“Cough, cough…”
On the smoke-filled fields of Dawn Valley, Noel knelt on one knee, his left hand pressed tightly over the wound on his chest.
Blood continuously streamed through his fingers, staining the silver cross badge on his chest—the very emblem of the Holy Spirit Order’s glory.
All around him, the countless legions of demons, led by the Dragonkin and Blood Clan, were steadily closing in on Noel.
Noel Hades, captain of the Holy Spirit Order of the Human Empire, had become the wielder of the Holy Sword at a young age, and his Order was hailed as the “Empire’s Hope.”
He was meant to lead the Holy Spirit Order to defend against the demon’s main force.
At first, both sides were evenly matched, but with the exposure of their defense plans and the identities of the Order’s members.
In just one week, the Holy Spirit Order, which once had eighteen members, was now reduced to Noel alone.
“Brother, it’s not too late to surrender now. Otherwise, you can join your Holy Spirit Order in hell!” A voice called out from nearby.
A blue-haired, golden-eyed young man who looked very much like Noel stepped out from among the demon army.
It was Noel’s younger brother, Azer.
Hearing the voice, Noel clutched his chest and slowly looked up.
The moment he saw Azer, fury surged within him.
He slammed his right fist into the ground, his hand tightening into a fist as he growled through gritted teeth: “Azer… you traitor to all humanity, you toady of the Dragonkin! Have you forgotten your oath and pride as a knight?!”
“Shut up! Why should you be humanity’s beacon, the Holy Sword’s chosen one, while I can only be your attendant knight?”
“Hmph, now as long as you die, the Holy Sword will be mine. Hahahaha!”
“You bastard! You’re nothing but a Dragonkin lapdog pretending to be human. I’ll never forgive you!”
Noel gritted his teeth and, enduring the pain, forced himself to stand up.
With his right hand, he pulled the Holy Sword “Dawn” from the scorched earth.
Then, letting go of his chest, he straightened his back and gripped the sword with both hands, raising “Dawn” horizontally before him.
As his holy power surged wildly through his arms and into the Holy Sword.
“Dawn” let out a deafening hum.
The holy crystal on its blade flared with dazzling light, splitting the night in two.
Noel’s lips began to move, ancient holy words spilling from between his teeth.
A brilliant sun radiating divine energy slowly emerged, its sacred aura causing the surrounding demonic energies to churn violently: “With my soul… summon forth the radiance of the saints!!”
“It’s… it’s ‘Holy Sun Radiance’! He’s going to unleash ‘Holy Sun Radiance’!?”
Azer’s face instantly turned deathly pale.
He had read about this move in ancient texts: The paladin’s life would serve as the catalyst, compressing holy power to its limit and then detonating it—wherever the light touched, demonic energy would be utterly purified.
But the cost was that the user would turn to dust in the radiance.
“Kill him! Hurry, everyone attack, kill him now!!” Azer frantically waved his demon sword, ordering all the demon soldiers to charge.
But it was too late.
As soon as the demon soldiers touched the golden aura, they melted away like snow meeting fire, leaving not even ash behind.
“Ah~! Ah—ah…”
As Noel finished gathering all his holy power, his body turned half-transparent in the golden radiance.
The blazing sunlight was so intense it was impossible to look directly at him.
“In the name of the Paladin—cleanse all darkness!!”
‘Holy Sun—Radiance’!!
Just as the final syllable was about to leave his lips, as Noel was about to unleash ‘Holy Sun Radiance,’ a flash of silver lightning cut through the golden aura.
Noel suddenly felt an indescribable agony shoot through his back, as if his very soul had been torn asunder.
A claw covered in silvery-white dragon scales pierced his chest, its blood-soaked talons gripping the Holy Sword’s hilt with precision.
“To use this power, knowing the price is to be utterly destroyed, takes quite some courage for a human Paladin.”
A cool, feminine voice sounded by his ear, carrying the Dragonkin’s unique majesty and indifference.
Noel struggled to move his eyes, glimpsing silver-white hair streaming in the moonlight, golden vertical pupils reflecting his dying face, and atop her head, dragon horns as clear as crystal—she was none other than Xamiel, Dragon Empress.
The chanting of holy words came to an abrupt halt, and the golden light receded like the tide.
“How is this possible… when did you… urgh!”
Before Noel could finish, a mouthful of blood burst violently from his lips.
Noel’s body slumped weakly, falling to his knees.
The Holy Sword was now in Xamiel’s grasp, its holy crystal dull, stained only with the warmth of Noel’s blood.
Xamiel’s claw traced lightly along the blade.
She glanced at Noel, still kneeling and not yet dead, and smiled: “Hehehe, any ordinary human would have died the moment a dragon’s claw pierced his chest. Yet you still live. Your holy power is interesting.”
Noel stared at the bloody hole in his chest, the sensation of the dragon’s claw lingering.
“I… I can’t fall yet. I have to…” Before he could finish, another mouthful of blood spurted out.
At last, Noel collapsed.
In his fading consciousness, he spoke weakly: “I… I can’t… fall… behind me, there’s still… uh…”
“This human is rather interesting. His holy power feels oddly familiar. Maybe…”
Xamiel’s lips curled slightly upward.
She bent down, reached out, and gently picked up Noel’s body.
With a light swipe of her tail, a spatial gate opened easily behind her.
She stepped through it with Noel, leaving Dawn Valley behind.
…
…
No one knew how much time passed.
In a bedroom of the Dragonkin’s Ice Palace, on a soft, furry bed, there lay a tiny figure.
Silver-white hair, pale rosy skin, and atop a small head, a pair of white dragon horns.
The little one wore a pink and white lacy nightgown, looking adorably dazed.
Her eyelids fluttered, and the next second, a pair of crimson, vertical pupils slowly opened, filled with the confusion of just waking up.
“Wha~ where is this? How am I… still alive?”
The little girl blinked up at the ceiling, her childish, milky voice surprising even herself: “Didn’t I die in Dawn Valley… Was it all a dream?”
She shook her little head, mumbling as if still in a dream: “Mm… if it’s a dream, I’ll just sleep a bit longer…”
“Huh?! Wait a minute!!”
But just as she was about to close her eyes, she suddenly realized—this childish voice wasn’t hers at all!?
“Why does my voice sound so cute?!”
The little girl shot upright and looked down at her hands—a pair of tiny paws covered in fine silvery-white scales, soft pink pads tinged with pale rose.
“Ah, these… are still my hands? Why are they so pale, so small… mm.”
She lifted the covers, revealing a petite body in a lacy nightgown, and behind her, a short silvery-white tail tinged with soft pink, its tip heart-shaped.
“What… what is this? Why do I have a tail?!”
Yes, this adorable, silver-haired dragonkin hatchling was none other than Noel, whose heart had been clawed out by the Dragon Empress Xamiel not long ago.
After being brought back by Xamiel, he had somehow turned into a dragonkin hatchling, his voice now childish, his dragon scales not even fully grown in!
“What on earth is happening?!”
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