A thousand-year sleep is a walk through hell, even for the long-lived. You wake with strength like winter sap, drained and slow.

As such, Queen Dreamlan and Soul Devourer Sormaidon should stand near equal. Both roused recently, their power shouldn’t be worlds apart.

Yet legend spits when speaking of Sormaidon: a whelp among its kind, a hollow scale. Its might is borrowed, a soul-devouring gift from kneeling to Chaos.

Hundreds of thousands of stalwart Nacha Tribe souls are caged in it. That enslaved chorus famed it in myth and is now its edge.

Unlike Dreamlan, no matter how long it sleeps, it can sip strength from their wails like a winter wind.

In the Magma Forge turned battlefield, this edge shows brutally on their forced defense, like tide against crumbling cliffs.

Elven speech flowed like song, with sharp accelerations like hawk dives. On iron-forged ground, green traces sprouted like moss from steel.

In legend, places Queen Dreamlan fought bloomed into seas of roses. After torrents of mana, roses attuned to her soul drank the spill, birthing that spectacle.

But this time the scene was different. Every sprout budded brief, then, under glaring white light, withered and fell.

It turned to cold dust, hard as steel, like frost blown from a blade.

Next moment, the hum in its throat ended, a hive gone silent. A beam scythed through dust toward the chant, melting all it touched.

It cut the song, lifted its head, and closed on Kabos’s scrambling team like a glacier bearing down. Its mocking eyes declared and proved its claim.

The Magma Forge is its home turf now, a den of fire and iron.

Thick green vines thrust from the air like spears of spring. They climbed its leg spines and coiled its neck.

They wrenched its breath aside a heartbeat before the white light devoured Kabos’s crew like surf swallowing boats.

Scarlet blood arrows tore the air, aimed for those wicked eyes like twin comets.

Sormaidon didn’t even blink. A film of translucent liquid covered its eyes like glassy pond-water.

Arrows that pierce heart-scales stalled half a meter short. Their power drained; they fizzed into motes of light, gone like fireflies.

The incomplete wood-binding spell failed to twist its neck. It tore the spell like dry twigs.

Not only that, it even smacked its jaws and turned toward the blood arrows’ source, bored as a cat.

“Sacrifice Domain, and Blood Magic again…” It scrutinized Adelaide, musing.

“Curious. Has humanity mutated? Why are your strong always defilers of Blood Magic?”

As it spoke, a deep blue flare skimmed its wing and snagged its attention like a fishhook.

In the same beat, several golden streaks slashed at its knees. The wing attack was only a distraction.

Green and red beams, with Kabos’s bolts, chased the gold like a meteor shower.

Yet Sormaidon ignored the harsher threat and fixed on Mira, the bait, hawk-eyed and cold.

An explosion bloomed like a black flower. As before, the translucent liquid blocked all.

Unscathed, Sormaidon commented lazily, dragon-tongue echoing in the black-iron chamber like a bronze bell.

“No, this one smells tasty too, yet the scent runs wrong. Those chains on the soul look familiar… Hm? Are you linked to that red one?”

Chains on the soul… Wait—does it recognize Tessmi’s Lament on Mira?

Her hand hesitated on the next spell, a bird pausing mid-flight. The sudden clue made her swallow; freezing up was deadly.

A dragon roar crashed a heartbeat later like thunder on stone. It shattered her array and buckled her knees.

She nearly dropped to the floor, a reed bowed by storm.

The roar’s dispel hits Adelaide hard; it’s proven more than once. She knew, so she packed offerings for body-boosting spells before they left.

In theory, she could recast after each dispel and avoid the Rahman fiasco, shutters slammed fast against squalls.

That heartbeat of distraction put her half a step behind. Even rapid casting couldn’t catch up.

The destroying white light reached her face before the array rebuilt, an avalanche on glass.

Luckily, a green curtain of light rose before her like a leaf shield. It held the white glare for a single second.

Adelaide felt her weight lift; Princess Mira pulled her clear, swift as a gull.

A clean rescue, yet not without cost, a coin paid to the fire.

Sormaidon saw Adelaide free and turned its skull. It locked on Queen Dreamlan, who had cast the save.

She failed to dodge and barely shielded herself, like a door slammed in a gale. Her barrier formed inches from her breast.

Thankfully the breath was already ebbing, so it didn’t break through, a tide pulling back.

Even so, the shield didn’t swallow all that heat. Dragonfire splashed off it like welding sparks showering dark steel.

Except every spark was a sheet of toxic white magma. It splattered onto the Nacha treasure mound.

Gold and silver boiled to scorched metal slurry, a river of coins melted to mud.

No one had room to mourn the loss. Queen Dreamlan ignored priceless relics melting into slag.

A hundred-meter array formed behind her like a star map. Crowded sigils squeezed the space and focused mana into five nodes.

Those nodes lanced energy into the focus crystal before her. It became a one-dimensional pure ray, a blade of light.

In a blink, it shouldered the dragon breath back, wind against wind.

Wind howled through the Magma Forge. Every corner was swept by mana.

It was the fiercest output since the fight began. Even Sormaidon had to lift bone-wings to shield itself.

To tank it, the translucent liquid on its wings thickened to more than double. Even so, the layer began to melt, like frost under sun.

For the first time, a breach seemed possible. Hope budded in the team like spring grass.

Then the barrage ended, chopped off by a sudden explosion, a song cut mid-note.

It wasn’t Sormaidon’s strike. The blast came from the melting hoard near Queen Dreamlan.

A prototype flame gun lay within, a serpent among gold. Its fuel chamber softened in the heat and self-detonated.

At that instant, Queen Dreamlan was wholly bent on the array. She had no mind for defense.

The shockwave flipped her away. Her white figure arced through the air like drifting willow catkins in spring.

“Long-ears—!”

Varie’s frantic shout couldn’t stop the curse of twin misfortunes. Dreamlan landed on a section already raked by Sormaidon.

Fresh explosions popped in a chain like firecrackers. The wavering floor screamed like bending steel.

Dark red light glowed through the cracks, lava lanterns beneath. It reached its limit and began to give way.

As the floor tilted steeper, crates and gear slid toward the gap like a landslide. Dreamlan, prone, slid with them.

She was about to tumble into the dark-red magma glow, a petal toward flame.

Varie saw and didn’t waste an extra arrow at Sormaidon. She sprinted for Dreamlan like an arrow loosed.

At the last instant before collapse, she seized a steel chain anchoring the floor. The pure-steel weight yanked her forward.

She almost slid in too, feet skidding like skates on ice.

But she ground to a stop short of the crack. Muscles strung tight as bowstrings, she arrested Dreamlan’s fall.

Get up—Dreamlan!!!

She shouted with everything she had, lungs like bellows. This time she didn’t spit “long-eared wench.”

Dreamlan heard her name and stirred, mist lifting off water. She propped herself up with one hand, slow and calm.

Varie...

Get up here, quick! The chain’s about to give!

Varie clenched her jaw. Her boots slid inch by inch.

The chain in her hands creaked with metal fatigue, old bones groaning. Urgency bit like frost.

Yet Dreamlan didn’t leap back to safety. She glanced at Adelaide and the others fighting Sormaidon to buy time.

Then she turned to Varie, eyes like quiet moons.

Varie, with just us, we can’t kill it.

What—did you get a concussion? What nonsense? You nearly had it just now!

No. I’ve confirmed it. Even without interference, I can only pierce at a single point.

Such a small wound means nothing to a dragon, a pinprick on a mountain.

Dreamlan lowered her gaze, thoughtful, like a calm pond. Her calm showed it wasn’t concussion but calculation.

If even the Lionheart Hero struggled to break its soul-woven shield, I’m even less likely now, a swallow against iron nets.

Metal twisted and cried again. Varie’s toes slid to the lip of the crack.

She could only shout, cutting Dreamlan off, voice like a whip.

Can you get up here and talk later? Please!

Dreamlan still stood on the failing ground. She only shook her head and met Varie’s eyes.

The gravity in her gaze sent a shiver through Varie, mountain weight on a reed.

Varie, do you want to run?

I… Varie faltered, a deer in torchlight.

If you want to go, I can at least get you out. But that’s not the only path.

For the first time, Dreamlan stood utterly solemn, a blade in its sheath. Tell me, Varie—what end do you want?

Varie froze like a struck stone. What was she saying?

What option exists besides flight, wings before storm?

Her mind hammered the verdict: I’m an unfinished Hero. Dreamlan can’t win.

Stay and die. The only path is to run, like sand from a broken hourglass.

Yes—only flight, like birds before a storm.

Because beyond that, we can do… nothing, hands tied with winter rope.

Reason whispered that truth. Yet Varie clenched her teeth.

The remnant-soul’s last image flashed and burned, an ember in her mind. Hatred, fury, shame…

The long-buried heat roiled in her chest. It broke reason’s dam and became a shout.

Nonsense! Of course I want to... kill this damned lizard!!!

Behind them, Adelaide flung legion-class magic—Crimson Frenzy—through the air, a red squall. A dragon roar stripped it, reducing it to raging mana particles.

They whipped the Magma Forge into a beast-toppling gale. Beneath them, dark-red magma bubbled.

The supporting chains hit fatigue. Stress points brightened to an unnatural silver, moonlight on wire.

Dreamlan stood there, listening to Varie’s vented roar. A faint smile tugged her lips, like a crescent over water.

Then let me help you fulfill that wish, Varie.

She spoke and drew the dagger Varie had gifted her from her waist. Varie’s heart quivered at the sight, a plucked string.

Wait, what are you doing—don’t!!

Dreamlan slid the blade across her own wrist, light as a petal. On Elf skin that stays unstained even in smoke and rubble, a new color marked the alabaster.

Fine beads of blood welled out, dew on ivory. She gave them a satisfied glance.

She sheathed the dagger and tossed it toward Varie, a silver fish in flight.

Varie, I truly liked this gift. So please keep it safe for me again.

She smiled. Then—see you in a little while.

Menglan kept a soft smile, a crescent over stormy water, and simply waved.

The steel chain gave a cracking boom the next second.

Varie had no time to do anything; she could only watch Menglan drop before her eyes, into a bottomless sea of lava.

The crushing weight vanished from her hands, and Varie’s legs went weak; she knelt at the rift like a pilgrim before a red abyss.

Seeing Menglan disappear, her mind went blank, a struck bell gone silent, leaving one impulse pounding: jump, pull her up before it’s too late.

She drifted forward in a fog, almost unconsciously leaning toward the fissure, when someone seized her.

“What are you doing! Adelaide won’t last if this keeps up!”

Mira yanked Varie around, and she saw Adelaide nearby, trading raw magic blows with Soul Devourer Sormaidon, sparks arcing like meteors.

In that instant, her slit pupils shifted; tiny star-flames kindled, then flared into a bonfire of hate.

Golden motes gathered around her, dyeing the tips of her hair in a sacred glow, fireflies circling a moonlit stream.

In the next heartbeat, the air pressure broke like a passing storm, and with a whoosh, Varie vanished from Mira’s sight.

Not far away, Soul Devourer Sormaidon had raised a claw to crush Adelaide, when it suddenly lost balance.

A side shock slammed in, strong enough to rock a giant; its massive body rolled, and ripples spread across its translucent soul armor.

From the impact point, rings fanned out like water, a scar Adelaide hadn’t carved even with a volley of legion-tier spells.

At the same time, Varie rode the recoil and vaulted high, a hawk burst upward on a gale.

In the air, three arrows charging at once blazed gold, and her scream tore out, raw with pain and fury.

“Give it all… back to me!!!”