Westminster Bank

’Is the Dragon Eater Association trying to be some kind of tech powerhouse?’

Baron had griped about this before. While the Inner Side’s academic world was still busy denigrating Lankao and Master Bagins’ Twin experiment in the papers, the Dragon Eater Association had already put it into practice. And they’d used it to cause a great deal of trouble for the Inner Side’s Law Enforcers.

By comparison, the so-called academics of the Inner Side were just pathetic.

As these thoughts raced through Baron’s mind, he watched the High Priest take the Dragon Heart from a subordinate and devour it. The Spiritual Pressure erupting from his body skyrocketed in an instant. His bones and joints cracked and popped—CRACKLE, CRACKLE—like a paper shredder’s grinding gears. His entire body began a slow transformation, yet it was not the full Transformation into a Dragon, nor was he becoming a Dragon Attendant. It was even less like Baron’s own Assimilation, which merely covered his face with Dragon Scales.

A series of crisp cracks erupted from his joints. His body stretched long and thin, like a figure sculpted from modeling clay. Hard scales grew over the areas with the Alchemy Marks. His muscles pulsed like molten steel, and the scales on them slowly opened and closed, releasing wisps of white steam.

Amid the white steam, a pair of Golden Eyes flared to life.

Outwardly, the High Priest’s draconic form was indeed somewhere between a Dragon Attendant and a Cultist’s Transformation into a Dragon. It was nothing like Baron’s Dragon Transformation when he wore the Dragon Helmet. If anything, it looked as if he were wearing a custom-tailored suit of Dragon Hide, as most of his body still retained distinctly human features.

The High Priest drew out one of his own ribs, which transformed into a white longsword. "Perhaps you don’t know this, but I was once a Bronze Tier Contract Knight. Now, I’m quite curious to see how a legendary Dragon Knight like you differs from a Knight like me."

’What’s the point of knowing that? Though I guess you, like every other villain, must have some sob story,’ Baron griped inwardly.

He then holstered his Spear Sword and gripped the Dragon Spear. He had to admit, a named Alchemy Weapon like this felt incredible in his hands. Just holding it imparted a smooth, gentle quality, like touching a piece of jade.

"Have you heard the saying?"

The High Priest asked, "What is it?"

"Villains die from talking too much."

He leaped forward, Dragon Spear in hand. Dragon Flame ignited—on his body, on his spear, in every direction—making him look like an Angel that had just clawed its way out of Hell, one roaring for revenge against God. The kind that had just slaughtered its way through the inferno.

The villains—the High Priest and the surrounding Dragon Attendants and Cultists—bared their own claws and swords, determined to carve a chunk of flesh from this Angel.

But the Angel laughed. The instant their claws and swords were about to pierce his body, he suddenly slammed on the brakes, like a supercar screeching to a halt from two hundred miles per hour on the Autobahn. The ground shrieked, and the Dragon Knight’s immense Spiritual Pressure gouged a long, black trench into the earth.

Then, as all the villains—or rather, Demons—watched with shock, delight, or terror, he hurled the Dragon Spear at the High Priest and snapped his fingers.

Making a head "blossom" was a phrase typically reserved for the card table.

But now, everyone present witnessed that phrase made manifest. It wasn’t just one head blossoming; in a single instant, the heads of the dozen or so Dragon Attendants surrounding Baron all burst.

Brains, ichor, and blood sprayed out like the layered petals of a grotesque flower, splattering artfully across the nearby Cultists still frozen in their lunging attack on Baron.

While the Cultists were still gawking, trying to process what had happened, the Dragon Knight whipped out his Spear Sword and fired several shots, treating those whose heads had yet to blossom to a firework display of their own.

Meanwhile, the thrown Dragon Spear blazed with magnificent power, a trail of scarlet fire erupting from its end as it rocketed viciously toward the face of the charging High Priest.

But the High Priest reacted, twisting his body aside at the last second. He subconsciously reached out to grab the Dragon Spear, but the moment he touched it, a metallic voice that seemed to echo from the primordial wilderness detonated in his mind:

"BEGONE!"

He felt an almost subconscious urge to fall to his knees, like a courtier before his sovereign.

In that frozen instant, the Dragon Knight closed in. The scarlet trail behind the Dragon Spear solidified into a line of fire. Baron grabbed the fiery cord and gave it a hard tug, pulling the spear back.

The edge of the Dragon Spear flashed across the High Priest’s sharp cheek, carving a long, dark purple gash. The blood coagulated before it could even drip.

The High Priest’s pupils contracted. ’The spear tip... it’s poisoned!’

Of course it was poisoned. It was an ability Baron had gained from the first Dragon Pattern on his hand during his encounter with the Wax Dragon Bad, originating from the aura of the Poison Dragon Glanville.

The eight remaining, unactivated Dragon Patterns probably required him to collect the auras of other Pure-blood Ancient Dragons. Baron was indifferent. He was already saddled with quests from the likes of the Dream Master; what was one more?

It all happened in the space of a spark. When the dust settled, the ground was a sea of blood and fire.

All enemies within ten feet of Baron were dead. Only the High Priest remained, along with the hordes of Cultists and Dragon Attendants still swarming in from behind.

.........

The Hermes Necklace was an A Level Taboo Object Freya had inherited from her mother. By infusing it with Spiritual Power, she could teleport short distances within a limited area. The only price was that after each use, the necklace demanded a tribute of Gold proportional to the distance jumped. Only someone as ridiculously pampered as Freya could afford such an exorbitant cost.

Incidentally, one of the reasons that fellow Jack had appeared at the Lancelot family’s Buckingham Palace residence was to get his hands on this very necklace.

Using the *Hermes Necklace*, Freya instantly teleported past several guards who were closing in on her. Moments later, she appeared outside the Monastery.

However, the grounds outside the Monastery were now swarming with Dragon Eater Association guards. All that remained was the Lancelot family’s convoy, parked on an empty patch of ground not far away. The Household Servants and Guards of the Lancelot family who had been left there had vanished without a trace.

Even the Household Servant she had instructed to call for reinforcements if she stayed inside for more than an hour was gone. ’The Dragon Eater Association must have been prepared,’ she thought. ’They’ve already taken care of everyone.’

In other words, they never intended to honor the contract from the start... Freya’s heart was already heavy, having just learned of Lankao’s death from Constantine. Now, a bitter resentment settled over her.

But Freya didn’t panic. She had known all along that entering the Dragon Eater Association’s territory alone would be dangerous, and she had made other preparations.

Hiding in the shadows, she used a Communication Magic Card she had prepared to send a distress call to the local Demon Hunter Association. This was a special Magic Card reserved for the scions of the Old Blood Clans, making the response time significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary member of the Old Race. She was confident the Demon Hunter Association in Berthelili would arrive within minutes.

’Now, all I have to do is hide here and wait.’

Before long, several clear cries echoed from the sky above. One after another, Griffin Carriages bearing the emblem of the Demon Hunter Association descended from the clouds. Far more Demon Hunters had arrived than Freya expected. Their arrival immediately drew the attention of the guards watching the Monastery.

Freya expected a fierce battle to erupt at any moment. But the members of the Demon Hunter Association simply questioned the guards briefly, let a portion of their group enter, and then had the rest begin searching the perimeter for... something.

’Searching for who?’

Freya instantly thought of a possibility, and her bright, beautiful face fell.

Just as she feared, she saw the leader of the Demon Hunter Association contingent—a man with a ruddy, purplish face—order his subordinates,

"After her! As a Wizard, she can’t have gotten far, and her Spiritual Power is likely drained. The rest of you, with me! Into the Monastery!"

’The Demon Hunter Association and the Dragon Eater Association are working together... How could I not have realized? Mr. Constantine is in danger! I don’t know if he’ll be able to escape.’

Freya remained hidden in the shadows, suppressing her breathing. She tightened her grip on her Magic Staff, focusing on recovering her Spiritual Power.

’I have to find a chance and run. My Spiritual Power and the gold ingots in my Storage Crystal Stone are completely gone. The only way out is to sneak onto one of those Griffin Carriages.’

Freya waited for a gap in the patrols and searches. Seizing her chance, she leaped onto a Griffin Carriage.

’Even though I don’t know how to drive a Griffin,’ she thought, ’at least I took the full course series on *Magical Creatures*. I know how to interact with them.’

Just as she was thinking this, someone pressed a knife against her back.

"The young lady of the Lancelot family? Ready to go to Hell?"

Freya’s heart seized in terror. Then, she heard a gunshot from behind her.

"Shit, you stepped on my foot. You’re the one who can go to Hell."

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