Dragon Battle

The gale blew the piebald deerskin hood from her head, sending her long platinum-blonde curls streaming loose.

She clutched the winding dragon horns before her, like a dark crimson crown. Warmth spread from her palms; she could clearly feel the immense heat, yet there was not the slightest hint of burning pain.

"Captain, you're actually a dragon?"

Vivianna still had not quite recovered from the shock. Her voice drifted airily, like that of someone tipsy and falling into the clouds.

It was too unimaginable, like a dream.

Lothar's voice transmitted to her: "No. I merely gained the ability to transform into a giant dragon. I'm human—there's no question about that."

Changes to the body naturally affected the mind as well, but Lothar's soul was now resilient enough to cast aside all such influences.

That was also why he had always prioritized Spirit. Without a tough enough soul, his nature would have long since drifted toward a dragon's arrogance, cruelty, and greed. That was not something one could escape through willpower alone.

"Are you ready to fight?"

"I haven't tried it yet..."

Vivianna was clearly not very confident. She had never been a Dragon Knight before, and the combat methods of a Dragon Knight had little in common with those of traditional knights.

But this was no time to shrink back. She took a deep breath, gripped her blade tightly, and declared decisively, "I'm ready!"

"Good. That's the spirit."

Lothar's voice carried a smile, but he swiftly turned serious. "Hold on tight." The moment his words fell, his massive body shot skyward at a vertical ninety-degree angle.

A Venetian militiaman guarding the walls pointed behind the battlements in terror. "Bishop Aeneas, look behind you!"

The Latin bishop, who had been holding an icon and reciting a prayer, turned around in surprise.