Chapter 65: Space Lock

The cavern ceiling still radiated the residual heat from Shanman Timmah's spell. The falling rock had left the ceiling jagged and uneven, with the occasional fragment still crumbling down. Amid one of the larger depressions, a small opening revealed itself, and through it, two figures ascended, carried aloft by air magic.

Beneath them stretched a hellish landscape of fire and corpses, a veritable underworld of ruin. Yet, emerging through the opening led them to an entirely different realm—one of dim, eerie serenity. Faint luminescence seeped from the surrounding moss-like flora, casting an ethereal glow over the cavern. A river gurgled gently in the distance, its sound a stark contrast to the devastation below.

At the edge of the opening stood a young mage, peering anxiously downward. Upon seeing the air magic safely lift its passengers, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Knight Talice, is this young lady your friend?" Cervantes inquired, her keen eyes discerning the controlled magic from earlier—Talice wasn't capable of water-based spells.

Seeing Cervantes, Ayime instinctively shrank back. Though the radiant glow of his holy armor exuded peace and purity, she had grown wary and distrustful of Celeste's people.

Cervantes, however, paid no mind. He was still immersed in the whirlwind of events that had just transpired. With a sigh of relief, he admitted, "I truly have you both to thank. Without your help, I would have failed my mission. My own death wouldn't have mattered, but allowing His Holiness's plan to fall apart would have been unforgivable. Now, I can only hope that Lord Lancelotee and Mage Caitlyn have succeeded…"

"Teacher is in Nigen?" Talice froze. "Where is he now?"

"Judging by that scream earlier, they may have already killed Moriel."

Talice and Ayime instinctively turned toward the direction from which the scream had come—the same direction Asa had gone.

Dragon scales, unyielding as iron, scattered into the air as a burst of blood illuminated the battlefield. A deafening roar tore through Nigen as Moriel's draconic voice shook the cavern. The Holy Light Cross Sword had carved through her right shoulder at a steep angle, shattering her shoulder blade and slicing through a rib, nearly plunging into her lung. Blood erupted like a fountain, a gruesome testament to the strike's power.

Yet, this was far more than just a flesh wound. The sword's divine aura and fight spirit had seeped deep into the dragon's body, intensifying the damage far beyond what the eye could see—at least twice as devastating as the surface injury suggested.

Suspended in midair, Lancelotee did not allow himself even a moment of relief. Instead, his chest tightened with a sense of foreboding.

This strike was almost fatal. Almost—but not quite. At the very last moment, Moriel had managed to shift her massive body just enough that the sword, which could have severed her head, instead buried itself into her shoulder.

And for a creature of her caliber—the apex of the world's strongest beings—almost fatal was not enough.

As long as she was still breathing, as long as her colossal heart continued to pump, the ones who truly stood on the precipice of death… were everyone else.

The agonizing roar of Moriel echoed through the cavern, and in her dragon eyes, there was not just pain and unwillingness, but a maddened fury that could hardly be contained. Her massive jaws, still gaping wide from the strike, no longer released a cry of anguish, but the destructive force of her dragon's breath.

A torrent of red and yellow flames poured from her mouth, engulfing everything in its path. The first to be overwhelmed was Lancelotee. The fight spirit and energy he had summoned with the Holy Light Cross Sword had drained him completely, and suspended in midair, there was nowhere to evade. In the blink of an eye, his form was swallowed by the inferno.

With a deafening roar, the flames, as if released from a dam long ready to burst, cascaded across the battlefield, flooding the entire cavern. What was left of the minotaur warriors and temple knights was nothing but ash. Their screams were brief, quickly silenced by the suffocating heat. The firestorm didn't pause after devouring Lancelotee; it consumed everything in its wake, leaving only smoldering remnants in its path.

It took several long moments for the inferno to die down, and as the flames finally began to recede, Moriel gave a soft, defeated groan. Her enormous body collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. That deadly blast of dragon breath, born from a furious rage, had drained her beyond her limits. It was a power she could normally unleash when at full strength, but in her current state, weakened by grievous wounds, she had nearly torn apart her very heart and lungs with the effort.

As the red and yellow flames slowly subsided, the minotaur warriors were completely erased from existence, their bodies reduced to ash in the wake of the dragon's breath. The heat was not the only destructive force; the corrosive nature of the fire had utterly annihilated everything in its path.

Five figures emerged from the dissipating inferno, standing or half-kneeling, encased in the protective blue glow of their divine shields. They had all managed to activate their holy protection just in time, with Lancelotee among them, his Glory Armor barely withstanding the fiery onslaught. The divine shields had kept the deadly dragon breath at bay, enough to save them from being incinerated by the molten and bone-eating flames.

Moriel's massive form lay on the ground, her wounds gaping and visible through the tear in her scales, with blood still flowing steadily from the gash. The dragon's breath had obliterated the remains of the minotaur corpses, turning them to ash, but now the cavern was filled with the foul scent of dragon blood. A faint breath still escaped from her maw, but it was clear to all that this once-great creature was now on the verge of death. The god of Nigen, the most powerful and enigmatic being on the continent, was now barely stronger than a chicken in its final moments. She wouldn't last much longer.

Lancelotee let out a long breath, his Holy Armor singed and scorched from the attack. If he had delayed activating the Holy Shield by even a fraction of a second, or if the armor's magical defense had been even slightly weaker, he would have been reduced to nothing but ash himself. Even his usually steadfast mind felt a moment of disbelief at their victory. It felt surreal, but in the end, they had won.

With Moriel's death, the church's greatest fear had been vanquished. If Cervantes and the others were successful in their mission, Nigen would be on the verge of collapse, and the kingdoms of Alrasia and the others would no longer have any cause for concern. The dragon's remains—her scales, bones, and hide—would soon be crafted into armor and weapons for the warriors of Celeste, their strength now derived from the corpse of a once-immense god.

The most critical point is that, as a powerful being that has survived since the ancient elven era, and given the legend that dragons are naturally inclined to hoard treasures, there is no reason why this dragon's lair wouldn't contain two extremely precious magical items. From a certain perspective, this is one of the main reasons why the Pope is so interested in slaying the black dragon.

Now, this great victory was right before him, waiting for him to harvest it. However, Lancelote felt that something was wrong. With the arrival of victory, his relaxed focus sharpened, and he suddenly realized what was amiss. He abruptly turned and looked toward the cave entrance.

The other four paladins also turned sharply toward the entrance. After the dragon breath that had swept through the entire cave, there was still the sound of a minotaur's breathing mixed with their own, coming from behind them.

Outside the cave, a minotaur priest was surrounded by two fire elementals. It was these two giant elementals, immune to fire, that had shielded him from the overwhelming dragon breath.

This minotaur priest's robes were slightly different from the others, indicating that he was likely the leader among them. However, he hadn't spoken a word throughout the journey. From the beginning of the battle, he had stood at the back with the other priests, casting magic, appearing no different from the rest. Yet, he had always positioned himself the farthest from Moriel, even stepping outside the cave to stand in the corridor. Otherwise, it would have been impossible for just two fire elementals to block the dragon breath.

A mage who could summon two elemental giants was indeed different from the other priests. But the most unusual thing was that he only revealed his difference at this very moment.

Just as the temple knights and Lancelote were about to react, the unique minotaur priest had already produced a scroll and unfurled it in the cave.

A surge of magic power flashed, and the scroll in the minotaur priest's hands turned to ashes. It seemed as though nothing had come from the scroll, at least it appeared that way. But as soon as the scroll was unrolled, the four temple knights and Lancelote, who had already started leaping or running toward the spot, suddenly paused. Two of the temple knights nearly lost their footing and almost fell.

Moriel, who had still managed to support her massive body, collapsed completely like a pile of mush. Her enormous form caused the rocks beneath her to crack. The entire cave began to tremble slightly.

"Gravity field?" Lancelote stared in disbelief at the minotaur priest, struggling to utter the words. He now felt as if he was breathing not air, but a mass of rocks.

This was an ultimate single-element earth magic. Although not as powerful as the air element's 'Falling Stars,' it was a level above the fire element's 'Blazing Nova.' Within the range of this magic, gravity was ten times that of normal. For a weak person, being in the range of this earth ultimate spell would result in their body being torn apart by the sheer weight of their own mass.

The temple knights were naturally not ordinary people, but even they couldn't easily face this earth-based ultimate spell. And before they could even react to this sudden magic, the minotaur priest pulled out another scroll and unfurled it.

This scroll only released a flash of blue light before dissipating, seemingly without effect. But Lancelote recognized the blue light. It was the unique glow of spatial magic, and his expression turned even more shocked and grim than before when he noticed the gravity field. "Space lock?"