Chương 52: Chapter 51: Voices of the Victors

Amidst this graveyard of kingdoms, only the army of Crimvane remained standing. They held their heads high, their spears and ragged banners forming a forest of iron against the rewritten horizon. The Aurelyth army and the Caldris reinforcements had been reduced to a carpet of anonymous corpses, their ambitions bleeding into the crimson mud. Noa stood at the precipice of the hill—the very summit where Kahen, King of Aurelyth, was meant to declare his triumph.

Now, it was Noa's shadow that stretched long and dark across the ruins. <Report everything. > His voice resonated through the mental link. Though he did not realize it at the time, he was no longer using [Thought Communication]; he was using [Crown of Accumulation]. <Zero casualties from Crimvane, > Isla, the head of the healing unit, answered first. Her mental voice carried a shimmer of relief, a fragile melody dancing above the gore.

<All the Caldris soldiers have been slaughtered, my lord, > Lucien reported from the rear. <The Aurelyth army has also been purged entirely, > Numael, the second-in-command, added to fill the silence. <Our commander, Kaelen, is conscious, but he is currently unable to move. > As the formal reports concluded, a different kind of resonance began to swell within the mental link. It was not the rigid cadence of military hierarchy, but a collective exhale of the soul. <We… we really won.

> The knights and mages, sensing the openness in Noa's query, poured their unfiltered emotions into the shared consciousness. They felt how he had asked—not merely demanding a tactical summary, but listening for the heartbeat of the survivors. <I truly believed the sky would be the last thing I saw today, > a young knight thought, his mind flickering with the image of a home he had feared lost. <I lived! > a mage rejoiced, her mind radiating a warmth that felt like a hearth-fire in a storm. <We won…?

> a wounded soldier asked from within the dimly lit healing tents, his voice a dazed, hopeful echo. <Yes, you idiot. We won, > someone replied, their mental tone cracking with the unmistakable weight of tears of joy. Hearing the replies he yearned for, Noa allowed a genuine smile to grace his features. This was the masterpiece Vionette had sought to build—a victory untouched by the stains of betrayal, a triumph devoid of the hollow mourning for lost friends. It was a 'perfect win.'

He felt a swell of something warmer than pride; it was the satisfaction of a craftsman who had finally forged a world that didn't break in his hands. <Are you okay, Lord Noa? > The question caught him off guard, making his head twitch. It wasn't a voice he recognized—perhaps just a common foot soldier—yet it carried a tone of genuine concern usually reserved for family. Noa paused, the wind tugging at his dark hair, before closing his eyes and letting a soft huff of mental laughter ripple through the link.

<Of course, you moron, > he replied, the affection barely hidden beneath the insult. <Right? How can he be harmed? > <Naturally. > The army began exchanging jests and comforts across the field, a chaotic web of chatter connecting people who had never met but were now bonded in blood. <Whatever it is, > Noa raised Acheron, the black blade catching the dying light, and aimed it directly at the zenith of the sky. The entire army fell silent, every eye turning toward that singular point of steel.

<Today and always, Crimvane will win. > One by one, the weapons rose. Swords, spears, magic staffs, and bloodied hands reached for the heavens. A roar of victory erupted, a battle cry that seemed to tear through the clouds.

"You look really happy." Vionette exited the tent after finishing her business with the controlled knight. She approached him, her striking crimson eyes tracing his silhouette against the fading dusk. Noa turned his head to look at her.

"Says the one most happy for this victory." Vionette closed the distance between them, stopping a few paces away. She wanted to touch Noa, but something stood in her way. She looked at the blood splattered across his outfit and face, her lip curling in a disgusted pout.

"…Clean that up, it's messy." If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Ah, okay." A faint pulse of Aether spread from Noa's body, repelling all the gore and dust from his skin and clothes. A second later, not a single drop of crimson remained.

"Good, right?" He extended his arms to his sides, looking at his newly cleaned clothes with a touch of pride. Vionette closed the final few steps and leaned forward, her face tilted up toward Noa, who stood slightly taller than her. She smiled—not a mocking or guarded expression, but an intimately personal one, her crimson eyes sliding down his collar before slowly returning to his face. As handsome as ever. Before he could react, her hand rose.

Two fingers caught the edge of his collar, tugging him just a fraction closer.

"Though you missed a spot."

"Where?" Noa blinked.

"There's no way anything could remain after I erased it with Aether." Instead of answering, Vionette brushed her thumb lightly across the corner of his jaw. There was nothing there. Noa stared at her, the realization of her intent slowly dawning on him.

"…there," she whispered, pulling his face closer. Noa's eyes widened as her pink lips traced along the shell of his ear before taking a slow, teasing bite. When she finally pulled back, he looked down at her with a smirk.

"Princess, did you skip a meal or something?" His fingers traced below her chin, tilting it up as he pulled her closer.

"Hmm?" She held his gaze, her glowing hand grabbing his tie and pulling him flush against her. <There they go again. > Suddenly, a voice rang through the link. It was a knight of Blackmoor who had witnessed their 'royal flirting' before. <What—Oh! Check that out! > The mage who turned around to see what he meant paused, her mental voice peaking with scandalous excitement. <Yeah… they did it in Blackmoor too—they really have no shame.

> Noa instantly severed the mental link upon hearing the gossip, but it was too late; the entire battlefield had just witnessed their private moment. As their lips met, Vionette's eyes darted toward the battlefield below, a flush beginning to crawl up her neck.

"People are watching, you idiot," she whispered against his lips.

"So what? You started it." Noa drew her closer, his hand sliding behind her back to press her firmly against his chest.

"And I'm finishing it." In one fluid motion, Noa swept her off her feet, one arm cradling her back while the other hooked beneath her knees. He closed the distance between their lips once more. Despite the deep flush spreading across her cheeks, Vionette tightened her grip on his tie and pulled him in.

"You idiot…" she whispered. [Blink] With the soft thud of boots against the earth, Noa materialized in front of Lina and the others, Vionette still held firmly in his arms. Elina and Lina had been huddled together, discussing war tactics and the day's events—though Elina understood very little of it. Roswell and Livora stood nearby, their gazes fixed on the horizon as they muttered about the sheer impossibility of Crimvane's victory. As the air shimmered and the duo materialized, Lina and Elina spun toward them.

Lina leaned forward, her eyes sharpening like a hawk's as she took in the scene. Vionette was sporting a radiant blush, clinging to Noa's chest as if she had been caught mid-tumble. Noa himself looked unusually flustered, his usual carefree composure nowhere to be seen.

"Mmmmm…" Lina's voice trailed off into a long, suggestive hum, her eyes dancing with wicked delight.

"Hmmm…" Elina echoed, her draconic, ember eyes widening until they resembled glowing coals.

"Enough of those faces," Noa muttered, his voice a fraction more hurried than usual as he hastily set Vionette down on her feet.

"Yes," Vionette added, regaining her composure with a frantic sort of elegance.

"It was just a ki—""AHAHAHAHAH!" Lina's laughter exploded. She doubled over, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

"The crazy duo who smile while killing people gets flustered over a kiss?! This is the best thing I've seen all year!"

"HAHAHAH! Right?!" Elina joined in, her laughter wheezing and high-pitched.

"Anyone else would have been normal, but seeing two crazy killers get shy is unbelievable! HAHAHAH—Eiiik!" Suddenly, Elina's eyes bulged in shock. Her cheeks began to turn a deep, vibrant red—not from embarrassment, but from the physical pressure of Vionette's vengeance. Vionette had stepped forward, her hand reaching out to scratch Elina's chin in that mocking way she favored, before her fingers abruptly clamped down hard.

She gripped the dragon-girl's face, squeezing her cheeks together until Elina's eyes were forced into narrow slits and her mouth formed a squished, trembling 'O.'

"What did you say, you stupid lizard?" Vionette's aura shifted instantly, morphing from a flustered girl back into a cold-blooded sovereign.

"Wanna see if you can survive starving for a month?" She smiled, her crimson eyes gleaming wickedly. Elina's eyes welled with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she tried to form a muffled apology through her squashed cheeks.

"AHHH! Put me down, you—!" Lina screamed from the other side. Noa had reached out and hoisted Lina up by her twin-tails, dangling her at eye level. Lina flailed her arms, desperately clutching her own hair to ease the strain as she bicycled her legs in the air.

"You two really don't know when to keep your mouths shut," Noa sighed, his expression laced with disappointment.

"Ahem! You two, we need to speak with you." Roswell interrupted the chaos. Beside him, Livora stood with her hands clasped tightly, her face noticeably pale. Noa and Vionette snapped back to attention, the playful energy evaporating in a heartbeat. The atmosphere shifted from lighthearted comedy to suffocating tension in the span of a single breath.

"Now that the war is over," Livora began, her voice trembling slightly.

"Let's discuss how we shall divide the territories of Aurelyth and Caldris. There are many borders to redraw—" Suddenly, the sharp hiss of Vionette's sword cleaving the air rang across the hilltop. Before Livora could finish her sentence, the edge of the blade was resting directly against her throat, the cold steel biting into the soft skin of her neck.

[Name: Elina] [Race: Dragon] [Age: 14 (+3000)] [Affiliation: Red Dragon] [Titles: —] [Essence Fragment: —] [Synchronization: —] Attributes • Authority:??? • Existence:??? Inheritances [Dragon Blast] • Inherited ability of dragons, also known as Dragon Breath. Skills [Resonance Control (Uncommon)] • Refines the magical frequency of spells, turning blunt explosions into surgical strikes of stability. [Scaled Hide (Rare)] • Causes scales to shift and lock together, forging a singular, impenetrable shell.

[Draconic Core Circulation (Rare)] • Optimizes internal Aether flow to surge with raw power and accelerate casting speed by several times. [Molten Scales (Rare)] • Spikes the user's body temperature to liquefy scales into glowing, molten iron armor. [Dragonheart Convergence (Unique)] • Synchronizes the user's body, Aether, and flame into one state to drastically increase fire magic output.

[Ember Tyranny (Unique)] • Seizes the concept of fire within the vicinity, forcibly bending Aether to absorb, redirect, or reshape any flame.