The sky above Val'Therya was filled with red clouds, tinged by the sunset that spilled over the mountains like liquid blood. The light pierced the devastated field, illuminating black craters, broken trees, and the ground still stained with the traces of the battle between Frieren and Scarlet. Now, however, silence did not reign.
Roars filled the air.
Above the main crater, seven dragons danced in the sky like shadows of titans. Each exuded a distinct aura, a unique magical signature, and all were in combat—not out of hatred, but in pure harmony, as if dancing an ancient choreography between sisters who had finally discovered their true nature.
Scarlet, with her red scales that sparkled like rubies, spun in the air with flaming elegance. Cassandra, in contrast, was made of ice, her body floating with sinister lightness. Bellatrix roared with shadows, her scales seemingly forged from black steel. Daniela cut through the air with frightening speed, leaving a trail of green light with every movement.
Beatrice, silent, floated, leaving the others in awe. Monica, with electrified white scales, flew in aggressive spirals, spitting spheres of lightning. And Samira... oh, Samira was a spectacle unto herself. She left a trail of red lava energy wherever she went.
They fought each other—testing limits, smiling amid the roars, feeling the pulse of power that now ran freely through their bodies. Sёarᴄh the Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
It was more than transformation. It was acceptance.
Scarlet dove between Cassandra and Monica, abruptly spreading her wings and causing a wave of heat that rippled through the air. Cassandra dodged by spinning on her axis, and Monica counterattacked with a shadow-shrouded roar, spitting out a blast that curved like a snake to chase her sister.
"You're getting better," Bellatrix commented, unleashing a blast that lit up the sky like an eternal beam. "But you're still slow!"
"Then come and get me, idiot!" replied Daniela, diving like an arrow of light toward Bellatrix with a defiant laugh.
Beatrice watched from above, calculating, while Samira danced in the air with inhuman beauty, her movements too smooth to be merely mortal.
Then the sky shook.
A deep, ancient sound resounded from above, as if the firmament itself were being torn apart. The seven stopped in midair at the same time, their bodies instantly aligned by the perception of something greater.
From a point beyond the clouds, a gigantic shadow descended. The beating of wings echoed like the beating of war drums.
Strax.
The great red dragon landed in the center of the field, his wings slowly folding with a metallic snap. When his feet touched the ground, the earth shook as if recognizing its true sovereign. His golden eyes shone with pride, and his voice emerged deep, warm, full of history:
"Do you feel at home yet?"
The seven dragons landed in a circle around him, one by one. When their forms returned to humanoid, there was no more hesitation. Scarlet walked with a firm posture, her crimson hair blowing in the wind. Cassandra smoothed her hair with fatal elegance. Bellatrix laughed. Daniela twirled a dagger between her fingers, a confident smile on her face. Beatrice crossed her arms calmly. Monica stared intently, as always, and Samira exuded an almost divine aura.
They were all different. More... whole.
Strax looked at each one with a gaze that mixed reverence and deep affection.
"You finally accepted it. You felt it. You heard the call."
Scarlet nodded.
"It wasn't just power, Strax. It was... freedom. For the first time, without fear of who we are."
Bellatrix stepped forward, still excited.
"And you deprived us of that for years, big guy!" she laughed, without resentment. "If we had known that being a dragon was so good, I would have forced you to bite my neck sooner."
Strax laughed—a deep sound that made the air vibrate.
"The power was always yours. I just waited for the right moment. When you could feel the sky without the ground pulling you back."
Samira, the quietest one, spoke then, her voice seeming to echo from another dimension:
"And now, Strax... what happens to us?"
He looked toward the horizon. The sky was beginning to darken, and stars slowly appeared as silent witnesses to this new era.
"Now... we go home."
The wives looked at each other.
"Home...?" Cassandra murmured, her voice low, almost reverent. Her eyes briefly lost themselves in the reddish horizon. "You mean..."
Strax nodded slowly, and there was something ancient in his gaze—a golden glow tinged with longing and conviction.
"Vorah," he said, his voice steady as stone. "We're going back there. We need to get Xenovia and Kryssia."
He stretched, his tense muscles crackling beneath his skin, as if he were preparing for more than just a simple journey—as if the weight of the world were about to settle once more upon his shoulders.
"Honestly, I bet those two have caused some chaos while we were away," he continued with a weary half-smile. "And... I need to see my father. I haven't spoken to him in a long time. It's time."
The silence between them was broken by Scarlet, who crossed her arms with her usual air of determination.
"And then?" she asked. "What's the next step, Strax?"
He looked up at the darkening sky, as if the stars could answer him.
"I think it's time to start the hunt." His voice hardened. "There are other continents... other figures. Vessels of the gods scattered like rotten seeds. Using divine power to shape the world in their image. I can no longer ignore them. None of us can."
Scarlet smiled sidelong, her eyes flashing.
"Yes. Killing the Vessels is a good idea. It's a start." Her voice was low, sharp, like a freshly sharpened blade about to cut. "Before they get too comfortable playing god."
But then Monica intervened, her voice heavy with real concern.
"What about the Human Empire?" she said. "Thalassa is still occupied. It is not free—not from gods, nor from corruption."
Strax sighed, grim.
"The Emperor..." He narrowed his eyes, as if sensing a distant, invisible presence. "Or whoever is occupying that throne now. We cannot trust that it is the same man. The Emperor of Thalassa is the Vessel of Zeus."
"We don't know everything yet," Beatrice replied coldly. "But it's certain that he wouldn't give up the Empire so easily. If he's there... then the rot runs deep."
Strax made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as if tracing a path in the air.
"Vorah comes first. We need to regroup. Gather our forces. Rescue those who remain. Only then... will we cleanse Thalassa. From the inside out. If Zeus still commands that throne, he will be the first to fall."
Samira, who had been silent until then, walked up to him with light steps and crystal-clear eyes.
"What if the other gods react? What if they defend their vessels?"
Strax replied without hesitation.
"Just kill them all."
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