Chapter 567

Chapter 567

“Could that be Draconic Magic?”

“It is.”

Leo gave a firm nod in response to Deuriana’s inquiry.

“Are you doing alright? The intensity of that spell seemed incredible.”

“Because of its immense power, this is a trial.”

“My concern is for Chelsea.”

“Exactly. For what reason did you ensnare Chelsea Rwelyn in an illusion? Was your intention not to give those dragons a stern lesson?”

Lunia chimed in as well, her voice laced with confusion following Deuriana’s remarks.

“Those dragons harbored a quiet disdain for Chelsea.”

A low chuckle escaped Leo’s lips.

“They are about to discover her true worth, and in doing so, realize how short-sighted and prideful their own outlooks were.”

Lunia frowned, clearly unsatisfied by Leo’s explanation.

“I expected you to thoroughly deflate their egos so they wouldn’t act so high and mighty again.”

“That would be my customary approach. However, on this occasion, I believed it wouldn’t hurt to demonstrate to them just how vast the world truly is.”

Despite his reasoning, Lunia’s expression remained troubled.

Observing her discontent, Leo let out a soft click of his tongue.

“You are currently wishing you could just break the noses of those arrogant dragons yourself, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“You are absorbing nothing but Luna’s worst traits.”

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“Did that honestly strike you as praise?”

Ignoring the sarcasm in Leo’s words, Lunia merely offered a strikingly beautiful, bright grin.

‘She is steadily mirroring only the most shameless aspects of Luna.’

With so many admirable qualities to emulate, it was baffling how she managed to adopt only the flawed ones.

“If this troublesome brat manages to break free from the illusion, may I give her a good smack?”

“Lunia, if you persist in acting so maliciously, you are genuinely going to earn yourself a reputation as a rogue elf.”

“What is wrong with my disposition? I possess a genuinely sweet heart, don’t I?”

“I can plainly see that your heart has been ground down into nothing but fine, gritty dust.”

At Deuriana’s retort, a fiery spark ignited in Lunia’s eyes.

“Cast your mind back to our very first encounter, and try to find some understanding in your heart.”

As Leo spoke, all the color drained from Lunia’s face.

“The initial meeting between the Black Rabbit and the Rogue Elf? What exactly occurred? Tell me everything!”

Ar’s eyes beamed with intense curiosity as he pressed for details.

“Stop! Do not utter another syllable!”

Lunia lunged toward Leo, desperately attempting to smother his words.

However, Ar swiftly intercepted and pinned her.

Despite her volatile temperament and formidable magical prowess, Lunia lacked the raw physical might required to break free from Ar’s grasp.

“My Phoenix was originally intended to be bound to Lunia as her eternal companion. Upon discovering that it had somehow formed a pact with me beforehand, she threw a massive tantrum, demanding I surrender it.”

“How incredibly ill-mannered.”

“She even wept bitterly, begging for its return.”

“Those weren’t real tears! I was merely putting on an act!”

Lunia screamed at the top of her lungs.

Ar’s eyes shimmered with amusement.

“Following that, she challenged me to a formal combat, claiming she would demonstrate that she was far more deserving of being Fiora’s true partner…”

“Aaaah! Stop! Shut up!”

Lunia shrieked at an even higher pitch, her visage flushing as vibrant red as her locks.

It had occurred early in her inaugural year.

It remained a deeply mortifying memory from her naive, juvenile past.

Attempting to prove to a legendary figure that she was worthy of the Phoenix’s bond!

Could there possibly be a more degrading memory than this?!

‘And to make matters worse, it had to be revealed to these individuals!’

“You are being far too loud.”

“Gaaaah-!”

“Are you some sort of untamed beast?”

As Deuriana reached out to cover Lunia’s mouth, Lunia snapped her jaws, attempting to bite down on her fingers.

“A duel over the rights to the Phoenix. How amusing!”

Still restraining Lunia, Ar let out a mocking laugh.

‘I will absolutely find a way to wipe this cat’s memory clean!’

Lunia ground her teeth together so hard a sharp screech echoed.

Gwoooooh-!

Suddenly, a thick, dark magical miasma began to ooze from the forms of those trapped within the Nightmare.

The sudden shift drew everyone’s attention directly back to Leo.

“You see, Lunia. To your eyes, it might appear as though I am treating these youngsters with unusual leniency. However, on a psychological level, this approach can be far more grueling.”

Leo’s left eye had shifted to a deep abyss, pouring out a smoke-like trail of dark energy.

“It appears the true trial has commenced.”

‘The Nightmare!’

Ridden’s eyelids flew open in shock.

The reason Lyssinus commanded an almost boundless level of reverence from subsequent generations of dragons was not merely due to her role as the commander of the crusade that preserved existence.

Even as society was reconstructed in the wake of the Age of Calamity, Lyssinus’s profound intellect remained a guiding light.

Though her life ended before the dawning of the new epoch could be fully realized, the restoration of civilization proceeded precisely according to the blueprints Lyssinus had established.

The survivors became the custodians of Lyssinus’s boundless wisdom.

Her incredible foresight proved vital once more following the destruction of Erebos.

It manifested yet again during the dark resurgence of Tartarus.

Throughout the era of Tartarus’s return.

Through sheer might.

As well as strategic maneuvers and tactical progression.

The insights left behind by Lyssinus shielded the realm until the peoples of the world could defend themselves.

In the nascent days of the Age of Heroes.

The champions she handpicked, led by the illustrious Fairy Knight Belkia, successfully anchored a fractured world onto a durable bedrock.

The detailed records Lyssinus preserved, which foretold impending events, were truly indistinguishable from divine revelations.

There existed a singular justification for how such a feat was achieved.

It was born from Lyssinus’s unshakeable conviction that salvation would prevail, even when immersed in absolute hopelessness.

A figure as grand as Lyssinus naturally provided a heritage for her fellow kin as well.

She codified the unique Draconic Magic she invented so that subsequent generations could study and inherit her power.

Ascending to mastery and unlocking that specific magic stood as the pinnacle objective for every student within Wisdom.

The realization that Leo could wield such a craft was staggering. Furthermore, the specific spell Leo invoked was Nightmare, widely recognized as the single most complex art within that lineage.

It was heralded as the ultimate phantasm.

Among all the arts preserved from Lyssinus, its cruelty was uniquely severe.

This was an undeniable reality, given that the foundation of Nightmare originated from a malevolent hex utilized by the fiends of Tartarus.

“Ridden?!”

A sudden voice calling from behind caused Ridden to jolt in alarm.

Ciren was positioned just a short distance away.

Upon identifying Ciren, Ridden instantly shifted into a defensive stance.

The Nightmare was an illusory realm designed to force a victim into combat with the precise entity they dreaded facing most.

Consequently, any figure materializing in this space was almost guaranteed to be a hostile manifestation.

Ciren harbored the same suspicion, yet as the pair stared at one another, a mutual wave of bewilderment washed over them.

“This is bizarre. The opponent I dread fighting above all others shouldn’t be someone like you, Ridden.”

“Is that so? I feel exactly the same way. It makes no sense.”

“Ridden? Ciren?”

“What is happening here?”

In that exact moment, two additional Wisdom pupils, Feldir and Mid-a, materialized nearby.

“Does this imply we have been pulled into an identical, shared illusion?”

Ridden’s features twisted in utter astonishment.

“How could such a thing be feasible? Nightmare is an incantation engineered to reflect a singular person’s internal psyche. Even if cast over an expansive territory, it ought to force each person to contend with their private fears, shouldn’t it?”

As Ciren shook his head in disbelief, Feldir spoke up, his expression darkening with gravity.

“Could he have somehow altered the core formula of the spell?”

“That is utterly inconceivable. For five millennia, countless scholars have attempted to re-evaluate Lady Lyssinus’s magical systems, and not a single soul has ever accomplished it, have they?”

Mid-a could only offer a deeply troubled and anxious look.

Thump- thump-

The distinct sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the pitch-black, barren void.

“Chelsea Rwelyn, is that you out there?”

Recalling Chelsea, who had been pulled into the illusion alongside them, Ridden called out blindly into the murky darkness.

“I am afraid your assumption is incorrect.”

A pristine, melodic voice resonated from the depths of the shadows.

Thump- thump-

The pupils of the dragons dilated in sheer terror as the figure finally stepped out from the obscurity.

Whoooosh-!

A phantom breeze swept through, causing her glossy, dark locks to ripple gently.

An extraordinarily striking woman, calmly arranging her hair and brushing it back with a delicate motion, fixed her gaze upon the gathered dragons.

Ciren’s eyes bulged in pure, unadulterated shock.

“Lady Lyssinus?”

“You recognize my identity well, you defectors of our lineage.”

“Ah…”

The instant Ciren registered Lyssinus’s chilly words, every ounce of color vanished from his skin.

He was far from the only one paralyzed by fear.

“This… this cannot be real.”

“W-without a doubt, Lady Lyssinus represents the ultimate figure a dragon would wish to avoid confronting, but still…!”

“We have never once gazed upon Lady Lyssinus in our entire existences!”

The truly horrifying nature of Nightmare lies in its capacity to construct the exact adversary one wishes to avoid fighting most, regardless of who that entity might be.

To put it another way, the greater an individual’s innate strength, the more terrifying the illusion becomes.

Yet, a specific limitation existed.

The entities capable of manifesting within the phantom realm were typically restricted to individuals the victim had actively encountered in life.

Yet, against all established rules, Lyssinus stood before them.

The students of Wisdom were instantly gripped by a frantic panic.

“Hold on, this iteration of Nightmare is unnatural! This must be a completely different spell designed to mimic Nightmare—”

Flash-!

Attempting to steady her erratic breathing, Mid-a spoke out with immense urgency.

In that fleeting second, a blinding ray of light erupted, cleanly skewering Mid-a through the midsection.

“Huh?”

Gulp-!

Completely unable to process what had just occurred, Mid-a coughed up a torrent of crimson fluid and collapsed limply to the ground.

Thud-!

“That accounts for one, to begin with.”

Lyssinus’s vacant, unfeeling gaze shifted toward the remaining Wisdom pupils.

Beholding that icy glare, Ridden was instantly reminded of the manner in which Leo had deployed the Draconic Magic.

The countenances of the remaining dragons were entirely consumed by raw dread.

“Everyone… flee!”

The moment Ridden’s desperate scream rang out, Ciren and Feldir bolted in opposite directions.

Hoisting the incapacitated Mid-a onto his shoulders, Ridden sprinted blindly forward into the oppressive blackness.

“Faced with an insurmountable disparity in sheer capability, retreating is not an entirely foolish decision,”

Lyssinus remarked, her expression remaining entirely flat and devoid of warmth.

“However, a distinct line separates a desperate flight driven by pure panic from a strategic retreat meant to secure a future victory.”

Lyssinus’s sharp gaze cut cleanly through the dense shadows.

“In your particular case, it is glaringly obvious you belong to the former category.”

Ridden’s teeth chattered violently without pause.

‘That cannot possibly be the genuine Lady Lyssinus! It is nothing more than a phantom!’

Had they been facing the actual Lyssinus, escaping would have been an impossibility, and they would have been wiped out instantly where they stood.

Yet, even knowing it was a mere fabrication, it remained an absolute titan far beyond their capacity to oppose.

Ridden cast a panicked glance at his unconscious companion draped over his shoulder, locking his jaw tightly.

‘I must keep moving! I have to escape!’

Any semblance of a rational strategy to extricate himself from this nightmare had entirely evaporated from his mind.

He was completely submerged in a bottomless ocean of hopelessness.

Right at that moment.

Thud-! Thud-!

Ciren and Feldir crashed heavily onto the ground directly in front of Ridden’s path.

Ridden’s expression froze in horror.

“The game of cat and mouse has concluded.”

Lyssinus stepped smoothly out from the surrounding void, her visage remaining entirely blank.

Ridden’s jaw clicked erratically from the sheer force of his trembling.

Mustering his remaining focus, he attempted to gather his companions using a localized magical spell.

Observing his desperate actions, a faint, cold smirk tugged at the corner of Lyssinus’s lips.

To Ridden, that small movement felt like an act of supreme mockery.

A sneer directed at a fool desperately clinging to allies who had already perished.

Even so, Ridden found himself utterly incapable of discarding his comrades, regardless of whether they were merely lifeless shells.

‘I need to break free… somehow, I must find a way out of here…!’

The realization that this entire scenario was merely an evaluation had completely slipped from his mind.

For within the confines of Nightmare, perishing meant absolute, permanent demise.

His features distorted by absolute terror, Ridden took a fragile, shaking step backward, while Lyssinus steadily decreased the distance separating them.

Whoooosh-!

A sudden, sharp gust tore through the stillness.

Kwa-ga-ga-ga-gak-!

An incredibly violent torrent of slicing wind erupted, slamming directly into Lyssinus’s position.

Ridden’s eyes went wide with shock.

Before him stood the distinct silhouette of Chelsea, who had somehow arrived in the nick of time.

“Chelsea… Rwelyn!”

“Move quickly! Get your comrades to a secure area and begin treating their wounds!”

“What did you say?”

“Your friends are still breathing!”

Stunned by Chelsea’s exclamation, Ridden immediately checked the vital signs of his fallen peers.

It was precisely as she stated.

The strikes had miraculously missed their vital organs, preserving them from immediate expiration.

Naturally, despite clinging to life, the reality remained that they had sustained catastrophically severe trauma.

Nevertheless, the robust inherent vitality of their draconic heritages was barely keeping the three souls anchored to existence.

“Go, now!”

“But what about you?”

“I will find a way to contain her!”

“You cannot possibly face her by yourself!”

“You are correct! Were this the genuine Lady Lyssinus, it would be an impossible task!”

A fierce spark ignited within Chelsea’s eyes.

“However, this adversary is nothing but an imitation!”

“And yet, do I not feel entirely real to you?”

“Hardly! You are far more hideous than the official portraits of Lady Lyssinus I have studied! Therefore, you are a complete fraud!”

Lyssinus’s brow twitched noticeably at the insult.

A moment later, the corners of her mouth curved upward into a cold smile.

“What an incredibly insolent and disrespectful young woman.”

Simultaneously with her utterance, a colossal, suffocating pressure of raw magical energy began to cascade violently from Lyssinus’s frame.

Witnessing the sheer scale of the power, Chelsea felt a sudden pang of internal regret.

‘Perhaps mocking her appearance wasn’t the wisest choice?’