"CO—SHEOL!"
BOOM!
The sky cracked open with a thunderous roar.
From the heart of the swirling black vortex, a blade descended.
It was a massive greatsword wreathed in shadow, trailing tendrils of dark energy as it fell like a divine judgnt.
Six eyeballs circled its hilt, ominous.
Five remained closed.
One opened.
Sheol—First Stage.
Far across the dunes, the fire dragon reared back on its haunches, heat rolling off its body in waves. The air shimred, thick with pressure, suffocating. A low, resonant hum pulsed across the sands as the dragon pulled its breath deep into its lungs.
Its jaws opened.
A split-second of silence, then:
FWOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A blinding torrent of fire erupted from its maw, a beam of white-hot fla, condensed and focused into a single blast of annihilation!
The sheer force of it scorched the very air, turning sand to glass as it barreled toward the lone figure standing no more than a hundred ters away.
This was the kind of attack that could level a city.
Even S-rank adventurers would flee before it!
But... Ereskia...
She did not move.
She stood her ground, alone in the open, a silhouette frad in firelight. Wind tore at her short black hair. Her cloak snapped behind her, the greatsword in her grip pulsed with power.
She raised the sword.
"Crescent...."
Darkness flared out from it in branching tendrils, swallowing color, swallowing light, turning the world around her into a monochro void.
Her eyes blazed with a dark purple fla.
And with a single, decisive motion—
"... OF NIGHT!"
The catgirl warrior slashed down.
A great arc of shadow tore forward!
Vast and howling, it scread through the air, sharp as a scythe, dark as the space between stars. It surged toward the dragon’s fire, two forces destined to et.
They collided.
KRAKOOOM!!!
The impact split the sky. A blast wave rippled outward, flattening dunes, drowning the battlefield in thunder.
For a mont—just one mont—neither force gave way.
Then—
SVASH!
The arc of darkness won.
It pushed through.
It split the inferno.
It tore the fire beam apart at the center, sending harmless flas spiraling to either side like shattered glass. And it kept going, without even slowing down, straight through the blaze, straight toward the source.
The young dragon barely had ti to blink.
No roar. No final scream.
Just—
SPLOOSH!
The black crescent sliced cleanly through its head, its neck, its torso, straight down the middle.
Two halves of the great beast crashed into the sand with titanic weight. Blood hissed as it hit the still-hot glass. Smoke rose from the split carcass, curling up into the quiet sky.
Even for a young one, its scales were said to be tougher than steel.
But against Sheol...
It had never stood a chance.
The battlefield fell still.
The storm passed overhead, leaving only silence... and the crimson stains soaking into the dunes.
-----------------------
Now, she stood there, still and silent.
The cat-eared girl faced the fallen dragon, its massive body slumped in two smoldering halves in front of her. Smoke curled from its wounds, the acrid scent of scorched blood lingered in the air.
Ereskia didn’t move.
Her eyes were wide, still dazed, almost disbelieving.
She kept staring at the place where the dragon had been whole, as if expecting it to rise again, like it had all been so strange illusion.
Her hands shook.
She opened her mouth slightly, as if to speak, then closed it again. No words ca.
The greatsword in her grip pulsed faintly.
Then, in a slow, quiet shimr, it dissolved into smoke and vanished from her hand.
Thud.
A heavy sound behind her, dirt shifting under weight. Soone had landed.
She didn’t turn.
Not until she heard footsteps.
A towering figure ca into view from the corner of her vision.
He was Wolf Furren, a person with the face of man and ears and tails of the wolves. The man’s easily two and a half ters tall, broad-shouldered, solidly built, with a thick mane of black hair streaked with gray that fell around a weathered face. A jagged scar cut down one cheek. His eyes, golden and sharp, caught the light like tal.
Like her, he wore the black uniform of the Shadow Fang guild.
He stopped beside her, took in the scene of the smoking corpse of the dragon, the silence.
Then he looked at her.
"Holy hell, that was incredible!" he exclaid quietly, his deep voice carried a kind of awe that didn’t co easily. "Ereskia... to think you could bring down a fire dragon with a single strike. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes..."
He trailed off, shaking his head.
"I never would’ve believed it."
He wasn’t wrong.
Ereskia had only beco an A-rank adventurer within the last year.
A creature like this—a young fire dragon, sure, but still a force of nature—should’ve taken a full party of seasoned fighters to bring down.
Even S-rank veterans would’ve thought twice.
And yet... the catgirl, here she was, still breathing.
anwhile, the dragon at her feet... dead.
Ereskia let out a shaky breath, finally lowered her gaze.
"Yeah," she murmured, almost to herself. " neither."
She looked down at her hand, still trembling faintly. Her fingers flexed once, as if unsure they were her own.
"So this is... the power of a Divine Weapon? It’s... insane!" Her voice was soft, unsteady.
The man let out a short laugh.
"Yup. That’s a Divine Weapon for you."
He clapped a heavy hand on her back, solid and sure. The girl staggered a little under the weight, but didn’t complain.
"Congratulations," he said. "You have slain a lower S rank monster. You just took your first step into sothing way bigger than you know! With this kind of power, you’re going to be unstoppable!"
He grinned, wide and proud.
"No doubt in my mind—you’re going to be one of the strongest in the world!"
"And soon," he added with a chuckle, "Shadow Fang’s going to be the strongest Guild in the world too. Hah!"
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