The voices coming from behind her made Cessilia lose her focus. She glanced back, annoyed to see more Yekara soldiers had made it all the way up to this room. She could already barely hold Yebekh at a distance!

“Ah!” shouted Yebekh. “See, a brat like you is no leader! You can’t do anything if you’re alone...”

Cessilia’s green eyes suddenly went back to him, glowing with anger.

“Who said I was alone?”

A furious dragon growl resonated above their heads. It was louder than the thunder, like a deafening echo in the skies above, surrounding the tower. Glimpses of flying silver scales flew by the windows like lightning bolts in the darkness. A smile appeared on Cessilia’s lips. The Yekara men were already staring toward the ceiling, looking afraid and unsure of what to expect. They probably hadn’t seen the giant Silver Dragon yet, and now they were in the front row seats. Shortly after, the whole tower began to shake. A lot. Groaning and grimacing, Ashen forced himself to sit up, and using his arm, slowly retreated until he was leaning his upper body against Cessilia’s leg.

“...A friend?” he asked, looking up with a worried expression.

“I think she missed you more than I thought,” chuckled Cessilia.

Another dragon growl resonated, higher-pitched. After more shaking, the tower stopped moving. It was only a second before the roof was suddenly torn off. It happened so violently and quickly, it looked as if it had simply been popped up, the whole ceiling disappearing in one go. The roof was literally sent flying god knows where, while stones from the top of the torn walls were falling down the sides, in or out of the room. The tower itself trembled again, and a gigantic dragon’s face appeared above them. Ashen gasped.

“That can’t be... Cece!” he exclaimed, a baffled expression stuck on his face.

The Silver Dragon answered with a gentle growl, before turning its large ruby eyes toward the Yekara soldiers that had just appeared. Raising their spears and swords, the men were suddenly not so sure about attacking anymore. Cece let out that strange scream, and most of them took a step back, unsure.

“Good girl,” chuckled Ashen, clearly the only man happy to see the dragon.

Luckily, the tower they were in was much bigger than the one Jinn had destroyed, and a bit sturdier. As Cece suddenly put a gigantic paw on the ground, the floor squeaked dangerously, but it held well under the pressure. The dragon’s head was right above the half-torn wall, and Cessilia guessed her dragon was probably supporting itself against the whole tower. Cece was way too big to get inside, but the dragon would still make a trustworthy support against more enemies... Meanwhile, Ashen was still visibly in awe. He leaned against the silver-scaled paw.

“Damn, you’re so big now... I missed you too, pretty girl.”

Cece must have enjoyed the compliment, because he received a gentle growl and slight nudge in response.

“Ashen, you shouldn’t move too much...”

Just as she said that, Cessilia watched him fight against his own body to get back up, although he immediately leaned against Cece’s head, patting the dragon’s snout. A happy Cece let out a gentle, soft growl.

“No way,” he grimaced. “I’m done napping, I just needed a minute to catch up... I can’t just stay still when we’ve got company, can I?”

One of the Yekara soldiers, braver than the others, suddenly decided to attack despite the dragon. With a yell, he ran forward with his sword.

Ashen only raised his leg with the right timing for the man to brutally run chest-first into his foot, losing his breath, and stumble back. The King moved immediately to grab his spear from him, swinging the weapon around. He made a circular motion with it, stabbing the soldier’s shoulder, and threw him right into Cece’s mouth. The dragon who had opened its mouth in a timely manner immediately closed it, chewing with a satisfied expression.

“See?” smiled Ashen, his eyes on the men. “I’ll handle it just fine.”

Cessilia was still worried, not about his skill, but by the fact that he needed to lean against her dragon to be capable of standing. She knew Cece had also probably come back because of her own worry for Ashen. Her dragon was naturally responding to her true feelings... However, Cessilia had resolved to not doubt him anymore, and she knew that Cece wouldn’t allow anyone to injure him either. Right now, those soldiers were her lesser concern. She had to finish this fight, and for that, she had to get rid of the main enemy, Lord Yebekh.

The hateful man was still standing on the opposite side of the tower, his shocked eyes still on the dragon. Then, he shifted to Ashen, a grin appearing on his lips.

“This foolish man is only hurrying his demise. He might be acting like a tough fighter, but the poison will kill him anyway...”

“I won’t let that happen,” retorted Cessilia.

She didn’t have a single minute more to lose with empty talking and threats. She ran toward Yebekh, swinging her sword with more resolve than ever. She knew she could finish this fight, she just had to find the right timing.

Strangely, Cessilia was having flashbacks of her training days while wielding her sword against Lord Yebekh. Her full attention was on this fight, but while facing one of the few people in this world who is actually on the same level as one of the War God’s children, she couldn’t help but remember her days in the North Army Camp. Their father had never let them rely on their strength alone. She had already fought against men bigger than she was, twice more experienced, or with the most dangerous weapon. Every time, her own strength hadn’t been enough to simply win. There was no battle won with only speed, strength, or technique. Cessilia knew she should never underestimate anyone, and she wasn’t letting Yebekh’s vicious attacks get to her. She was standing her ground, offering him a real duel, not withholding her attacks, and not showing any gaps in her defense either. Her movements were precise, perfect. It was as if she was literally dancing around the room, trying to get the upper hand of this fight. It wasn’t just about wielding a sword bigger than herself; Cessilia was using her whole body in each attack, all of her strength and focus.

Yebekh was sweating and getting frustrated. Although he did think that woman could potentially give him a challenge, he was a man drunk on over thirty years of experience. Unlike Cessilia, he wasn’t humble enough to realize a girl twice younger could possibly push him past his limits. Cessilia was his daughter’s age, but making him sweat and tremble like he was back in his training days. No, in fact, he was slowly realizing how terrifying this woman was. No woman this young should have this much potential. She wasn’t fighting like a young maiden with a bit of good training, she was fighting like an experienced swordmaster, and making him feel like a student!

The sword fight between the two was turning into one of the best duels that could ever be witnessed. They were both incredibly fast, violent, and relentless. Even the Yekara soldiers and Ashen couldn’t help but glance to the side several times, as if mesmerized by the superb choreography going on across the room. It was almost as if the two of them had rehearsed this beforehand, offering a ballet of blood and death. Each attack was potentially deadly, and only avoided by a hair, or blocked with equally impressive strength. Their movements were even hard for the naked eye to keep up with, as they only froze for seconds when their swords clashed, pressed against each other, and neither won, so they parted with a promise to try and kill each other again. They barely caught any breaks, and waited until they were steps away from each other, as if the short breaks had to be mutually agreed on.

Only the most experienced soldiers could tell Cessilia was starting to get the upper hand in this battle. The Princess was tired too, her body covered in sweat and blood, but she wasn’t willing to stop at all. She was also doing an impressive job of keeping Yebekh cornered where she wanted him to be, as if she was making the rules and choosing the physical limits of their fight. No one would have dared to intrude, anyway. The soldiers were almost happy to face the King and the dragon rather than this woman that seemed possessed by death itself. She was like a goddess of war, as beautiful as she was scary, and unpacifiable. Foolish was the one who ever dared to take a single step in her path. Yebekh himself was barely surviving. The man was sweating twice as much as Cessilia, visibly out of breath, his limbs beginning to shake from the overexertion.

The fight had insidiously shifted into more of a mental battle between the two. Physically, they were probably capable of remaining on an equal level, but psychologically, Cessilia was starting to make the man lose his ground. It was down to which one of them would admit defeat first, and Yebekh was slowly pushing past his own limits. He refused to admit how scary that woman was, while his whole body was about to beg for mercy. It was one leap he refused to take. He refused to be scared of her, but Cessilia was starting to grow into this furious, scary creature standing before him. The dragon that manifested in her furious movements, glowing green eyes, and powerful attacks was growing scarier every second. It was as if the more they fought, the more he discovered the dangerous beast behind the gentlewoman. The more he pushed her, the more powerful she became, and soon, she’d devour him whole. He couldn’t understand. When? When did this foolish, weak, and stuttering woman grow into this fearsome monster? How could he lose? He, who had fought so long and so hard to get here? He had trained, relentlessly, day and night for years, only to be bested by a child? He just couldn’t understand. No, he refused to admit he had already lost.

Stumbling back, exhausted, scared, defeated, the man began to lose his grip on his weapon. His brain was screaming he had to run, to flee this place, far from those green eyes. He stumbled again and fell down, his eyes opened wide in horror. Cessilia knew she had won already. She slowly lowered her sword, pointing it toward his chest, and walked toward him. The man retreated, desperate, and suddenly, his hand touched something liquid and warm. Blood. He finally looked around, realizing he was in the middle of his own men’s bodies. They were all dead, or dying with a limb or two torn off. The man gasped, as if he was horrified for the very first time by all the deaths he had caused.

His terrified eyes went back to Cessilia. He could almost see it. Behind that girl, the shadow of a warrior, that dark aura that belonged to the real monster, the War God who had forged his daughter into a being as terrifying as himself. Yebekh could see it now. That child wasn’t enhanced by her dragon blood, but by the teachings of the best fighter of all. The one who had earned his title of War God. Who was he, a mere mortal, to think he could ever stand a chance against that...?

“P-p-please,” he begged, completely out of it. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll stop. I-I’m sorry. ...I-I beg you...”

To his surprise, Cessilia actually stopped walking. Her green eyes weren’t betraying anything, and for a fateful second, he really thought he could beg for his life to be spared. That was it. She was still a woman, a young child who could be begged, convinced, swayed. She had to have some pity for the weak, some mercy. If he could convince her to let him go, then he’d be able to survive this, and then–

A large hand suddenly covered his vision. He felt himself being brutally pulled backwards, and his back violently hit the cold metal of armor.

“You don’t deserve to be spared, you bastard,” whispered a voice next to his ear. “You’ve got to pay for all the lives you sacrificed.”

Ashen put the blade against his neck, and mercilessly sliced his throat. Yebekh only made one throaty sound, and fell forward, his face in his men’s blood, his eyes still wide open. He was dead.

Cessilia let out a long sigh.

“...It’s over,” she muttered.

Ashen nodded, but right after, he grimaced and fell backwards. Cece moved immediately, and he landed gently against the dragon’s snout with a grunt.

“Damn it.”

Cessilia ran to his side, checking on him.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m feeling great,” he lied. “I would have taken him, but... I figured you should have the fun. Oh, fucking poison...”

“It’s alright. Just lie down... No, actually, let’s get on Cece and take you to the Hashat Family, they’ll have what you need. You did well,” she added with a gentle kiss against his cheek.

“Thanks... We’ll just pretend that’s true when your cousin’s around, please? I don’t mind my Queen saving the day, but I know she’s going to give me hell for just lying there and my ego can only take so much bruising at once...”

“Ashen, stop talking. Just get on.”

The truth was, Cessilia knew he was already in a bad condition when they had gotten here. It was impressive he had managed so well and won against dozens of men when most wouldn’t even have been able to get up... Even with the dose of poison he had received, she thought he was still surprisingly fine. He could barely stand, and his complexion wasn’t too good, but she had really feared for his life all along.

Even now, he was still standing and gently pushed her hand away when she was trying to have him get on the Silver Dragon.

“No,” he said. “We have to stop the fights first.”