nathan Cross: Level 54]

[Level Up! Mirko: Level 51]

[Level Up! Kuro: Level 39]

[Level Up! Garrett Voss: Level 47]

[Level Up! Elise Winterhart: Level 50]

[Level Up! Dillon Briggs: Level 45]

[Reward: Dragon’s Heart Core (Mythic Material) — The blazing heart of Vorlagrath, Last King of Drak’thar. Pulses with the power of a true dragon’s soul. A catalyst of immeasurable potential.]

Floating quietly in the space where the king had perished was the Dragon’s Heart Core. It was a massive, jagged crystal of crimson and gold, pulsing rhythmically with a deep, internal fire.

Nathan walked forward on trembling legs and took it in his hands. It was incredibly warm. As his fingers brushed the faceted surface, he felt something vast and ancient stir within it. The echo of a proud king. The lingering memory of a fallen empire. The physical embodiment of a fire that refused to die.

As he held it, the System chimed one final time.

[Ding! Dragon’s Heart Core Acquired!]

[Third Summon Condition 3 Met! Catalyst Item Obtained!]

[Third Summon Available!.]

Nathan stared blindly at the glowing blue text. Months of grueling, agonizing climbs. Six High-Class clears. An impossible Elite Class expedition. The looming threat of the Nemesis Court. The tragedy of the Demi-Beasts. All of the blood, the sweat, and the ash had led to this exact moment.

He looked back at Mirko and Kuro. Both of them were battered and exhausted, Mirko’s armour suit was heavily cracked, and Kuro’s daggers were chipped—but their eyes burned brighter than ever. They had looked the ghost of their people’s murderer in the eye, and they had not blinked.

"One more to add to the family," Nathan said, his voice entirely hoarse, cracking on the words.

Mirko’s long ears perked up sharply. Despite her exhaustion, a massive, arrogant grin broke across her bruised face. "Hmph! This Knight shall be an exceptional senior! I have been meticulously practicing my mentorship techniques! They rely heavily on extreme volume, aggressive encouragement, and constructive, kinetic criticism!"

You have merely been practicing being loud, Kuro observed coolly, though a rare, genuine warmth bled through her tone. That is not the definition of mentorship.

"It is the bedrock of mentorship! The rest is just details!"

That is not how foundational learning works, Mirko.

"This Knight vehemently disagrees!"

Nathan let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob.

Across the sprawling throne room, the rest of the vanguard was slowly picking themselves up. Seraphine was leaning heavily on her shield, directing her medics. Torren was sitting on the glass floor, distributing the last of his mana restoratives. Derek Stone stood perfectly still, staring at the spot where the dragon had faded, his scarred face unreadable but profoundly calm.

They had done the impossible. Together.

Nathan held the glowing Heart Core aloft, letting its warm, golden light wash over the battered army.

"Vorlagrath said the Shepherd called these Towers a divine judgment," Nathan’s voice rang out, carrying through the quiet cathedral. "He claimed that only the strong inherit the world, and the weak are meant to perish." He looked at Garrett, steady and unyielding. At Dillon, irreverent but fiercely loyal. At Elise, calm and brilliant. At Mirko, proud and unbroken. At Kuro, silent and absolute. "He was wrong. True strength isn’t just raw kinetic power. It’s the people who refuse to let you fall. It’s the fire that simply refuses to go out."

He lowered the Core, clutching it tightly to his chest. "The third summon is next. The Cleansing comes after that. And whenever the Shepherd finally decides to show his face... we’ll be ready."

The primary assault group slowly gathered at the shimmering exit portal. The Fallen Piece of Drak’thar was finally quiet, its golden veins dimming into a soft, peaceful, sleeping glow. The Tower was broken. The Last King was free.

Somewhere in the deep shadows of the world, the Shepherd was undoubtedly watching.

But that was a war for tomorrow. Today, they had won.

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