Meanwhile, high in the sky above.
The once-arrogant red dragon was now covered in wounds, groaning weakly. Deep gashes reached into her flesh, bathed in a clinging golden radiance that continuously eroded the open wounds.
Her wing membranes resembled tattered rags; with every beat, the wind howled through the tears, making for a truly wretched sight.
Yet she still regarded her opponent merely as a troublesome nuisance, not believing the woman could truly defeat her. After all, she was a red dragon. She possessed the strength bestowed by Tiamat, searing dragonfire, and myriad tricks she had yet to unleash.
*Boom!*
The red dragon landed heavily upon the mountain peak, shaking the rocky cliffs and sending loose stones tumbling down.
For the first time, hesitation crept into her voice. "Half-elf, you are strong."
"Unlike ordinary mortals, your power far exceeds theirs. Therefore, you are worthy of the respect of a noble true dragon."
"Become my thrall, and you may rule the Great Anzetta Waste alongside me!"
The half-elven paladin did not answer. She merely raised the silver sword in her hand, her gaze resolute. Her scorched silver armor still gleamed faintly through the soot.
"Whether hunting sworn foes or driving back petty sins, I choose to challenge the greater evil."
"And for sworn foes, there is no mercy."
Rhea bounded lightly into the air, the silver sword in her grip radiating an aura like the dying glow of sunset.
Though neither dazzling nor intense, it carried an unyielding resolve—a promise to shine brightly even as darkness fell.
This was the origin of the moniker "Blade of Twilight."
"Spirits of Vengeance!"
With a sharp, resounding cry, countless spectral figures manifested around the half-elven paladin.
They were children burned alive in raging fires, mothers crushed beneath collapsed homes, men who had bravely raised pitchforks only to be reduced to ash by dragonfire, and warriors who had stood against evil only to be crushed into paste beneath razor talons—and they were the paladin's own blazing will for vengeance.
Rhea took flight into the air, ethereal black wings unfurling from her back, making her appear like an angel born for retribution.
At this moment, she soared above the very peak of the mountain.
"Roar—!"
Acrania roared. The absolute pride of a red dragon would never permit any lesser creature to look down upon her from above.
Now, all the power coursing through her bloodline surged forth. Relying on raw, primal physical might—the brutal melee combat red dragons excelled at—
she lunged upward with unstoppable momentum!
*Boom!*
The sheer force of their impending collision made the mountain shudder, trembling through the entirety of the Great Anzetta Waste.
Even Cassius, in the midst of his desperate flight, could not resist turning back to sneak a glance at the terrifying spectacle.
"Divine Smite!"
Pouring every ounce of strength into her body, Rhea gripped her silver sword and brought it down in a plunging slash, paying no heed to the red dragon's snapping, blood-soaked maw.
The silver longsword, cloaked in twilight radiance, sheared diagonally downward.
*Slash—!*
Like a hot knife through butter, the blade effortlessly cleaved through scales harder than plate armor, tearing into the red dragon's scalding blood vessels and churning flesh.
The phantoms swirling around her acted like a vast legion; the spirits of vengeance howled and roared, surging into the wound at the dragon's neck.
With every impact, the laceration deepened by feet.
Wracked with agony, Acrania threw her head back in a tormented screech. But this instinctive recoil only worsened the tear, sending scalding blood spouting like a geyser.
"Aargh—!"
At first, the red dragon could still cry out in pain, but once her throat was completely severed, even sound escaped her.
It all happened too fast.
Too fast for the red dragon to swing her massive claws or lash her heavy tail.
She had not even had time to call upon the unmatched power granted to her by Tiamat.
Yet the silver blade had mercilessly carved through her throat.
The adult red dragon, tens of meters long, struggled briefly in midair before her wings went limp, and she crashed heavily onto the mountainside.
*Boom!*
The earth shook as her colossal body tumbled down the slope, bringing an end to a life steeped in greed and sin.
Her soul might be claimed by Tiamat, or perhaps torn apart by the spirits of vengeance.
Yet one thing was certain beyond all doubt.
The red dragon was dead.
...
Meanwhile, at the foot of Cloud Peak's southern slope.
"An angel of vengeance with wings on her back... practically a max-level dark knight. Absolutely terrifying."
"Time to run, time to run."
Cassius couldn't help but marvel.
Quasi-legendary combat power had been top-tier even in Version 4.0 of his past life; out of tens of millions of players, no more than a few hundred had ever attained that level.
And those who could step onto the path of true legends were even fewer.
With that in mind, the young red dragon grew only more determined to flee. He swiftly activated the spell granted by the swallowed Ring of the Nimble Mage, casting it upon himself.
*Expeditious Retreat!*
Instantly, his speed surged.
Cassius sprinted like a bolt of red lightning, heading toward the dense woods in the distance.
As for flying?
He didn't dare right now.
If his luck went sour and the quasi-legendary warrior's senses picked him up, she could lob a Divine Smite from hundreds of meters away and send his soul straight to Tiamat.
That was a quasi-legendary paladin, after all.
Possessing Divine Sense was the most normal thing in the world for someone like her.
Cassius was too busy fleeing in a panic to think about anything else.
He had no idea that the half-elven paladin was standing atop the mountain peak, bathed in still-warm dragon blood, looking down at Cloud Peak's southern slope—
—right in the direction where the young dragon was fleeing.
A flicker of doubt crossed Rhea's amber eyes.
Through her spirit sight that detected evil, the distant young red dragon was not cloaked in the black aura typical of the evil alignment, as normal red dragons were.
Instead, he radiated the colorless aura of the neutral alignment.
"A neutral red dragon? How is that possible...?"
After considering it for a moment, she nonetheless raised her silver sword and pointed it toward the young dragon from afar, resolved to get to the bottom of it.
"Hold Monster!"
Following the point of her silver sword, an arc of magical radiance shot into the distance.
If it struck, the young red dragon would be frozen in place by the spell, unable to budge an inch.
Yet just as the light was about to touch the dragon's scales,
an invisible barrier suddenly manifested over Cassius, completely neutralizing the *Hold Monster* spell before shattering into fragments.
*Globe of Invulnerability.*
Cassius was terrified by the sight. After all, the amulet of spell immunity could only be used once per day, and he would not get a second chance.
"Run!"
Under the sheer terror of life and death, the young dragon frantically beat his still-tender wings, taking to the air with reckless abandon.
Fleeing for his very life, he plunged into the forest in the blink of an eye, vanishing into the deep woods under the cover of towering trees until all trace of him was gone.
Rhea looked down at the endless expanse of the Pokhara Forest, her brow furrowing slightly, before she shook her head in resignation.
A neutral red dragon.
Perhaps she had just created a terrifying enemy for her future; perhaps he would bring about positive change for this world; or perhaps nothing at all would come of it...
Indeed.
She would not slay him over evil that had not yet come to pass, but if that red dragon ever committed monstrous atrocities, Rhea was just as confident that she could cut him down with her peerless silver blade, exactly as she had today.
Such was the creed of a paladin of the Oath of Vengeance.
"No mercy for the wicked."
"Yet perhaps... mercy for an ordinary foe."
The half-elf slowly removed her helmet, revealing a cool, beautiful face as she murmured under her breath.
Chapter 3