The iron-gray dragon streaked across the night sky at a blistering speed, its wings stirring the air into a deafening sonic boom.

Beneath its claws was the head of a kin.

The head was already in a state of utter ruin — its owner long destined for eternal slumber beneath the earth.

Yet the Empire’s elders had turned it into such a chaotic and pitiful monster.

Fael wasn’t sure how to describe what he was feeling at that moment.

It wasn’t sympathy for Constantine; Dragon Clan members rarely extended such emotions outside their own tribe.

But still, he couldn’t help but worry: would his own fate one day mirror Constantine’s?

Even after death, finding no peace.

“Perhaps Ravi was right. Once you get entangled with the Empire, it becomes near impossible to walk away unscathed...”

Fael silently recalled those days in the far northern lands. Ravi had confided in him many times about the Empire.

In essence, Ravi, the Dragon King skilled in space magic, had never truly trusted the Empire.

Yet for complex reasons, he could not avoid working with them.

In the end… he lost his life to an out-of-control burst of his own magic.

And tonight, after witnessing the Empire’s intentions and Constantine's tragic end, Fael became even firmer in his desire to withdraw from all of it.

Still... he would need to wait for the right moment.

Otherwise, with the Empire’s methods, turning Fael into the enemy of both humanity and the Dragon Clan wouldn’t be a difficult task.

“I had always heard of the Iron Wing Dragon King’s incredible speed, but to experience it firsthand is something else entirely,”

the human man perched on the dragon’s back said leisurely.

“Mr. Scott, the Empire’s much-anticipated resurrection experiment of Constantine has once again been toppled by Leon Casmode.”

Fael interjected calmly, “I imagine Mr. Erlandy will take issue with that, won’t he?”

Implying, of course, that instead of standing here spewing nonsense, Scott should probably start worrying about the grilling he’d face from his master upon his return.

“Take issue? Hmm… yes, perhaps he will. But it truly doesn’t matter much,”

Scott replied, trying to maintain an air of composure despite his nervousness. “Constantine’s resurrection was only meant as a test for the fusion formula. If it fails, it fails. The Empire has plenty of materials left to create more ultimate beasts of his kind if needed.”

Fael understood what Scott meant by “materials.”

In addition to organs from various dangerous beasts, the most critical component was, of course, the Dragon Clan’s Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale.

That was the key ingredient, one capable of fusing Constantine’s dragon head with other organs from dangerous beasts into a perfect whole. It unified the powers of disparate bodies and eliminated the rejection between their parts.

To be honest, before this, Fael hadn’t known that the scales of his kin had such a function.

It only made him realize something grim: in some ways, these humans were crazier than dragons.

Their insatiable thirst for power was, from another perspective, no less intense than that of the Dragon Clan.

Collaborating with a species like this... it was only a matter of time before they turned on Fael as well, draining him as nothing more than fuel for their ambitions.

Fael was clever. And he had already calculated that the risks of continuing this alliance far outweighed any potential rewards he might reap.

So...the best way was to flee.

Scott, still lounging on Fael’s back, droned on smugly about the Empire’s next steps. How the fusion formula would be further perfected, how the lessons they learned would ensure that the next reincarnation of Constantine would undoubtedly kill Leon... and on, and on.

Fael found the chatter agonizing.

But suddenly, his senses sharpened as he detected a strange surge of energy.

Glancing downward, Fael narrowed his dragon’s eyes in disbelief.

The source of that power... was the severed head clutched in his claws.

“Constantine… could it be that you’re… still alive?”

And yet, what was even more shocking followed: Fael’s question, though voiced in the quiet corners of his mind, prompted an unmistakable response.

He listened intently to the faint whispers of the dead.

Though sympathy wasn’t necessary among kin, a tiny gesture of aid required little effort. So why not?

“I see. Constantine, I hope you complete your revenge.”

The iron-gray figure tore through the night sky, heading directly for the human Empire.

---

In the Empire Royal City, Fusion Formula Laboratory.

Scott arrived hastily, his nerves frayed and apprehension heavy in his heart.

When he had taken Constantine to the Red Dragon Sanctuary, Lord Erlandy hadn’t placed too much pressure on him. Erlandy had said that eliminating Leon wasn’t strictly mandatory; it was only meant to be a test.

But Scott knew better than to take his boss’s words entirely at face value — not acting on them was a surefire way to invite trouble later.

So he’d embarked on the mission with a determined mindset: Leon *had* to die.

However, now, not only was Leon alive and well, but all they brought back was Constantine’s severed head.

The cost had been steep: numerous high-level Dangerous Beast organs lost, as well as the sacrifice of Dragon Clan’s precious scales.

This level of loss… well, given Erlandy’s infamous temper, it was likely Scott would face a torrent of scolding.

But then again, who could say for sure? Erlandy did say it had only been a test.

And tests, after all, often came with some failures, right?

So Scott resolved to first report the “good news” of the mission before delivering the bad.

Admittedly, there wasn’t much good news to speak of… but surely he could scrape together something.

Eventually, standing at the laboratory door after his inner turmoil, Scott pressed his lips together, raised his hand, and was about to knock—when Erlandy’s voice erupted from inside.

“Someone tell me what the hell happened here!!”

“If I don’t get answers tonight, all of you can expect to be on the gallows by morning!”

The voice wasn’t that of Erlandy the man; it was the roar of a raging bull.

Scott’s knees began to buckle, dread clawing up his spine.

He could already envision the spectacle of Erlandy verbally eviscerating the royal sorcerers inside.

What on earth had happened?

Surely things hadn’t gone so wrong as to warrant… execution threats?

Before Scott could slip away in hopes of coming back later, the lab door abruptly swung open.

“Scott?”

The cold, deathly voice froze Scott to the marrow. Even his spine shivered.

Swallowing hard, he turned around timidly. “L-Lord Erlandy.”

“When did you return?”

“Well, I…”

“How did it go?”

Scott’s gaze darted left and right as he stammered for a proper response.

Erlandy’s impatient snort broke the silence. “Useless. Where is Constantine? Did you at least bring him back?”

“Constantine… Constantine is back, yes,” Scott replied, his voice trembling. “But the rest… well, not so much.”

“What do you mean, ‘the rest’?” Erlandy frowned.

Scratching nervously at his temple, Scott clapped his hands.

Two attendants promptly wheeled in a cart carrying the severed head of Constantine.

At the sight, Erlandy pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”

For a fleeting moment, Erlandy felt a pang of regret for not sending Nacho instead.

Both Scott and Nacho had their fair share of failures, but at least Nacho didn’t fail so… comically.

“What about the scales? Did you at least retrieve Bly’s Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale?” Erlandy asked, a note of urgency creeping into his voice.

Scott leaned back slightly, his head lowering. “Uh... well... the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale… was destroyed by Leon.”

“Destroyed?”

“Yes… I think he used some kind of long-range spell to directly obliterate Bly’s scale. When that happened, Constantine was... torn apart.”

Scott paused, then quickly added, “B-But! Lord Erlandy, I risked my life to retrieve Constantine’s head! As long as we have this, combined with the other scales in the warehouse, we can continue creating even stronger fusion beasts. Next time, for certain, we’ll—”

“There won’t be a next time, Scott.”

“W-What? Lord—Lord, please have mercy!”

Before Scott could grasp the gravity of those words, Erlandy grabbed him by the collar, hauling him forcefully into the lab.

Once inside, Erlandy hurled Scott onto the floor.

“Leon Casmode didn’t just destroy that one scale.”

Scott cautiously lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on the pedestal where the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scales were once stored.

It was now nothing but ash.

Erlande’s voice grew as cold as death itself. Each word was an icy blade:

“He destroyed the five other scales you brought back on your last trip. The chain reaction of that blast also obliterated every remaining scale in our stockpile.”

“In a single moment, that bastard wiped out years’ worth of the Empire’s efforts.”

“Before, I considered him merely a rogue variable standing outside the game board. But now, he has overturned the board over entirely.”

“Leon Casmode will never know the wrath he has unleashed.”

“From this moment on, the Empire will stop at nothing to destroy him.”

“Until… there isn’t even dust left of his bones!”