[Curse Weaver: Ryn, so you've decided to fight.]
I nodded silently, drawing my Anti-Magic Sword into my left hand and holding my ordinary blade in my right. In an exhausted yet determined whisper, I replied, "I will."
[Curse Weaver: You can't defeat her—only injure her. When Soul Convergence reaches 30% and she is wounded, open your domain. But not a moment before.]
Driven by self-preservation, I asked inside my mind, What is this Soul Convergence?
[Curse Weaver: Don't ask too many questions. I won't reply again.]
Why? I pressed.
[System Message: User "Curse Weaver" not found.]
Silence followed as the screen faded into nothingness. There was no trace of her left—as if her user name had never even existed in the system. With no one left to guide me, I was completely on my own in this life-or-death battle. The distant roaring of flames from the burning academy echoed in the heavy air.
What the hell? I thought in frustration. She was just messaging me a second ago! Where did she disappear off to like a ghost?
Shaking off the confusion, I dashed toward Nyx, trying to figure out how to inflict a wound on those impenetrable scales.
Nearby, Lysandria began chanting another spell: "Nature Magic: Thorns of Nature!"
Hundreds of thorned, wooden spheres materialized in the air and shot toward the dragon. Yet they bounced off her scales like rubber balls, performing nothing more than minor scratches where they hit.
Meanwhile, the Dungeon Keeper circled behind the dragon, unsheathing a majestic broadsword with a glowing mana stone embedded between its hilt and blade. Swirling his weight behind a strike empowered by a low chant, he struck with brutal force—managing to redden and crack the scales where he hit.
Roaring, the dragon shifted her gaze and lashed out with her massive claw, swatting the Dungeon Keeper into the air.
Pushing my exhausted mana reserves to the limit, I sprinted toward Lysandria as the dragon turned toward her. Lysandria was trapped mid-chant in a long spell. As the dragon unleashed a torrent of dark flame to incinerate her, I lunged forward, slicing directly through the fire spell with my Anti-Magic blade to dispel it. I tried to strike the dragon's hide directly with my normal blade, but the result was absurdly negligible.
With a deafening roar, the dragon manifested a dense mana barrier around us—thicker than a concrete wall.
I knew instantly what she was preparing to do: incinerate everything inside the trap. With Lysandria still trapped in her chant, I grabbed her hand and launched us upward. Channeling a quick wind burst—Aero Blasmia—I cut through the upper dome of the barrier just enough for us to squeeze through. Below us, pitch-black fire erupted inside the sealed dome, hot enough to turn us into toast.
Mid-air, the dragon swiveled and intercepted us. Before she could blast us, the Dungeon Keeper plummeted from above, delivering a devastating punch to her jaw that sent her crashing to the stone floor below.
As Lysandria and I fell, the Dungeon Keeper cast a localized wind burst beneath us—not to launch us back up, but to break our momentum and minimize fall damage. I hit the ground hard, rolling free, feeling a sharp twist of pain in my ankle but it wasn't too much to be care of.
"You both are royalty—why haven't you evacuated?!" the Dungeon Keeper yelled, landing heavily beside us.
Lysandria completed her chant: "Roots of the Fallen Eve!"
Massive wooden tendrils burst from the earth, wrapping tightly around the dragon like chains binding a starved prisoner.
"How many royals died?" Lysandria gasped, clutching her head as a wave of nausea washed over her.
"The students and royals were saved," the Dungeon Keeper replied grimly. "But twenty academy guards and staff have fallen."
"Thank the gods..." Lysandria muttered in relief.
The Dungeon Keeper glanced back at us. "Why didn't you two run?"
"We didn't realize until we got back that Nyx was a dragon," I replied, keeping my fake identity as her brother intact.
The Dungeon Keeper gave a grim chuckle. "If you were terrorists, you'd have a better excuse than that. Just pray this doesn't cause an international crisis."
He turned back to the dragon, who was thrashing against the roots like a trapped bird. But suddenly, instead of fighting the bindings, the dragon opened her maw with a terrifying roar. Lysandria gagged and fell to her knees—the dragon was actively draining and absorbing the mana out of the nature roots!
"Now!" the Dungeon Keeper shouted.
He and I surged forward, aiming for her vital points—the head and heart. We drove our weapons into her chest. My normal sword shattered instantly against her hide, but the Dungeon Keeper's broadsword managed to sink deep into her flesh.
The dragon screeched in pain. Unfolding her massive wings, she launched herself into the sky, ascending toward the clouds like a ruler claiming her throne.
The Dungeon Keeper refused to let go of his sword, clinging to the hilt as he was dragged high into the air. His arms trembled as he dangled hundreds of feet above the ground, waving like a flag in the wind, unable to pull his blade free or safely let go.
Below on the ruined grounds, Lysandria and I stood helpless—unable to cast ranged spells without risking hitting the Dungeon Keeper or making his situation worse.