While Isolde was still processing the sudden power surge from her Crown of Thorns, a familiar cold voice called out to her from behind.

"Vampire, stop spacing out."

Lilith landed gracefully beside her, Soulreaver still dripping with monster blood. Her silver-white hair swayed gently as she glanced at Isolde with a calm but slightly sharp expression.

"If you keep daydreaming in the middle of battle, you’re going to get yourself killed."

Isolde blinked and quickly refocused.

"...My apologies. I was just... surprised by something."

Lilith didn’t ask further. She simply raised Soulreaver and looked toward the remaining Minotaurs and smaller monsters that were still approaching.

"Then focus. We’re not done yet."

Without another word, Lilith dashed forward with terrifying speed. Her figure became a blur as she weaved between the monsters, Soulreaver singing through the air with every swing. Each strike cut through multiple enemies at once, and her threads moved in perfect synchronization, binding, slicing, and finishing off anything that tried to escape.

She moved like a beautiful reaper on the battlefield, elegant yet merciless. Monsters fell one after another around her, unable to even touch her.

Isolde watched for a second, then shook her head lightly and joined the fight once more.

-------------×--------------

On the ground, Ignis was having the time of her life.

"Solar Flare! Solar Flare! BURN!"

Golden flames erupted from her palms in rapid succession, each blast incinerating another Stone Basilisk. The creatures’ thick stone armor, which had been shrugging off arrows and spears, cracked and melted under the intensity of her dragonfire.

One particularly large Basilisk tried to use its petrifying gaze on her. Ignis felt the magic wash over her, trying to turn her scales to stone. She growled, her Solar Aura flaring in response. The petrification shattered before it could take hold.

"Nice try, you ugly lizard!" she shouted, leaping onto its back.

Her claws dug into the gaps between its stone plates, and she drove her fist down into its skull with a satisfying crunch. The Basilisk convulsed once, then collapsed.

Ignis hopped off, breathing heavily but grinning.

"That’s seven! Who’s next?!"

A Dark Elf warrior nearby stared at her with wide eyes.

"Seven... in less than five minutes..."

Ignis puffed out her chest proudly. "That’s right! I’m a dragon! We’re good at this!"

-------------×--------------

Near the village center, the Elder watched the battle unfold with a heavy heart. His yellow eyes, clouded with age and regret, tracked the movements of Adam’s group as they fought alongside his people.

They were strong. Unbelievably strong. And they were fighting to protect a village that had tried to sacrifice them.

The Elder’s staff trembled in his grip.

"We have been... so blind," he whispered.

Beside him, a young Dark Elf woman clutched a bow with shaking hands. Her eyes were fixed on Azrynn, who was fighting fiercely not far away, her silver hair wild as she shot arrow after arrow.

"Elder... were they telling the truth? About the temple?"

The Elder was silent for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

"I believe so. I have lived long enough to recognize when my ancestors may have... misunderstood. And I have lived long enough to know when to admit it."

He looked up at the sky where Adam’s dragon form circled above them.

"Perhaps the Goddess did not send them as a sacrifice. Perhaps she sent them to open our eyes."

-------------×--------------

Azrynn’s bowstring sang as she released another arrow. It flew straight and true, piercing the eye of a Minotaur that had broken through the defensive line.

The beast roared in pain, stumbling forward a few more steps before collapsing.

Azrynn didn’t stop to celebrate. She was already nocking another arrow, her yellow eyes scanning for the next target.

She had lost count of how many monsters she had killed.

Five? Ten? More?

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop. If she stopped, if she let herself think about what had happened, about how close she had come to dying, about how close her village had come to being destroyed...

Her hands trembled.

She forced them steady.

’No. Focus. Keep fighting. Keep moving. There’s time for guilt later.’

A shadow fell over her.

Azrynn looked up, her heart lurching.

A Minotaur, larger than the others, had broken through the frontline. Its red eyes blazed with fury, and its massive axe was already swinging down toward her head.

She couldn’t dodge. There wasn’t time.

Then—

CLANG.

Lilith appeared in front of her, Soulreaver raised to block the axe. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, dust and sand exploding around them.

"...You should watch your surroundings more carefully, elf," Lilith said, her voice calm despite the force of the blow.

Azrynn stared, speechless.

Lilith’s crimson eyes flicked to her for a moment, then back to the Minotaur.

"Don’t be so careless."

With a flick of her wrist, Lilith pushed the Minotaur’s axe aside. Her threads shot forward, wrapping around the beast’s legs, its arms, its throat. It roared, struggling, but the threads only tightened.

Soulreaver swept up.

The Minotaur’s head separated from its shoulders.

Lilith lowered her sword, her silver hair settling back into place. She didn’t even look at the corpse as it crumpled to the ground.

"...Thank you," Azrynn managed, her voice shaky.

Lilith didn’t turn around.

"Don’t thank me."

Before Azrynn could respond, a shadow fell over both of them. The ground trembled slightly, and the air grew heavy with the weight of a massive presence descending from above.

Lilith’s crimson eyes flicked upward. Her expression softened almost imperceptibly.

Adam landed heavily a few meters away, his massive dragon form casting a long shadow across the blood-soaked ground in the pale moonlight. His silver-veined black scales gleamed faintly in the darkness, still wet with the dark blood of the last Minotaur. His jaws, still dripping with gore, slowly unhinged as he exhaled a cloud of hot, smoke-tinged breath into the cold night air.

He lifted his head, crimson eyes sweeping the area. The surviving monsters were retreating, fleeing back into the rocky canyons and sand dunes.

Adam’s dragon form loomed over the battlefield, his silver-veined black scales glistening under the pale moonlight. He let out a slow, rumbling exhale, smoke curling from his nostrils into the cold night air.

"...With this, everything should be secure," he said, his voice deep and resonant in his dragon form.

But the moment the words left his mouth, a sharp, unnatural cold swept across the battlefield. The temperature dropped so suddenly that the surviving Dark Elves shivered, their breath misting in the air.

Adam’s crimson eyes narrowed.

He turned his massive head toward the rocky canyon entrance where the last of the retreating monsters had disappeared.

From the shadows of the canyon, a new figure emerged.

It was a Minotaur but unlike any they had seen before.

Its body was easily three times the size of the others, towering even above the stone golems the Dark Elves had summoned. Its hide was a deep, ancient bronze, scarred with countless battle wounds that had healed over centuries. Its horns were massive, twisted and cracked, and atop its head rested a broken crown made of jagged bone and darkened metal. The crown was clearly ancient, its edges worn and chipped, yet it radiated an oppressive, heavy aura that pressed against Adam’s senses like a physical weight.

The creature’s eyes were not red like the others. They were a deep, molten gold, glowing with an intelligence that was far beyond a mere beast.

It carried no weapon. Instead, its hands were wrapped in chains, the metal rusted but impossibly thick, dragging across the ground behind it with a heavy, grating sound.

[Ancient Minotaur King – Lv. 80]

[A legendary beast that has survived for centuries, accumulating power and wisdom beyond its kind. Its broken crown is said to be a remnant of an ancient pact, granting it authority over lesser monsters and resistance to mental attacks. Extremely dangerous. Approach with caution.]

Adam’s crimson eyes widened slightly as the system notification appeared in his vision.

"...Level 80," he muttered, his dragon voice rumbling.

The Ancient Minotaur King stopped at the edge of the battlefield. Its molten gold eyes slowly swept across the corpses of its fallen kin. Then, it raised its head and let out a deep, guttural roar that echoed across the entire canyon.

The sound was different from the others. It wasn’t just rage. It was grief.

The surviving monsters that had been retreating stopped. They turned. They began to regroup behind the Minotaur King, their eyes glowing with renewed aggression.

Adam’s massive jaws clenched as he studied the approaching figure.

’This one is different.’