Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 783: Albedo vs Kali

The next impact wasn't explosive.

It was worse.

The space around her simply folded.

When Albedo advanced, there was no linear displacement. She twisted reality around Kali as if the training field were made of fabric, not stone. The ground beneath the dragon's feet shifted a few centimeters to the left—not enough to knock her down, but enough to break the instinctive rhythm of someone who had always trusted in the absolute solidity of the world.

Kali laughed.

Not mockingly.

With pure enthusiasm.

She twisted her body the instant she perceived the alteration, adapting mid-movement, and responded with a downward elbow charged with draconic force. The blow wasn't aimed directly at Albedo—it was aimed at the space where she should have been.

But Albedo was no longer there.

She reappeared above, wings spread in a wide arc, and for a single second the world seemed to pause. Demonic mana condensed into geometric patterns around her, distorting the light, creating an uncomfortable sense of wrong depth—like looking into a mirror reflecting an impossible angle.

She descended.

Not with brute force.

But with pressure.

The air grew heavy.

Kali felt it before she saw it—a sudden weight on her shoulders, as if reality itself were trying to push her down. The ground beneath her feet cracked, fissures spreading in irregular circles.

She growled, planted her feet firmly on the ground, and responded in the only way a true dragon knew how.

Releasing more.

Scales sprouted in greater numbers along her arms and back, the heat around her rose abruptly, and the draconic aura exploded in visible waves, distorting the air like an incandescent mirage. The weight Albedo imposed was forcibly torn apart, shattered by sheer existential dominance. The two collided in mid-air.

There was no flash.

There was a brutal impact.

The shock launched a wave of pressure that swept across the training field, knocking down stakes, hurling still-conscious soldiers away like rag dolls. Frieren immediately raised an instinctive barrier, her hair being pulled by the violent wind. Agnes planted her feet on the ground, eyes narrowed, absorbing every detail with almost scientific attention.

Albedo spun on impact, using the force of the shock itself to reposition herself, appearing behind Kali in a flash. She tried to grab the dragoness's arm—not to break it, but to redirect it.

Kali let go.

On purpose.

The instant Albedo touched her, Kali twisted her torso and pulled with absurd violence, using the demon's own movement against her. The air crackled as Albedo was thrown sideways, crashing through three stone pillars as if they were made of clay.

Before she could stabilize herself, Kali was already airborne again.

She wasn't flying.

She was launching herself.

Each wingbeat was a blow against the world, creating craters where it touched the ground, propelling itself like a living missile. The fist came in a downward arc, charged with enough heat and impact to vaporize solid rock.

Albedo spread her wings fully.

The space around the blow distorted abruptly, creating an impossible angular deviation. Kali's fist pierced a spatial fold and emerged meters to the right, smashing the ground with absurd violence—while Albedo appeared above her shoulder, his face tense, focused, teeth clenched not from anger, but from extreme effort.

She reached out her hand.

Space compressed.

Kali felt as if she were being squeezed from the inside, the pressure coming from all sides at once. For the first time since the fight began, she let out a real grunt, not of amusement, but of recognition.

"Now we're serious," she murmured.

The ground exploded beneath her feet as she responded with a full-fledged draconic roar.

It wasn't just sound.

It was will.

The aura expanded in a crushing pulse that tore through spatial compression like wet paper. Trees around the field cracked and broke, rocks were pulverized, and a column of dust rose to the heavens.

Albedo was thrown backward, rolling in the air before stabilizing, wings trembling slightly.

She was breathing heavily now.

But she didn't retreat.

She advanced again—this time strategically.

Space began to fragment into layers. Kali realized too late that the entire field was being manipulated, divided into zones of subtle displacement, each altering distance, weight, and trajectory almost imperceptibly. One wrong step, and the body itself reacted differently than expected.

Kali smiled even wider.

"Good," she said. "You learn fast."

She flapped her wings with full force.

The sky responded.

The clouds above began to swirl, pulled by the pressure and heat, forming an unstable vortex. Lightning flashed at the edges, unleashing raw energy onto the battlefield.

Albedo sensed the danger immediately.

This was no longer a test.

It was too dangerous a scale.

She tried to recalibrate, to reduce the area of ​​influence, but Kali was already beyond that, moving at absurd speed, ignoring spatial distortions by force, tearing her way through with sheer physical supremacy.

They collided again.

And again.

Each impact reshaped the terrain.

Mounds became craters. Craters became shallow abysses. The training field no longer looked like a field—it looked like the result of a small, localized cataclysm.

Strax watched in absolute silence now.

His arms crossed too tightly.

His golden eyes narrowed.

He felt the pressure rising.

Not just physical.

Narrative.

Energetically, this was going from "test" to "event."

Frieren felt it too.

"Strax," she said softly. "This is getting out of control."

Agnes nodded slowly. "If it continues like this… half of Asgard will feel it."

In the field, Kali grabbed Albedo by the arm and spun her violently, trying to throw her to the ground with full force. Albedo reacted at the last instant, distorting the space between them, making her own movement bend—but the effort was immense.

She screamed.

Not from pain.

From tension.

Her aura wavered for a second.

And Kali noticed.

The fist came.

Directly. Without restraint.

Without testing.

The impact would have been devastating.

But it didn't happen.

The world stopped.

It didn't freeze.

It stopped.

The air became heavy as lead, the light seemed to lose saturation, and an overwhelming pressure fell upon everything—not violent, but absolute.

Kali froze mid-movement.

Albedo froze in mid-air.

The sky above ceased its turmoil.

Strax was there.

Between the two.

One hand raised.

His draconic aura didn't explode.

It simply existed.

Dominant.

Final.

"Enough," he said, his voice too calm for what was happening. "This has gone too far."

Kali tried to move.

She couldn't.

Not by force.

Out of instinctive respect.

She growled softly, annoyed, but yielded, taking a step back.

Albedo fell to her knees, panting, wings trembling, her face pale from the extreme effort.

Strax looked from one to the other.

"The test is over," he continued. "You're not in a prepared arena. This is Asgard, not an extermination camp."

He lowered his hand.

The pressure vanished.

The world breathed again.

Kali ran a hand through her hair, still smiling—but now with a satisfied glint in her eyes. "She can take it," she said. "More than I expected."

Albedo took a deep breath, rising slowly. "And you… don't know when to stop."

Kali laughed loudly. "Fair enough."

Strax sighed, weary. "You two will destroy my territory if you continue."

He looked around—the devastated field, the unconscious soldiers, the reshaped landscape.

"…and I just got back."

Frieren closed her eyes, relieved.

Agnes crossed her arms. "Conclusion?"

Strax looked at Albedo.

Then at Kali.

"Conclusion," he said, "is that this will need rules. Lots of rules. And a proper place."

He paused.

"…because if we leave it like this, next time there won't be anything left around."

Kali smiled.

Albedo nodded.

Strax remained for a few seconds staring at the two.

Kali was still smiling, arms crossed, clearly satisfied. Albedo maintained an upright posture despite visible fatigue, wings folded, aura stabilized—not submissive, not aggressive. Just… present.

He sighed.

A long, heavy sigh, one of those that carry the certainty that nothing is ever simple.

Then he turned to Frieren.

"Darling," he said, running a hand over his face, "can you… fix this?"

Frieren looked around.

The training field resembled a battlefield: smoking craters, stones split in half, bent stakes, impact marks everywhere. Unconscious soldiers scattered as if thrown there by a bored child.

She blinked once.

Twice.

"Of course," she replied with the tranquility of someone about to reverse something completely absurd.

She took a few steps forward, raised her hand, and closed her eyes.

Elven mana spread through the air like an ancient sigh.

The air trembled gently.

The stones began to move on their own, returning to their original positions as if time were being pulled back. The craters slowly closed, the ground recomposed itself, cracks disappeared like erased scars. Stakes rose from the ground, straightening themselves. Fragments flew back, fitting together with impossible precision.

It was less like reconstruction…

And more like denial of the damage.

In a few seconds, the courtyard looked new.

Immaculate.

As if the battle had never happened.

Frieren opened her eyes and lowered her hand.

"There," she said simply.

Strax released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Thank you."

Kali whistled softly. "I always forget how convenient you are."

Frieren gave her a dry look. "And I never forget how destructive you are."

Kali laughed.

Strax then turned to Albedo.

She immediately straightened her posture even more, attentive.

"You," he said, pointing slightly, "will stay with Kali for now."

Albedo blinked, surprised. "With… her?"

"Yes," Strax confirmed. "You two will get along. Or you'll try to kill each other. In either case, Kali can handle it."

Kali smiled slightly. "I like that logic."

Albedo hesitated for a moment… then nodded. "I don't object."

"Great," Strax murmured. "One less immediate problem."

He started to turn, clearly ready to leave, when—

"STRAX."

A voice sounded behind him.

Very close.

Too close.

"OH MY GOD, YOU SCARED ME!" Strax yelled, jumping forward and almost activating his draconic aura reflexively.

Behind him was Monica.

Arms crossed.

Absolutely neutral expression.

Awkward silence.

"…seriously?" she asked.

Strax put his hand to his chest. "You appeared OUT OF NOWHERE."

"I always appear out of nowhere."

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT ANY LESS SCARY."

Kali laughed loudly.

Frieren sighed.

Albedo watched the scene with genuine curiosity, tilting his head slightly.

Monica then looked at her.

She assessed her.

From the horns to the wings.

From the controlled aura to the attentive gaze.

"…I understand," she finally said. "So it's her."

Strax cleared his throat. "Yes. New… situation."

"Subordinate?" Monica asked.

"Something like that," he replied. "Complicated."

Monica nodded once, already accepting this as just another unavoidable problem on Strax's endless agenda.

"Do you want me to arrange a place for her?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. "Something stable. Nothing too close to civilians. And—" he glanced quickly at Kali "—nothing that could turn into a battlefield if things go wrong."

Kali flashed a smile too innocent to be taken seriously.

"I'll put her in the intermediate ward," Monica said. "Reinforced rooms. Partial magical isolation. Enough space."

She looked at Albedo again. "Do you know how to follow rules?"

Albedo straightened up. "Yes."

Monica raised an eyebrow. "Short answer. I like that."

Strax sighed again.

"Great. Problem solved. Temporarily."

He started to walk away.

"Strax," Kali called.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Good choice," she said sincerely. "She has control. That's rare."

Albedo lowered his head slightly, almost respectfully.

Strax nodded. "I know."

He sighed, looked up at the sky and simply said, "I'm going to see Rogue, I can't stand being here any longer," he said.