Larkin dusted his hands off as he finished patching up the angel the best he could, which, in all honesty, wasn't much. "Do you even know what you're doing?" the angel asked, standing up from the cushioned seat of the steamstrider and inspecting the bandages wrapped around his body. Larkin let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, no, I just know the general stuff, ya know?" he replied, his fingers still slightly stained with the angel's blood.
The angel sighed, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. It wasn't as though he was expecting much. With the amount of damage he had suffered, the only way for him to properly recover would be through healing magic. It wasn't as though he could rely on his wings anymore. "Whatever, you did the best you could, and that's all I could ask, I guess," the angel said, rubbing the side of his temple, a slight grimace crossing his face as he felt the lingering soreness.
Larkin rubbed the back of his head, giving a nervous smile before looking down at the floor, a serious expression on his face. "Are Xain and Zee okay?" he asked, his voice tense. The angel glanced down at him before staring away. "Last I saw the kid, he was rushing into the mansion to get the elf. I don't know if they're alive or not," the angel admitted, his voice equally tense.
Larkin let out a sigh, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. "At least you didn't see 'em die. That's a positive I can hold onto," he muttered, his voice low, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. Suddenly, both of them heard something. Something that made their eyes widen, something that made their hair stand on end—a roar that pierced the clouds.
"What the fuck was that!?" Larkin exclaimed in panic, his voice tinged with fear and disbelief. "How should I know!?" The angel exclaimed back, his expression mirroring Larkin's confusion as they both made their way out of the steamstrider and looked towards the mansion.
Larkin's mouth hung open in shock, while the angel was at a loss for words. "By the goddess, what is that?" Larkin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, while the angel struggled to move his mouth to mutter the word "Dragon."
It was a scene that could be described as one of two things: one of, if not the most majestic thing one could see in their lifetime, or one of the most frightening and foreboding things imaginable. Its serpentine body was made of pure hellfire, its scales shimmering with an otherworldly iridescence that danced in shades of crimson, amber, and ebony. Each scale flickered like flames, emanating a scorching heat that distorted the air around it. Its body undulated with an almost hypnotic grace, sinews of molten lava rippling beneath its fiery exterior.
The creature's elongated head was adorned with sharp, obsidian horns that curved back from its temples, framing eyes ablaze with the intensity of infernos. From its gaping maw, tongues of hellfire licked and writhed, casting an ominous glow that bathed its surroundings in a sinister light. Jagged teeth, like obsidian daggers, lined its jaws, ready to rend and tear with merciless ferocity.
As it moved, the air around it shimmered with waves of blistering heat, leaving a trail of scorched air in its wake. Each movement was accompanied by the ominous rumble of distant thunder, as if the very heavens themselves trembled at its presence. The red rain and sky grew erratic, despite not being able to touch the creature; it attempted to douse its bright flames.
Its long, muscular body coiled and unfurled with fluidity and power, reminiscent of a lethal dance born from the depths of the underworld. With each sinuous motion, sparks flew and embers swirled, painting a mesmerizing tapestry of destruction. This creature was a living embodiment of fury and power, a relentless force of destruction that knew no mercy, its very essence forged from the flames of damnation.
**Back to the mansion**
Marcus couldn't comprehend how he had managed to survive what had just occurred. One moment, it looked as if Kazon was about to lose, and then, in the next, something burst out from behind Kazon in a bright light, and the demon of hatred and Marcus's friend disappeared, leaving the hallway completely scorched and burned, with only him and a very tired Kazon remaining.
"What was that?" Marcus asked as he prepared for combat, though he didn't like his odds. "Something that will cause problems for all of us. He doesn't listen to me, after all," Kazon replied with a hollow chuckle before pulling out a single dagger from behind his back, gripping it in his right hand.
"If you summoned that thing," Marcus said, narrowing his eyes and focusing on the demonic knight. "It should go away after your death," he declared firmly, tightening his grip on the Magi-Slayer.
"He will. Now, whether you can kill me or not is in question," Kazon retorted as he grinded his armored foot on the floor, ready to sprint. "It doesn't matter. I have to," Marcus said, determination filling his voice as he enhanced his entire body with 1st stage enhancement: enchaining the existing body.
With the rumble of thunder above them, they both sprinted towards each other, weapons ready to fight a battle where only one could come out alive.
**Back to the front garden**
"Um, can you deal with that, mister Orian, sir?" asked Mincs, her voice polite but tinged with fear. Orian didn't reply, too focused on the literal dragon soaring above the mansion, looking down at them as if they were ants awaiting destruction. Suddenly, they all heard Bilmoth start to laugh. All of them—Orian, Mincs, and Mar—turned to him, tension thick in the air.
"You think this is your victory, don't you?" Orian asked, pointing his saber at him, his voice edged with suspicion. Bilmoth shook his head. "Nope. If anything, this just gave you an opportunity to win." The air around Bilmoth suddenly grew tense, and all of them could feel the shift.
"Which is why I have to kill you all," he said coldly, completely devoid of the playful demeanor he had displayed earlier. Mincs gripped her scales, infusing them with as much mana as possible, while Mar, without hesitation, transformed into his lycan form. Orian clenched his knuckles, preparing to rely on Draven for the third time in a single day.
However, before they could begin to fight for their lives, all of them heard a "Bang," and blood spurted out of Bilmoth's back. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as he turned around to see a man with golden blond hair and scarlet red eyes—a man whose appearance and beauty rivaled those of gods. He held out a demonic hand, its index finger claw growing back.
"You will do no such thing now that I am here, as late as I am," the demon declared calmly, though with a cold anger hidden in its voice, as it finally arrived at the mansion to put an end to it all.