Cass and Windsor embraced passionately, their separation having lasted far too long. For three years, Cass had toiled as the mayor of Stan Town to earn Lord Kevin’s approval, unable to see Windsor, hear her voice, or exchange more than a few letters. Yet, they never forgot each other, their love enduring unyieldingly.
This embrace, long-awaited, warmed their hearts.
Of course, it also crowned the fourth prince with a metaphorical green hat.
The prince’s face contorted with rage. Ye Chui’s mocking words, “Just forgive them,” pushed him over the edge. He roared furiously, “Aaaargh!”
Sweeping his gaze over the adventurers, only a fraction were his men, but most mercenaries, mages, and believers would follow his lead. Unable to contain his fury, he shouted, “Kill them! When we leave, I swear on my royal name, I’ll reward you handsomely. Attack! I want them, that wretched couple, to die in the most miserable way!”
Some adventurers, initially neutral, wavered at his words.
They had thought Ye Chui’s group was excessive, stirring trouble relentlessly, but it proved their strength. In the ruins’ world, they could be useful allies, better not to clash. But now, seeing Cass embrace the prince’s fiancée, and realizing Windsor was with Ye Chui’s group, the truth was clear: they were aiding Cass in stealing the prince’s betrothed.
Good grief, cuckolding a prince was no small matter!
This was beyond reconciliation; cooperation with Ye Chui’s group was impossible.
To avoid complications in the ruins, killing them now seemed the best course.
With this quick judgment, everyone, including Bishop Talbot, assumed attack stances, ready to strike.
None present were weak; many were experts. A combined assault would leave no escape.
Cass and Windsor finally parted, the situation dire, yet they seemed unconcerned with anything else, as if having each other was having the world. Ye Chui, Debbie, Lesha, and Green eyed the others warily, with Gilga standing protectively in front.
An aged voice spoke, “As a lord’s daughter, betrothed, yet consorting with another, Miss Windsor, do you honour your father’s expectations?”
An old swordsman in guard armour stepped forward slowly.
Cass whispered, “He’s the prince’s man, called Black Sword.” Having infiltrated the prince’s ranks, Cass knew his entourage. He added, “He looks ancient, but he’s likely their strongest.”
“President, what do we do?” Green asked Ye Chui nervously.
“What else? We fight!” Ye Chui said, blood pumping.
“Brother, we can’t beat them,” Lesha said worriedly, eyeing Bishop Talbot.
“…Fair point.”
Ye Chui calmed quickly. Indeed, Makenzie, Black Sword, and the poised Bishop Talbot matched Gilga’s strength. Ye Chui’s group’s greatest asset wasn’t Gilga, but today wasn’t Saturday’s discount day, so he couldn’t summon the One-Punch Hero. The odds were grim. He whispered, “We’ll skirmish, then find a chance to escape.”
Black Sword, the old guard, drew his longsword.
He appeared frail, his movements unsteady, yet he exuded a dangerous aura.
He had stayed quiet behind the prince, ignoring earlier events, but seeing Cass and Windsor embrace shifted his expression. Tasked by the emperor to protect the prince and uphold royal dignity, he saw their actions as audacious.
Cass and Windsor dared to cuckold a prince!
Where was the royal honour!?
His sword, black as its name, radiated sharp, terrifying sword aura as his frail form seemed to grow robust.
He struck first.
Gilga’s expression changed, her body turning into a golden blur, vanishing from Ye Chui’s sight. Clang, clang, clang—swords clashed repeatedly, black and golden auras colliding. The two elite swordsmen entangled swiftly, most onlookers catching only fleeting shadows, unable to follow their movements. This was the clash of peak swordsmen.
As their fight began, Makenzie unleashed a powerful spell.
Advanced Ice Attack Spell: [Ice Queen’s Fortress]
The already gloomy sky darkened further, snow falling abruptly in a confined area, enveloping Cass, Windsor, Ye Chui, Debbie, and Green. Cass roared, swinging his greatsword with a gust of wind, but it couldn’t resist the icy blizzard.
Boom, boom, boom—
Massive ice blocks formed, crashing down. Before Ye Chui’s group could escape, ice walls rose around them, a miniature frozen fortress trapping them instantly.
[Ice Queen’s Fortress] was both an attack and binding spell, immobilizing its captives and turning them into ice statues. It was one of Makenzie’s strongest techniques.
“They’re done for,” Makenzie said lightly, flipping his grimoire’s pages, as if dispatching Ye Chui’s group was trivial—a true high mage’s demeanor.
Gilga tried to attack the fortress, but her golden sword aura was blocked by black sword aura. Black Sword kept her occupied, preventing aid.
Makenzie glanced at Gilga, recalling their earlier clash. He’d sensed her power, reminiscent of the legendary golden sword spirit Gilga, vanished for decades, now reappeared. But once Debbie, trapped in the fortress, froze, Gilga would vanish, likely gone from the continent for years.
“A pity I couldn’t fight her fully,” Makenzie sighed, secretly relieved. He wasn’t confident against such a formidable swordswoman.
The prince, seeing the fortress and feeling its bone-chilling cold, imagined the couple enduring icy torment. A twisted grin spread across his face. “President Makenzie, I want their ice statues. I’ll place them apart, forever staring, never together!”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Makenzie replied with a smile.
But then, a terrifying roar echoed—a dragon’s roar.
It came from within the icy fortress.
“What’s that sound?” The crowd was stunned. Most knew magical beasts, recognizing the roar as one, but what beast had such supreme majesty?
They soon found out—
The pale blue fortress began to flicker with black flames. Cracks spread across the ice walls as Makenzie sensed intense heat surging within, melting his ice. With a boom, the fortress shattered, and amid steaming mist, a black-gold dragon spread its wings, soaring upward!
It spewed black flames—black-gold dragon fire.
Makenzie’s ice melted into vapor instantly, no match for the flames.
“Roar!”
The dragon circled above, its majesty indescribable.
“A dragon!? Is that… a Black-Gold Flame Dragon!?”
“By the Demon Emperor’s curse, they summoned the god of magical beasts!”
Exclamations erupted. It was Ye Chui’s first time summoning Dragon Baby outside Stan Town. Dragons, kings of magical beasts, were rare, and summoners capable of calling them were few. The Black-Gold Flame Dragon was among the mightiest!
This dragon might not match its legendary power, but its presence was overwhelming, its unquenchable black flames radiating despair and destruction.
“Roar!”
Dragon Baby locked onto Makenzie, spewing dragon fire.
Makenzie conjured a massive ice wall.
Boom!
The wall shattered, and Makenzie, crying out, rolled backward. His robe was riddled with holes, his hair singed, his appearance utterly disheveled. He stared at the circling dragon in fear and fury.
Then, with a crash, a golden light plummeted. Gilga, struck by Black Sword, hit the ground.
She looked weakened, her golden aura thinning, crouching in exhaustion.
Black Sword, conversely, grew stronger, his aged face seemingly younger, his stooped frame straighter.
“Gilga, are you okay?” Debbie asked urgently, soaked as if from a steam bath—Dragon Baby’s flames had melted the fortress, leaving Ye Chui, Green, and Lesha similarly drenched. Admittedly, the steam sauna felt rather nice…
“His sword aura is strange, devouring mine to fuel his own!” Gilga explained weakly.
Devouring sword aura?
Black Sword approached, his aged voice now youthful. “My sword is cursed, absorbing others’ sword aura and magic for my use. The taste of golden sword aura is exquisite.” He eyed Gilga, relishing. “Come, let me savor more! I’m greedy and won’t stop until your aura is drained…”
“Heh, you said it,” Ye Chui chuckled suddenly.
From his [Storage Space], he pulled out a pile of dragon bloodstones…
