I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

—[Engage Protocol]—

—[Apocrypha (False Epigraphy): Dragon's Roar]—

The most forbidden weapon was deployed in an instant.

A massive cannon spewed radiant blue light as a storm of corrupted world-spirit particles erupted from behind Schwi, blooming like a Klein-blue spider lily.

Even the most terrifying Dragonia, upon being struck by this weapon, could not emerge unscathed. This was a force capable of reshaping worlds.

Twelve years ago, the Burning Dragon Aranleif waged war against one-quarter of the Ex-Machina units, ultimately sacrificing itself in the ultimate offering.

The "Dragon Roar" of Aranleif the Ultimate devastated the Ex-Machina, causing irreparable losses.

The Ex-Machina's Apocrypha managed to replicate 43.7% of this destructive power. As the Dragon King's ultimate weapon, Dragon Roar was something that should never be used lightly—it was Schwi's final ace.

Kurumi stared skyward as the searing light consumed everything.

The blue explosive blast bisected the storm with a deafening roar.

Schwi fired directly at it, and far beyond, the oppressive clouds were ripped open, revealing a massive crimson moon.

The flawless, unfamiliar moon—so unlike the one Kurumi remembered—was obliterated the moment it appeared, taking a direct hit.

From the distance, Kurumi could see the terrifying shockwave from the explosion gouging the moon's surface. Red lunar dust boiled into the vacuum, forming ominous clouds.

In the aftermath of this apocalyptic assault, a vast crater, encompassing nearly a quarter of the moon's surface, remained.

Far away, the faint, agonized groan of something ancient and massive reverberated across the expanse.

Legend had it that the Lunamana, a reclusive species, resided upon the Red Moon. Kurumi could only mutter, "Good luck with that."

"Ehe~," Schwi chirped nervously as she quickly disassembled the massive cannon, dismissing the dragon-wing glyph glowing behind her. She bowed her head, toes scraping the ground, and poked her index fingers together bashfully.

It seemed... she might have caused trouble. Her eyes darted to Kurumi, filled with a mixture of guilt and anticipation.

The broken remnants of world-spirit particles fluttered down like snow, painting the scene with eerie beauty. For once, it seemed as if massive bricks of snow, not delicate flakes, were raining from the sky.

Kurumi sighed, watching Schwi's wide, pleading eyes, clearly torn between reprimanding her and laughing at the absurdity.

She thought, Maybe I should station Schwi directly in the World Spirit Corridor—let her continuously drain spirits and kill them one after the other. Would that end this war altogether?

The monstrous, stormy entity writhed in agony. Even though Kurumi and Schwi's coordination had been far from perfect, the devastation was evident. If Schwi had aimed that Dragon's Roar directly at the chains anchoring the core of the storm, it might have ended entirely.

Still, Schwi had hesitated. She was afraid of hurting Kurumi.

Kurumi clucked her tongue in frustration. "I should've just used my invincibility buff and let her clear the field."

The remnants of the entity's tendrils sagged, their substance obliterated by Schwi's strike. Kurumi smirked as she strode toward the storm's central mass, now pinned to the ground.

The Boss is in a weakened state! Time to strike!

Brilliant, deep-orange flames began to ignite across Kurumi's body, radiating a deathly chill. In her wake, countless spectral blades howled through the air, their sound a symphony of vengeance.

"You think you're so scary, huh~?" Kurumi sneered, her voice dripping with mockery.

Before her, the fractured storm entity—bearing the label Black Poem—Frost above its form—twitched and quivered, golden ichor spilling from its damaged core. Large and small eyes opened along the cracks, their cold stares filled with hatred and resentment.

Kurumi sneered. A health bar is all I need. Even a god isn't safe once I can see that.

With a mock kiss to her blade, Kurumi charged. Her double-edged gun-blades cleaved through the writhing air, shredding any opposition in her path.

—Carnage Waltz.

Under the crimson moonlight, the bloodstained rose bloomed.

The storm's remnants hissed, its final moments marked by a chorus of anguished moans. Torn to shreds, the swirling winds dissipated, leaving a crushing silence behind. Broken icebergs and dislodged fragments of the landscape came crashing back to earth, filling the scene with the chaotic remnants of the battle.

But it wasn't over yet.

Kurumi's eyes remained fixed on the glowing remnants of the health bar. Though it was nearly depleted, a faint glimmer at the far end indicated something amiss.

Her Thousand Eyes technique activated, parsing the entity's final words.

—Primogenitor's Rebirth—

Before Kurumi could react, the health bar shot upward, its vibrant black aura swelling to encompass 80% of its total size.

"...Crap, it's got a second phase," she muttered grimly.

The ground trembled, and a deafening roar erupted from behind her. Kurumi whirled around just in time to see Schwi's hiding place—a jagged ice ridge—splinter apart, throwing glacial debris skyward.

The earth fractured as something massive and ancient stirred beneath the frozen wasteland.

For the first time, Kurumi realized what Schwi had detected earlier beneath the ice: the seemingly symmetrical shapes were not natural formations but the fossilized remains of a massive creature.

The gargantuan skeleton emerged, its decayed golden eye sockets glowing with flickering blue flames. Every movement released a cacophony of creaking bones as the monstrous, dragon-like figure rose from its eternal slumber.

The land began to collapse, falling into the encroaching sea.

The frozen wasteland had been precariously balanced upon the ancient corpse all along, and now that it had awakened, the entire region was sinking into chaos.

Schwi darted toward Kurumi, her slender wings flapping desperately as she wrapped herself around her companion. Her soft touch conveyed urgency and apology in equal measure.

The creature—its skeletal form immense enough to support a small city on its back—reared its head and let loose an earth-shattering roar. Its massive, decayed frame trembled with the force of its defiance as stormlike wings of pure wind materialized behind it.

The howl of the reborn monstrosity shattered the sky, scattering the dark clouds above and plunging the battlefield into darkness.

Jagged glaciers loomed at the edge of the horizon, collapsing into ruin.

Massive, murky ice shells drifted across the sea, the frothing waves black as ink beneath a piercing cold wind. The colossal creature raised itself, its faint blue glow resembling hellfire. The light illuminated the inky waters, revealing faint traces of dark golden bones beneath the radiant blue.

Just a little longer—had it been allowed to hibernate for a few more centuries, it might have transcended the third-ranked Elemental and become the "strongest" being in existence.

So this... was the power of Hartyleif. The monster clenched its skeletal claws.

—Strength to lift mountains, to incinerate souls. Now... I am invincible!

Ten millennia ago, this site was the tallest, most blazing throne on earth, until it was split by two of the mightiest pillars. The Dragonia, forsaking its claim as "The Strongest", was felled by the God of War and entombed forever in this deepest abyss.

The spear wielded by the God of War incinerated even time itself. The "strongest" material in the world—Dragonkind bones—was reduced to molten slag.

But... perhaps due to the hesitation, the doubt of that being, this unmatched skeleton remained. It was forever sealed beneath the polar ice.

The skeletal remains stood mighty and perfect, its spiked ridges and jagged spine aimed at the heavens. Yet now, this throne had been usurped.

—I am the Black Poem—Frost.

The Fiendkind reveled in its newly acquired might as ghostly blue flames roared from its form. It turned to Kurumi and Schwi, bellowing furiously:

—I am the singer of death and catastrophe.

***

The God of War remained upon His throne.

It had been countless ages since He had moved from His seat, unable to find a worthy adversary capable of stirring His interest.

The God yearned for battle. He longed for a powerful foe to push Him to the brink, someone worthy of an all-out war.

But all challengers had proven far too weak, unable even to surpass the divine soldiers He had created.

This being—revered and exalted as the strongest god—was the God of War, Artosh, creator of the Flügel.

Should a rival emerge who could bring Him to His knees in glorious defeat, perhaps He would even welcome such an outcome with joy.

Yet... the one capable of such a feat could never be "the weakest."

Standing before the throne was Azril, her emerald-green hair shimmering. Unlike Raphael, she believed solely in the power of strength, rejecting notions of fate.

"My wings... you have done well." The voice boomed with majesty, echoing through the hall as Artosh gazed down with golden eyes that bore the weight of the skies.

"My Lord God... you summoned us hastily. May I ask the reason?" Azril inquired in a formal tone.

"Did you hear it? The wailing from the North." The God of War's expression darkened.

"I heard it." The sound had echoed through her very soul—a clarion call that magic-born lifeforms could never ignore.

"That which was meant to remain in eternal slumber... has been disturbed by ants." Artosh's voice dripped with disdain. "Go. Show them... what it means to face the strongest."

"As you command." Azril bowed deeply, prepared to depart.

"Wait... let her go instead." The God of War's decree shifted abruptly.

Azril hesitated, sensing the presence of someone else. She turned to see a radiant figure stepping into the hall, her demeanor wholly unaffected by the room's solemnity.

The newcomer was a petite girl drenched in blood, a heavenly beauty with long hair that fluttered as though carried by an unseen breeze. She smiled radiantly, though her gaze held a tangible killing intent.

"My apologies, my Lord God. The Gigant were a bit too eager, so I was delayed," the girl said lightly, recounting her endeavors as though they were trivial. Yet every Flügel in the room knew she had single-handedly battled the Giants again.

Azril stared at the girl's back, then... began to swoon.

"Little Jibriel... so adorable."

"Even covered in blood... she's still so adorable."

***

The entirety of Schwi's mechanical arsenal deployed in an instant, spraying hyper-condensed spirit exhaust as particles erupted from her back. She held Kurumi close, ascending with breathtaking speed.

Thunder roared across the sky as the colossal beast below unleashed a frost-blue breath, freezing everything in its path.

The creature's newly attained strength was intoxicating—it felt as if the entire world lay within its grasp. With but a thought, it could summon roaring seas, erupting volcanoes, and sunder the skies themselves.

Its skeletal claws, massive and decayed, raked across the ocean's surface, tearing through the newly frozen layer of ice with ease. The wind-wings at its back flapped once, sending a shockwave so powerful it shattered icebergs across a radius of tens of kilometers, causing them to crash into the sea.

The resurrected giant spread its vast, shadow-casting wings, rising toward the heavens.

From Kurumi's perspective, the dragon seemed to regenerate its flesh and don shimmering scales. Blade-like wings solidified, and its fiery eyes burned with ferocious intensity.

It had reclaimed its throne.

What a pity... This magnificent body was now ruled by a vile, pathetic soul, rather than the Dragon King it once was.

"Schwi... let me down," Kurumi said softly, patting Schwi's hand.

"But..." Schwi hesitated.

"Come on, trust me," Kurumi replied with a smile as she twirled her gun-blades. "I'm really strong, you know."

"Alright..." Schwi reluctantly released her grip, her words barely forming before Kurumi cut her off.

"Schwi, this time—no funny business, okay?" Kurumi smirked, wagging a finger.

At nearly 10,000 meters above sea level, where even breathing felt labored, Schwi loosened her hold.

Kurumi narrowed her eyes against the rushing wind, clutching her hood tightly with one hand while pressing her coat's hem down with the other. Her scarf fluttered wildly in the fierce currents.

Necklace... bracelet... ring...

Armlet... chestpiece... earrings...

One by one, crimson lights ignited like solitary stars in the darkness, converging upon her.

"I am... the Lord of the Black Heavens."

Kurumi chuckled softly, her words laced with familiar melodramatic flair.

At the highest point of the sky, the desolate bird circled, crying out in song.

—I will ascend the heavens, and from the highest peak, I will watch over you.

—And when you face an unbearable crisis, I will protect you with all my might.

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