Boom!

The blast hit like thunder cracking a mountain. Even outside the cave, Lorin staggered as the earth heaved like a rolling sea.

“Y-Your Highness...?”

Hand on his sword hilt, Lorin wanted to ask what next. Ice surged like winter rivers in Nana Toki’s veins; she was already winding up to fight.

“They’re here!”

Roar—!

The Giant Dragon’s fury rolled from the cave’s black throat like storm surf. Before Lorin could blink, a cyclone screamed out like a desert whirlwind.

Roar—!

The Dragon’s vast shadow rose like a storm cloud to swallow the sun. Lorin was blown back; his vision snowed white, blood burst like a snapped cherry.

His bones felt like reeds torn by talons in a typhoon. For a breath, he thought he’d leave this beautiful world like a lone candle in wind.

Careful, Host. Even wounded, this Giant Dragon isn’t easy prey! The System’s voice chimed like a temple bell in Nana Toki’s mind.

Nana Toki didn’t plan to hold back. She lifted her chin like a blade toward the moon, sprang, and drove her ice-sword up like a winter comet.

To hell with it—stab first, questions later. Her mood was a flaring torch; her body followed like an arrow from a taut bow.

Clang—!

The sharp ice-sword scraped Dragon scales like iron bark, shrieking like frost over steel. Sparks scattered like fireflies, cold and bright.

She slashed again and again like rain on a tin roof. The Dragon remained untouched, while chips notched her blade like broken icicles.

Damn, that hard? Her thought snapped like a twig under boot.

Hum—!

Feeling its dignity pricked like a lion stung by a gnat, the Giant Dragon swept its vast wings like storm fans. Wind hammered Nana Toki midair like a wave.

Bad! Her heart dropped like a stone. She met the Dragon’s blood-red eyes—two embers in night—and its maw lit crimson like a furnace.

A gout of Dragonfire surged like a volcano’s breath, lancing toward her like noon sun in a drought.

Boom!

A heavy impact thudded like a drum in a war camp. Nana Toki flipped in the air like a swallows’ arc and landed steady as a stump.

She patted herself, baffled as midnight fog. No burns, no ash—the fire hadn’t touched her like rain missing a rock.

She looked up and saw Ling’er Long astride the Dragon’s neck like a storm rider, grappling it horn-to-scale like lightning knotted with cloud.

That thud breaking the breath? Likely Ling’er’s gift, a thunder-kick like a whip of sky.

“Quit spacing out—help!” Ling’er Long gritted her teeth, her leg cracked the Dragon’s cheek like a lightning lash. The beast howled like a quake.

It reeled, circling drunkenly like a torn kite. Suddenly, its head dipped like a falling moon, its body dove like a hawk at a hare.

The massive claws raked for Ling’er’s back like scythes in harvest, carving the air like winter wind.

“Watch it!”

Ling’er Long had just landed; she couldn’t dodge like a leaf in gale. The claws were about to shred her like paper in rain.

Sss-ss—!

From the earth, thick ice walls surged up like river slabs, blocking those talons like mountains shouldering a storm.

“Don’t split your focus in a fight.” Nana Toki’s face was pale as moonlight from overusing ice. She shouted from behind the frost, then charged like a wolf.

Her Black Great Axe glinted like a night thunderhead. She aimed to yank the Dragon’s hatred like a hook in a river carp.

Splat!

Under Nana Toki’s Colossal Axe, hard Dragon scales tore like foil, blood fountained like dark poppies splashing snow.

Pain raced from claw to spine like fire through dry reeds, flooding the Dragon’s vast frame like red tide.

Nana Toki’s Black Great Axe sang like a storm flag. Vertical chops, side cuts, slant hooks—blade and iron dance like tigers in bamboo.

Her moves turned the axe into a reaping moon. In a handful of exchanges, the Dragon’s body was a map of wounds like cracked ice.

Roar—!

It bellowed, shaking the mountain like a drum tower, rage boiling like magma in a sealed vein.

Scarlet Dragon blood pooled like a cursed lake, stinking like sulfur rain. Nana vaulted like a cat, one hand on a horn like gripping a ram.

She drove the axe down like a headsman’s crescent, no mercy, no pause—fate fell like winter night.

Thump!

At the same time, Ling’er Long’s crushing punch slammed in like a piledriver, a clean-through shock like a spear in wood.

The Dragon crashed like a falling cliff, its bulk flattening trees like grass under hooves. Splintered trunks creaked like old ships in squall.

Nana Toki strode in with her Colossal Axe like a thunder god, met those bloodshine eyes, and her mouth curled like a knife-cut smile.

A Giant Dragon? Her heart was wind over calm lake—so-so.

Just then, the Dragon’s eyes flared blood-red like coals fanned, flame surged from its maw like a smithy stoked to kill.

Too late. Nana’s mercy was snow in summer—none. She raised the axe like a guillotine and let it fall like a falling star.

Splat!

[Side Quest: Giant Dragon Subjugation, completed!]

Dragon blood sprayed like crimson rain, spattering Nana Toki from brow to boot like war paint. The beast couldn’t even scream; its head burst like an overripe gourd.

Sssk!

She wrenched the axe from the skull like a fisherman freeing a hook, blood dripped in sheets like thawing ice from the blade.

Nana stared at the corpse, drifting like a leaf in eddying thought. This Giant Dragon felt weak, like a storm that died before dawn.

She wiped her cheek, sticky as syrup, the iron-sweet stink sharp as a forge. Ling’er Long said a single Giant Dragon equals six Fist Emperors, right?

Why did the two of us wheel-fight it to death like wolves harrying a bull?

System: Hm. Heaven probably made it easy for the Protagonist Lord, fresh out of the newbie village. Like a mini-elite, not a true boss.

So the protagonist really is Heaven’s darling. Nana’s daily sourness rose like vinegar smoke.

She’d prepped so many weapons for this slaying like a hawker laying out wares. Who knew the Dragon would fold like damp paper?

System: ... So many weapons... Host, be honest—how much are you hiding like a squirrel’s hoard?

If I tell you, will you give me a cheat like a divine finger?

The System: I could consider it, like rain considering drought.

Nana Toki: ...

Then forget it. No deal. Her mood snapped like a twig; her lips sealed like a locked coffer.

“So? First time slaying a Dragon—how’s it feel?” Nana walked to Ling’er Long, who was still dazed like a deer in moonlight.

“A bit weak...” Ling’er spoke truth like clear water.

“Because this Dragon wasn’t meant for us to kill.” Nana pointed at Lorin, sprawled on the ground like driftwood: “The slayer should’ve been him.”

“Why?” Ling’er asked, eyes bright as night stars.

“Because he’s the protagonist.” Nana spread her hands like a storyteller under lanterns. “Heaven’s pampered child.”

“Hah...” This woman’s words were mist and riddle, moon behind clouds.

“You’ll get it later.” Nana flashed Ling’er a look like a quick wink, then walked to Lorin and gave him a few lazy kicks like nudges to a dozing dog.

“Quit faking. The Dragon’s dead. Why are you playing corpse on the dirt like a dropped scarecrow?”

“What a drag.” Her tone was vinegar over steel; annoyance wedged like a pebble in her shoe.

“Uh... huh? The Dragon’s dead?” Lorin cracked one eye like a fox, scanned the clearing like a wary rabbit, saw the bloody heap like a hill.

He popped up like toast, staring at Nana. “Your Highness, you really slew the Dragon?”

“If I didn’t slay the Dragon, I’d slay you.” Her words were sharp as frost; her humor was a blade’s edge.

Lorin: ...

“Still, Your Highness, you’re amazing. A mage by trade, but you swing a weapon like a thunder god.” His awe was wide as fields.

He eyed her Black Great Axe like a shrine relic. “Your Highness, you’re actually a berserker, right?”

“I’ll berserk your mother!” Nana’s curse cut like a cracked whip, hot as chili smoke.

Lorin: ... Your Highness, decorum, decorum. His face wilted like damp paper.

System: ... Host, decorum, decorum. Its voice chimed like a teakettle.

Decorum my ass! Nana’s temper flared like wildfire. Look at me—young and dazzling, flower-bloom bright, dew-fresh—where do I look like a knotted muscle berserker?

She almost chopped Lorin in half like firewood, the urge rising like a tide then ebbing like a breath.

She muttered three times—The male lead’s a fool—like beads on a rosary, then let him go like a fish spared from the net.

Mother—whether ruined or not, the male lead’s still an idiot. Her thought drifted like smoke above embers.

“Enough. Dragon’s culled; let’s head back to the village.” Ling’er saw the sun tilt west like a sinking coin and stepped in to smooth things.

Nana wasn’t in a hurry. “We’re checking the cave.” Her voice was cool as shade; her intent was a blade under silk.

“Uh... Your Highness, can’t we just go back?” Lorin’s heart still held Dragon shadows like bats in a cave. “What’s the point in a Dragon’s lair?”

“Because it’s a Dragon’s lair.” Nana shot him a look like a needle flick. “Dragons are greedy by tale. Their nests brim with treasure like ants in sugar.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” The Protagonist Lord’s eyes lit like coins catching sun; greed sparked like flint.

Nana: ... Are male leads in this world all this shameless? Her sigh spilled like lukewarm tea.

They talked it through like traders haggling and chose to enter the lair like explorers stepping into a legend.

Of course, Nana Toki wasn’t after treasure like a magpie. A Dragon that popped up from nowhere wouldn’t have hoards like old kings.

Her true aim was to check the plot’s thread like fingers on silk: whether Jade Ring Long, second princess of the Marl Kingdom, had been dragged here.

The worldline’s laid clear like a map. The male lead’s profile hasn’t collapsed like a tent in wind. Only the heroine remains—Jade Ring Long.

In the original, bandits hit her like wolves at dusk. Now it’s a Giant Dragon—an upgrade like thunder replacing drizzle.

Her character might have cracked like a fired pot. Otherwise she wouldn’t have angered a creature of this tier like poking a sleeping volcano.