Chapter 53: The Dragon Empress vs The Harbinger
The Dragon Empress and the Harbinger faced each other in brittle silence. The Dragon Empress stood ramrod‑straight, her gaze glacial, while the Harbinger hummed behind a saccharine smile. The moment they unleashed their layered, escalating mana through honed skills, their earlier contrast shattered.
The Empress’s robes fluttered of their own accord, long sleeves billowing as raw mana spilled from her curves like scaled violet dragon tails. Opposite her, the Harbinger’s mana writhed across the stone floor in black tendrils braided with pale‑green, tentacle‑like strands that slithered from beneath her short skirt, obscene and revolting in equal measure.
The Harbinger stretched out her hand and splayed her fingers, a wet, bone‑scraping tear splitting the air. A thin cut bloomed across her palm, coughing up a spiked club studded with the fangs of countless species. She wrapped her bleeding hand around the hilt and rested the weapon on her shoulder.
"This body’s real owner came from another world, sweetheart, a sweet little lass, and I’ve borrowed more than a bit from her," she giggled. "Alas, she fought with a spear, always calculated, precise, and dreadfully dull, even when I flooded her veins with my mana. Oh, how tragic that I had to finish her off from the inside just because she refused to evolve, despite her aching desire to go home. And you, Dragon Empress, are you still spurning my offer? I can unlock the power the old Warden sealed in your kind.""
"The stench of human spawn offends Us," the Empress replied, her voice crystalline and frigid. "Cease your barking and fight, or with a single gesture We shall flay you alive."
"Oh, how scary~," the Harbinger sang. "Very well—I’ll make the first move!"
She lifted the club overhead. Its fangs snapped at empty air before she brought it down, releasing a yellow‑white gleam that fired every tooth like a swarm of daggers. They screamed toward the Empress.
The Dragon Empress raised a hand diagonally across her body, unleashing a surge of draconic mana that rolled out in a bone‑deep tug, as if gravity itself warped toward her. A violet gale met the storm of fangs, sparks hissing where power collided. The teeth dimmed and clattered to the floor, lifeless.
Unfazed, the Harbinger flashed a wider grin and shook her club. Fresh fangs erupted along the shaft. She steadied her stance and wound up for a throw.