Chapter 19

After leaving the Imperial Palace, Novia went home to grab some things before heading to the arena. It had been about a year and a half since he took Nero as his disciple, and this was the first time she had invited him. So, he accepted, but he declined her offer to personally pick him up.

The sky was clear and bright. Although the afternoon sun shone, a cold wind still whistled. People walking on the stone path would greet the silver-haired youth as he passed, and Novia, as always, returned their greetings with a smile.

The Roman Colosseum was located on the outskirts of Rome, facing the sea.

The massive stadium exuded a strong presence, making the surrounding buildings appear much smaller in comparison. Arches as tall as buildings, stacked three or four layers high, formed thick, oval walls, enclosing the spacious arena within.

This space was created purely for humans to compete against each other. In ancient Roman times, this "entertainment" was a legitimate right granted to citizens. Ancient Roman poets even spoke of it as "bread and circuses," with the Roman Colosseum being its most representative symbol.

Theoretically, the Roman crowds attending the matches should have been immense. In Novia's memory, whenever there were similar events in recent years, the Roman Colosseum was always packed. Even with several entrances, each one would have long queues, with people crammed together.

For some reason, it was as if he had booked the entire place. It was just him, or rather, Nero had booked it just for him.

As soon as Novia sat in his designated seat, the music volume in the arena suddenly increased, playing a stirring melody.

It seemed to have started precisely to coincide with his arrival.

Soon, the music abruptly quieted. As the arena fell silent, a small figure walked onto the extended stage reaching forward, bowed to the sole audience member, and Nero's voice rang out.

"Today's event is presented by me, the Charioteer rivaling the Sun God, the Artist rivaling the Music God Apollo."

"In the past, Gladiator duels held in the arena were ceremonies dedicated to the Roman Gods, but I belong to the Lord, Christianity."

Her words, amplified to an enormous volume, echoed throughout the entire Colosseum. If there had been any other spectators besides Novia, they would have likely responded with thunderous cheers, as if to express their anticipation. However, the silver-haired youth simply smiled and lightly clapped his hands.

"Now, today, I will imitate the renowned feat of the great Heracles and offer it to my teacher who baptized me, Novia—"

As the girl spoke, she revealed a slightly ferocious smile in the sunlight. Then, Nero, dressed in an outfit called 'Crimson Noble,' snapped her fingers, and the sound of a large cage door being pulled open was heard.

"The Lion's Naked Chokehold."

030: The Primal Fire Thou Gavest Me

Compared to the more ancient gladiatorial combat, ancient Roman beast fighting had a shorter history, only being accepted by the Romans around the 2nd century BCE.

Gladiators rarely, if ever, fought wild beasts, as it was detrimental to their status. Beast fighting was carried out by professional Beast Fighters. In ancient Rome, Beast Fighters and Gladiators were two completely different professions.

Without professional training, the spectacle and importance of beast fighting were far inferior to gladiatorial combat, merely considered a regular "sport." During beast fights, it wasn't just Beast Fighters battling animals to the death; Romans would also pit various ferocious beasts against each other. The scenes were exceptionally bloody, but the ancient Romans loved it.

Generally, ancient Roman politicians or emperors would go to any lengths to please the populace, making the scale of beast fights larger and larger... It was rare for someone like Nero to offer such a spectacle to just one person.

"Roar!"

The lion, starved for several days, immediately opened its gaping maw once freed from its restraints. Its sharp fangs glinted in the sunlight as it let out a deafening roar and lunged at the golden-haired girl.

Nero took a shallow breath, clenched her fists, and prepared to fight.

After all, she had no intention of using magic, relying solely on her physical prowess.

As the lion leaped, the girl swiftly dodged to the side, skillfully evading its first attack. She then swung a fist, smashing it hard into the lion's head. Her fist grazed the lion's mane, making a "swish-swish" sound.

The lion, struck, let out a pained roar but did not retreat. Nero pressed her advantage, striking with both fists, making the lion stagger with each blow.

Her fists hit the lion's body like hammers, but the wobbling lion was not to be outdone. It attempted to counter the girl with its sharp claws and teeth, but unfortunately, it was too late.

The golden-haired girl's left arm was already wrapped around the lion's jaw in a V-shape and tightened. Following that, her right arm was placed across the back of the lion's head. She then gripped the joint of her left arm from underneath with her right hand and pushed forward with her right palm against the back of its head, arching her body to apply the chokehold.

As Nero's arms, infused with her full strength, met the lion's throat, they directly cut off blood flow to its brain, causing the lion to go into shock.

As time passed, with a dull thud, the lion's powerful body seemed to be instantly crushed by an invisible force. A cracking sound emanated from its throat – the sound of bone being ground to dust, clear and chilling.

Seeing that she had completed the naked chokehold, Nero casually tossed the lion aside as if it were trash.

At this moment, she was filled with a sense of reality. She deeply cherished this kind of situation, where she could be in control at any moment and face mortal danger, because it allowed her to demonstrate her worth.

The lion traced a short arc through the air before beginning its descent in a suffocating slow motion. Its golden mane trembled in the sunlight, each strand seeming to whisper of defiance and despair.

The lion's limbs flailed weakly a few times, as if trying to grasp onto the last sliver of hope for survival, but eventually, they hung limply.

When the lion's body made contact with the ground, it kicked up a cloud of dust. Its chest heaved several times before gradually calming down.

The lion's eyes remained open, but they had lost their former luster, replaced by an endless emptiness and bewilderment.

"How was it?" Nero asked, her eyes crinkling with genuine delight. The beast's blood splattered on her face, giving her a somewhat wild look. "My teacher, did I do well?"

"Very good."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Is it really true?"

"Yes, without a doubt. Your chokehold on the lion was beautiful, and you performed it only for me. I am immensely pleased."

The girl's smile deepened with their exchange.

"That's wonderful then!"

Nero nodded slightly, her hair swaying. She could feel her expression becoming brighter and brighter, as if with each answer, her body became lighter, almost floating upwards.

Novia also smiled slightly in response. In his gaze and words, the girl felt no hint of falsehood.

Speaking of which, the golden-haired girl's current demeanor was consistent with the personality of Type-Moon's Nero from his memory: outgoing, eloquent, fond of extravagance and luxury, prone to self-expression, and in governance, treating the people as her own children, holding a certain disdain for the Senate's authority.

Whether the girl's current feelings stemmed from a master-disciple bond or a nascent romantic affection, this doubt did not stir even the slightest ripple within him. Regardless of the reason, as long as she could be kept in check.

Novia wouldn't delve into her considerations, feelings, or thoughts behind all this.

He simply accepted the purest part of it and responded with a smile to the blonde girl, who spoke to him with the pride of someone of her age for all that she had accomplished up to that point.

The next moment, Novia stood on the platform and handed Nero something he had prepared.

"This is...?"

Nero examined the thing Novia gave her, which was predominantly red and black and appeared to be a 'sword', with great confusion.

"This is a weapon I crafted specifically for you," Novia said with an unwavering smile. "The stones that fell to the ground a few months ago, the mages of Rome called them Tears of the Star. Because they are not things of this star, they are also unknown fragments of hope from the traveler's star. In any case, I have forged them into a weapon. I hope you like it."

"Is this a gift I received because I have accomplished everything you, my teacher, are proud of, and therefore proven my worth to you?"

The blonde girl's bright eyes gazed at him steadily as she raised one hand.

"You don't need to be so humble," he replied with a brilliant and gentle smile. "From the day I baptized you, I should have taken on this obligation. I'm not just saying that to comfort you."

"Nero."

He then softly called the girl's name.

If a few smiles and words could put Nero at ease, Novia would not hesitate.

"...What's its name?" Nero said, puffing out her cheeks petulantly and pouting. "What do you call this sword?"

"Perhaps you can name it yourself."

"I want you to name it."

The girl said, her eyes fixed on Novia, her voice full of anticipation.

"Then, let's call it Primal Fire."

"Primal Fire..."

Saying this, the girl lifted the sword in her hand to her chest, her slender fingertips slowly stroking it.

"This is... the connection between you and me, Teacher... right?"

She whispered.

In the days that followed, nothing particularly spectacular happened. Nero, however, frequently organized large-scale competitions in her own name to gain the people's attention and win their support and loyalty.

Meanwhile, Novia, besides his usual public relations and assisting with governmental affairs, was quietly awaiting news from Shiyali in Britain.

Finally, the year had passed, and the purple-haired girl sent word from Britain as promised.

031: The Human, The Strongest Dragon is Truly Angry!

When Novia arrived underground near Londinium in Britain, the first thing he saw was darkness.

The air was filled with powerful magic, so dense that it could wither the surrounding land if one was even slightly careless. Moreover, the density of the magic was increasing.

But this space was not entirely dark. The four corners of the mage's workshop were lit by flames fueled by magic, casting a dim, overall atmosphere. Wisps of smoke rose from the light sources with the flickering flames, appearing the same regardless of distance. Alchemist's Aether Lines filled the entire space.

And in the depths of these lines, at the secret place where the Aether Lines converged, the head of the Dragon of Albion was being transformed into a blue-black 'spear' in a state that had completely altered its existence.

Before it stood a purple-haired girl, Shiyali.

She wore the Atlas Institute uniform and stared at the numerous Aether Lines inserted into the dragon's head, her body completely still. Her breathing was so faint that she might have been mistaken for dead.

As the Aether Lines tightened, she herself would tremble slightly.

Before Novia arrived, Lucius had told him that Shiyali had dedicated almost all her time over the past year to this Dragon of Albion, focusing on it every day except for sleeping and eating.

Although the purple-haired girl would never speak of her hardships over the year, Novia understood it clearly. Just looking at the sweat on her cheeks was enough to realize how exhausting this must have been.

After all, this was the Dragon of Albion. Even as a corpse, its body was still overflowing with magic. It had parts resembling snakes, reptiles, and bats, as well as sturdy limbs with scales as thick as armor. In appearance, it resembled the 'dragons' that appeared in legends across the world.

Dragons.

They were creatures that humans could never contend with. Only heroes had a chance to slay them; the weapons of non-heroes could not harm them in the slightest. They were the most powerful monsters on the face of the earth, absolute fantasies, possessing a power that could be a great threat to heroes who protected the world.

In the world of mages, the new generally could not defeat the old. This was because the ancient fantasies were even connected to the divine, transforming into mystery over the long passage of time.

What's more, this was a dragon in the truest sense, not a 'dragon' that appeared due to the influence of dragon factors lingering on the surface after the Age of Gods. It was a pure-blooded dragon that, when it was alive, could instantly destroy itself just by being looked at by an ordinary person.

Just as Novia had thought, Shiyali had spent the past year enduring the process of transforming its head.

She endured her fear of the dragon, the limits of her mind, wearing down her soul, unwilling to succumb to the feeling of falling into her own flesh.

The Aether Lines she used were as sharp as a high-pressure water jet with extremely accurate precision. Countless Aether Lines made small modifications to the dragon's head again and again. Apart from the accuracy of the blueprints Novia provided, she herself was likely adding more detailed elements.

It was no wonder that the Atlas Institute had always been so adept at crafting weapons.

However, the reason Shiyali had informed Novia a few days before its completion, besides her confidence in her calculations, was likely her competitive spirit, wanting Novia to personally witness the moment of successful creation. She probably wanted to prove that her reputation as a candidate for the next director of the Atlas Institute was not undeserved.

Time flowed by, and just as the day was about to change, Novia witnessed the magical output of the dragon's head, surrounded by Aether Lines, explosively rising.

Something was born successfully, and in an instant, the underground space transformed.

Blue aurora was born.

This was an aurora that shouldn't have appeared thousands of feet underground.

Brilliant, magnificent, or perhaps even malevolent ribbons of light surrounded the underground space, shining as if blessing the birth of something.

The world enveloped in darkness seemingly transformed into an endless ocean of blue light.

This was because the brilliantly glowing blue-black armament—it had been born.

Shiyali wearily released the encirclement of Aether Lines. The item, emitting a blue radiance, echoed with a series of reverberations and, following the Aether Lines, was placed before Novia.

"Alright, this is the weapon crafted according to your design concept, completely remodeled from the skull of what you call the Dragon of Albion..." She paused for a moment, then changed her tone and continued, "While your design blueprints were precise, there were some parts I couldn't modify in your way, so I had to use what I believed to be the correct method. Please forgive me for that."

"It's fine; I should be thanking you for being able to accomplish this much."

Novia reached out and took the 'Spear'. After seeing Shiyali retract her Aether Lines, he walked directly towards her.

"Indeed, my contract with you only extends until its completion."

Saying only this, Shiyali calmly took deep breaths, her expressionless gaze fixed on the silver-haired youth approaching her.

She was currently exhausted, both physically and mentally. A year's worth of pent-up frustration meant anyone could easily defeat her right now. After all, Mages were generally self-serving, efficiency-driven individuals. She had to be prepared for exposing her weakest moment prematurely.

If she felt regret, she didn't quite feel that. It was just a sense of unspeakable unwillingness.

Novia didn't say much in response. He simply hoisted the purple-haired girl onto his back with one arm and started walking towards the ground.

"Please put me down. I haven't reached the point where I need to rely on others. This isn't part of our contract."

The girl glared at Novia below her with displeased purple eyes.

"As expected, you wouldn't agree if I suggested carrying you out directly." The silver-haired youth didn't turn his head. "So, it's more convenient to just take action."

"...The mysteries and treasures found everywhere in this place are enough for you to establish an organization comparable to the Atlas Institute and the Wandering Sea."

"Getting this 'Spear' here is enough. Moreover, this body of Albion is crawling with disgusting, small, inhuman, beast-like maggots. I think the best course of action afterward is to bury this thing's body underground, lest it cause trouble everywhere when we go out—"

"Cough."

Before Novia could finish speaking, a sound emanated from the 'Spear' he held.